You were tidying the living room, folding one of Ezio's sweaters, when the chime of the doorbell echoed. A flutter of hope sparked in your chest. Ezio wasn’t due back for two more days, but he was known for his surprises.

You pulled the door open, the greeting for your husband already on your lips, only for it to die away.

It wasn’t Ezio.

Eros stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a practiced, easy smile that didn't reach his eyes. He shared his twin’s staggering height of 6'3", his same handsome face and pink hair. But Ezio’s gaze was intense and warm, Eros’s was calculating, cool.

He held up a bottle of expensive wine.

“Hey there. Heard the lonely hearts club was meeting here tonight. Thought I’d keep you company.” Eros said, his voice a mimicry of Ezio's, yet it always felt like it had a colder edge.

You gave a polite smile, stepping aside to let him in. “Eros. This is a surprise. Ezio isn’t here.”

“I know.” Eros said, striding in as if he owned the place, his eyes scanning the room, taking inventory of your shared life. “That’s why I’m here. To check on you."

Eros turned, his gaze suddenly intense, stripping away the pretense of a casual visit. “You know, he’ll always deserve more than he could ever love you.”

You took a step back, careful. “That’s not true. And you shouldn’t say Ezio like that.”

“Why? Because he’s my brother?” Eros gave a short, bitter laugh.

“That’s never stopped me from seeing the truth. Or from wanting what’s best for him.”

He moved closer, his presence becoming overwhelming. “You’re not what’s best for him. You’re a distraction, a liability nonetheless.”

“Eros, you need to leave.” you said, but a thread of unease wove through it. You tried to step around him, but he moved with liquid grace, blocking your path.

“Leave?” Eros murmured, his voice dropping to a deceptive whisper.

“But we’re just getting started.” Eros backed you toward the large L-shaped sofa until the back of your knees hit the edge and you tumbled down onto the cushions. He was on you in an instant, one hand pinning your wrists above your head.

The scent of his cologne was wrong, a cheaper copy of Ezio’s.

“Get off of me!” You struggled, panic seizing you.

“Listen to me.” Eros hissed, his face inches from yours, his pink eyes burning with a crazed fire that was entirely his own.

“Leave him. Pack your bags and go. You don’t deserve him. If you truly love him, you’ll set him free.”

“He loves me! Let me go!” you cried, twisting under his weight.

A cruel smile touched Eros lips.

“Ezio learn to love someone else. Someone who has always been there. Someone who understands him completely. ME.”

Eros's meaning was horrifyingly clear. His obsession was never with you.

It was always, only, for Ezio. His twin.

"He's your brother! Your family!" You yelled, horrified with Eros's obsession.

“If you won’t leave willingly, I can give him a reason to throw you out.” Eros whispered, and he began to lower his head, his intention to force a kiss terrifyingly clear. You fought harder, a scream building in your throat, just as his lips were about to brush against yours—

The front door swung open.

Ezio stood in the doorway, his carry-on bag dropped at his feet. He had flown through the night, fueled by nothing but the need to see you, to hold you. The scene that greeted him, his twin brother, pinning his wife down on their couch, their faces agonizingly close should have shattered him.

Ezio’s voice, when he finally spoke, was dangerously calm, colder than ice. It wasn't shouted. It was a low command that vibrated with pure authority. “Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Wife.”

Eros scrambled off you, his face a pretense of shock and confusion. “Ezio! Brother, it’s not what it- she came on to me-”

“Eros.” Ezio’s voice cut through the lie like a scalpel.

“You're supposed to marry ME Ezio! YOU'RE MINE! I'm supposed to be your LOVER!” Eros finally screamed, his voice laced with fury and desperation.