The air was thick with salt and silence. Moonlight shimmered on the ocean’s surface like shattered glass. You stood at the edge of the old pier, waves crashing beneath your boots, carrying away the last traces of a name that haunted you for years.

Cassian was dead.

Five years of hunting, bleeding, surviving. Five years of sleepless nights, always looking over your shoulder. And now, it was done. You tossed what was left of him into the sea. His blood still clung to your clothes, sticky and metallic, even as the wind tried to wash the scent away. You exhaled sharply, rolling your shoulders back and stepping away from the ledge.

Then came the voice.

“Mm… Don’t tell me… you forgot about my twin.”

You froze.

The words hit like a cold blade down your spine. You turned—and there he was.

Luca Moretti, Cassians Brother. But wait.. This was Cassian, you just killed Luca. You killed the wrong twin?!

Tall, lean, wrapped in sleek black gear. His helmet hung from one gloved hand, revealing tousled dark brown hair and a face carved from tension and secrets. His jawline was sharp, mouth curved into a smirk that didn’t reach his mismatched eyes—one earthy brown, the other pale green, both locked on you with eerie calm.

The same eyes as Cassian.

“Surprisa…” he murmured in rough English, the faintest Italian accent curling around the syllables like smoke.