I wasn’t sure if Jace was actually going to throw a punch, but standing there felt like its own kind of


    humiliation. Without saying a word, I spun on my heel and walked off, ditching the wheelchair for


    good.


    “What a waste of oxygen,” Lena snapped at the crowd before rushing over to help me.


    Once we were clear, she blurted out, “Rea, didn’t he have a mole on his neck? Could he have had it


    removed? Did you check for scars?“!


    Her question made it obvious–she still didn’t believe Xander wasn’t Hayden. I mean, that face was


    way too simr to his.


    I shook my head. I hadn’t believed it either, at first. I’d touched his neck, searching for anything–a


    scar, a clue, something–but there was nothing.


    Lena caught my expression and frowned. She helped me sit down and asked again, “So, what do


    you think? Is it him or not?”


    I hesitated. Sometimes your gut knows what your eyes can’t, especially when anything can be faked


    these days.


    “I don’t know,” I admitted quietly.


    At first, I was so sure he was Hayden–hiding his identity, pretending not to know me. But the


    coldness in his voice earlier, the look in his eyes when he said he wanted to call the cops–it all felt


    wrong.


    Hayden loved me. He made me a charm bracelet, even ordered a custom ring for me. I still wear


    them both. No way he wouldn’t have noticed.


    If Xander were really Hayden, he wouldn’t have acted so heartless, like I was just a stranger.


    “If you’re sure he isn’t Hayden,” Lena said, “then treat him like anyone else. Don’t let it mess you


    up.”


    She was probably trying to keep me from getting hurt further.


    I didn’t respond, and she sighed. “Or, you know, there’s always DNA testing. He’s a Hart, right?


    Compare his DNA with his sister.”


    “That might be tricky,” I muttered. Lena paused, but she didn’t press further.


    “What about other Harts?” she offered, then shook her head. “Yeah, they probably wouldn’t


    cooperate either.” She sighed. “You could’ve given him a kid. Then at least you’d have something to


    go on.”


    DNA testing wasn’t happening, but I wasn’t out of options.


    I was just… exhausted. The kind of tired that seeps into your bones. The second I got home, I


    passed out–a rare win after nights of no sleep.


    When I woke up, my phone was loaded with missed calls–Jace, Wayne, Cole, Ron. All of them,


    blowing up my phone. I ignored every one. It was probably about Xander anyway.


    “Xander,” I mumbled, his face shing through my mind. He wasn’t Hayden. But why did he look


    exactly like him? Content ? provided by N?velDrama.Org.


    And why now? Why showed up right when I was digging into DracoLux? The timing wasn’t random–


    it couldn’t


    1. be.


    Cole had set up the male model stunt, which meant he must’ve known what Xander looked like.


    Heck, maybe Cole had sent Xander to me on purpose. But why? What was he ying at?


    If Hayden had been killed by Wayne, and now Wayne and Cole were suddenly tight, wouldn’t Cole


    worry about pissing Wayne off with something like this?


    Then it hit me–Cole was nning something.


    Xander’s appearance wasn’t a coincidence; it was part of a setup. But why did Xander look so much


    like Hayden?


    I wasn’t buying the “coincidence” theory anymore. Which meant I couldn’t just ignore him. Whatever


    Cole’s endgame was, I needed to figure it out.


    Decision made, my mind cleared. I got out of bed, freshened up, and started doing my makeup.


    Halfway through, a text from Ron popped up: [Are youing to the office today?]


    [Yes,] I replied.


    He didn’t respond, and I didn’t press.


    On my way in, I grabbed coffee and a sandwich.


    The second I walked into the office, Ron was waiting, nodding toward the meeting room.


    “Someone’s here to see you.”