She takes a seat in the vacant chair opposite my desk and crosses her legs, cocking her head to the side as she studies me. Mercedes has always had the ability to stare at you like she can see into your very soul. It's an unnerving quality, and she has used it to bring many men to heel and plead for her attention. But hell hath no fury when it doesn't work.

"I hate to break it to you, Santi." Her lips curve into a wicked grin as she leans forward and lowers her voice to a whisper. "But you and I are exactly the same."

Had it been any other day, I would have agreed with her. We are the same. Or at least we were. But somewhere between the events of the last few days, it feels as though my thirst for revenge has taken a short leave of absence, leaving only confusion behind in its place. That's the only logical explanation that makes sense, given that I've been sitting here all day considering my wife's feelings. Trying to understand human emotion on a level I never have before. Feeling so off I can hardly sit still for more than a moment.

I want to destroy something, but for once, it isn’t her. I want to force her to be sweet to me again. What a grand delusion that is.

I must be going insane.

"She's getting to you." Mercedes mirrors my thoughts.

"No." My response is lifeless, and even I can't pretend the conviction in my voice doesn't sound contrived.

My sister narrows her eyes at me, a fire-breathing serpent from the depths of hell. If jealousy had a face, it would be hers right now. I know that's what makes her question my resolve. She has always been the baby in the family. The cherished princess who was adored by our mother and protected by her brothers at all costs. But things have been so different since the explosion. She lost half her family in one instant, and then her mother in the aftermath. We are both just ghosts, living in this house, haunted by the memories. She has been watching me slowly slip away ever since, trying with all her might to pull me back. That's what it boils down to. She fears she will lose me to Ivy like she has lost everyone else.

"I have seen it with my own eyes," she hisses. "You carrying her around the halls of the manor like a broken little doll in your arms. It's pathetic, Santiago. If you don't have the guts to go through with this, then tell me now. I will do what is necessary."

My chair crashes into the wall behind me as I rise up and lean over the desk, breathing my own fire into Mercedes's face so there can be no doubt to my authority.