Page 170 of The Company

Chapter Sixty-Eight - Harper

“I don’t understand.” I’m breathing all heavy and wrong and he’s still touching my arm. I shake off his hand and pull away. “I don’t understand.”

The man who looks like James sighs. “OK. Let me start from the beginning. In a science experiment you have three variables. You have the product, the reactant, and the control.”

“What?”

“I was told you were quick.”

I squint at him. What the fuck is he talking about?

“OK, a product is—”

“I know what a fucking control is. What I don’t know,” I seethe, “is why the fuck you look like James.”

He reaches over and I recoil and scoot back until I’m pressed up against the couch cushions. His fingertips touch my cheek and then drag down until his hand flips over and his knuckles slide under my chin. He gently tips it upward. “Calm down for me, please. And I’ll explain.”

“This is me being calm,” I say back, still angry.

He smiles and drops his hand. “James is my brother.”

“He never said he had a twin.”

“He doesn’t know he has a twin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Harper, work with me here, darling. OK?” He pauses like I’m supposed to take that opportunity to agree with him. “I didn’t expect to see you tonight. Your father said—”

My father knew about this.

“—you’d go to your room after dinner. So I took this opportunity to relax. I live in a stressful world, as you do, I’m sure. And I wasn’t thrilled that I had to be the one to have this conversation with you. I didn’t feel it was my place. Your father should’ve cleared all this up last year—”

Oh my God. What is he saying?

“—but since you’ve seen me now, I guess I’ll just have to do my best.”

I stand up, shaking my head. “No.”

“Sit down, Harper.”

“No,” I say again, stepping away from the couch. He stays where he is so I walk all the way to the edge of the living room. “I know what you’re going to say and I don’t believe you.”

“It’s true, Harper. I’m your promise, not James.”

“No. I belong to him. He said so.”

“James is delusional. Besides, I don’t see you as property, so I’m very unhappy that he made you believe you were one of his belongings.”

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Vincent. Fenici.” He says it very slowly, like I’m incapable of understanding what’s going on.

I do understand. I just don’t want to believe it.

“James and I are twins. When we turned sixteen, we were brought to an island to meet you. Not together, of course. We lived separate lives since shortly after our second birthday.”

“I didn’t see you there.”