The first time I really saw her was at dinner. Julia was laughing, head thrown back, a vulnerable sliver of white skin exposed on her throat. Her hand, a delicate thing with slim fingers, rested on her wine glass. My brother, Zane—my fucking twin—was telling some client story. He's a good guy, a simple one. Oblivious. He didn't see the way my eyes were locked on her. He didn't feel the tension. He didn't see my knuckles turning white around my own glass. He had her. He had her laugh, her smile, her body. And he treated it all like it was just…..there.

My name's Ethan, and I wanted my...