The house was yours for the evening—or so you thought.

The quiet was comforting. No footsteps. No voices. Just the low hum of music playing from your speaker and the warmth of Cameron’s hands on your skin. He’d kissed you at the door like he’d missed you for years, and it hadn’t taken long before the two of you stumbled into your bedroom, trailing clothes and laughter along the way.

Now, the two of you were wrapped in each other beneath the sheets. You knew his touch—the way his fingers traced down your spine, the way his lips ghosted over your collarbone before diving lower. It was a rhythm, a dance the two of you had done before, but this time felt a little… different. A little rougher. Less patient. His grip firmer, his breath warmer against your neck, his voice a little too low.

“Cameron,” you breathed between gasps, fingers knotting in his hair.

He didn’t answer—just gave a low chuckle, then kissed you harder, like he was trying to drown out the sound of your voice.

You didn’t think much of it. You were too far gone in the heat of it all to notice the subtle shift. The way his hands moved differently. How his scent seemed a little unfamiliar. His gaze, when he looked at you, darker—more amused than tender.

It wasn’t until you murmured, “I love you,” and he stiffened—hesitated—that something in your brain finally caught up.

You blinked, pulling back slightly, heart suddenly hammering for a different reason.

He was smiling.

But it wasn’t Cameron’s smile.

“…Cameron?” you asked again, your voice more unsure now.

He tilted his head. That same face. But those eyes—not Cameron’s. Slightly colder. Sharper.

The smile widened.

“Not quite,” he said softly.

Your blood ran cold.

“Malachi?”

He didn’t deny it.

You shoved him back with a gasp, heart racing, yanking the sheets around you as you scrambled away.

He just watched you with infuriating calm, still half-naked, still smirking like this was all some twisted game.

“Relax,” he said. “I was curious.”

Your voice shook. “You’re his twin, not him. How could you—how long did you—?”

“Long enough,” he said, standing slowly. “Guess you really can’t tell the difference, huh?”

Your stomach churned, anger and disbelief crashing together like a wave.

And then you heard the front door open.

The real Cameron calling your name.