"Jonathan Hargrove, you know why we're here, don't you?" Detective Mark stood above the older man's hospital bed. His partner, Bree, kept her eyes on the patient who was quietly sobbing.

She nudged the bed with her thigh. "Mr. Hargrove, now isn't the time to be emotional. Serious accusations have been made against you."

"By your son, no less," Mark muttered.

"I told you the patient couldn't deal with any stress," the nurse in the room said. She was a petite blonde that normally Mark would've flirted with. Her cold brown eyes and stern mouth told him to stay away. She continued, "You promised you wouldn't worry him."

"I didn't even tell him that his wife was murdered," Mark said, lifting his hands in front of him in an innocent gesture.

"R-Rebecca's dead?" Jonathan whispered. He gasped and groaned as though someone had maimed him. "She's dead? Someone murdered her? You're lying! This is some kind of trick!"

"Mr. Hargrove, please stay calm," the nurse warned him.

"How? How did it happen?" he demanded to know. "When did it happen?"

"We're sorry for your loss, Mr. Hargrove. Unfortunately, it happened here at the hospital. It was a couple of days ago. The doctor's didn't want you to know because of your health but it's important that you know," Bree answered.

"Did you catch whoever did it?"

"We're still trying to find the person responsible for your wife's death. In the meantime, your name came up in another investigation."

"So you don't even know who killed my wife and you aren't working on her case?" The beeping of the heart monitor attached to Mr. Hargrove quickened.

The nurse scowled at both detectives, shaking her head in anger. "That's it. I'm going to get the doctor. You two are going to cause him to lose his life."

"Shall I escort you to see him?" Bree asked, her expression unfazed by the nurse's threat.

"It's a she not a him," the nurse said, straightening her back. "And I don't need an escort, thank you very much."

Bree smiled. "I stand corrected. Still, let me escort you."

The nurse rolled her eyes and stormed from the room while Bree and Mark exchanged a look and nodded. Once they were gone, Mark turned back to Jonathan Hargrove.

"I'll get straight to it. Someone hired Trey Dawson to murder your daughter-in-law, Calista Hargrove. Your son Adam pointed the finger at you. You got anything to say about that?"

"Adam accused me? You're lying! He's my son. Why would I want Calista dead?"

"That's what I want to know."

"I didn't. I would never-"

"We have it recorded- your son naming you. We think it may also have something to do with why your wife was killed, Mr. Hargrove. Are you sure you don't want to tell us what you know?"

The old man took a slow deep breath before closing his eyes and sniffling. "I don't understand what you're trying to tell me."

"Fine. I'll play along. I think you know exactly who hired Trey Dawson. Hell, it might've been you for all I know. Your son said you were guilty. I also think your wife was involved. So, what happened? Was it you? Or did someone hire you? Did someone ask you to hire Trey Dawson? If someone did ask you to hire him, you need to let us know. We think that person may be behind your wife's murder."

"Behind my wife's murder?"

"You could help us. All you have to do is tell us what's going on and we'll have a lead on your wife's killer. Whoever did it, was pretty vicious. She'd want that person caught."

Jonathan waited a few moments before answering, "It all started with Adam. We told him not to marry her. That she wasn't good enough for him but he didn't listen to us. He said he was in love."

"So you wanted to get rid of her?" Mark asked, disgust in his voice. "That wasn't your choice to make."

"I didn't hire Trey Dawson. I didn't want to but my wife insisted. She said we had to do it for Adam. Once Calista was gone, he'd get to remarry someone better. Someone richer."

"Someone richer. Would that someone happen to be his good friend, Yvonne Barrette?"

Jonathan Hargrove gave a bitter laugh. "Good friend? Is that what you call her? She was after Adam since day one. They say marriage is a union of love but I think it's an act of endurance. Affection fades quickly and the things you once thought were cute become irritating. People change at different paces and it's hard to keep up sometimes. Rebecca was like that. Always living in the past with her rich family. Always wanting something better. She saw Yvonne as an answer to her prayers."

"Is she the one that asked you to hire Trey Dawson?"

"I told you, we didn't hire Trey Dawson. All we did was give his name. We were asked to take care of Calista and we refused. After that, we started getting threatened so instead of doing what they wanted, we gave Dawson's name. It was our out. On top of that, we were paid to keep quiet. His father used to do our pool. Hell, he cleaned everyone's pool. I think he even did the Dover's pool. His son got into a lot of trouble with the law. It was known that he'd do anything for a price."

"Who did you give Trey's name to?" Mark asked, the thumping of his heart echoed in his ears.

"What did you say your last name was? Jessup?"

Mark nodded. "Detective Mark Jessup."

The corner of his mouth twisted upward. "They say curiosity is a dangerous thing, Detective Jessup. Are you sure you want to know?"

"Tell me."

"He said his enemy slept with his daughter-in-law and he wasn't about to let him get away with it. He wanted every trace of their union destroyed. Every trace...including their children."

Mark felt his mouth go suddenly dry. "Their children?

"Yes. He went on about this enemy. Saying he slept with his wife and his daughter-in-law. He said that his son was killed because of him. That his son found out about the affair and crashed their car. Can you believe it?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that this all started because of two old men. Older than me. I guess it's true that the son pays for the sins of the father."

"Give me a name," Mark said, his voice as hard as steel.

"His name was Jessup. Mitchell Jessup."

The moment his grandson entered his room, Mitchell Jessup knew the jig was up. Mark's face looked raw and angry as though he had found out that the man that raised him was a liar. A murderer.

"Grandpa," Mark's voice was rough like sandpaper.

"There's a reason for this, Mark. If you just hear me out-"

"Grandpa, how could you? Is this because of Anthony Dover?"

"He killed my son and I did what I had to do. Does that make me a murderer...or a good father?"

"What you had to do? What the hell are you talking about, Grandpa? Dad was driving the car the day they had that accident."

"Your father knew about the affair. He knew Grandma Rita cheated on me with him. To know that his mother and his wife both slept with the same man...wouldn't you be disgusted too?"

"What are you saying?"

"Your father purposely crashed that car. His anger was too strong for him to see anything else. He may have been driving, but Anthony Dover was the cause of his murder. Arranging for his daughter-in-law and son to crash in an accident was justice. An eye for an eye. A son for a son. It's fitting, don't you think?"

"Don't you know what you're saying right now?" Mark felt tears threatening to fall.

Detective Bree Wade slowly made her way into the room, tapping on the door. "Mark, Adam Hargrove was just released on bail."

A wave of nausea steamrolled itself through Mark. He ignored Bree and continued, "Grandpa, are you saying you killed Anthony Dover's son?"

"You don't understand, Mark. You were still young. Knowing Anthony Dover was living it in that giant mansion of his with his son and daughter-in-law just burned me up. I won't admit to anything."

"You just did!" Mark coughed and turned his back to his grandfather, not quite meeting Bree's eyes.

She stepped forward. "Mr. Jessup, I'm Detective Bree Wade. I work with your grandson. I'm here to ask you a few questions."

"I told you I'm not saying anything! You can't prove anything, either."

"This isn't about whatever happened between you and Mr. Dover. This is about Calista Hargrove."

His eyes narrowed.

"Did you hire Trey Dawson to murder Calista Hargrove?"

"D-did I what? That's preposterous! Why would I do such a thing?"

"I don't know. You tell me. Did Jonathan and Rebecca Hargrove give you Trey Dawson's name in exchange for some hush money?"

"Stop it, Bree. My grandfather's on a fixed income. Even if he did arrange some sort of deal, there's no way he would be able to pay them off. Ask him who he's working with."

Mitchell Jessup's eyes widened. "What exactly are you accusing me of? Why would I do anything to this Calista woman?"

"Because she wasn't your biological grandchild. She was blood-related to the man you consider your worst enemy," Bree answered. "And you just couldn't let it go, could you?"

"Enough!" Mark spun on his heels and pointed to his grandfather. "Calista Hargrove and Calista Dover are not related to Anthony Dover. It's impossible! They both have Grandma Rita's eyes. That would've been passed down from Dad not Mom. Calita Hargrove looks exactly like Grandma Rita. Besides we took a blood test. We're related with the same mother and the same father."

"W-what? What are you saying? That I was wrong?" Mitchell whispered. "But I was told-"

"Among men, being wrong happens," Bree interrupted. "Listen, I may be Mark's partner, but you being his grandfather doesn't bother me. Young or old, I have no trouble putting cuffs on a person," Bree informed him while jingling her handcuffs in front of her.

"I'm telling you the truth. I had nothing to do with this Calista Hargrove."

Mark nodded, before leaving Bree to deal with his grandfather's confession. He couldn't deal with what had just happened and he still needed answers.

"I'm here," Sebastian said into his phone, peering out the window of his convertible. "Where are you?"

A knock on the window told him she was in touching distance. She was wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses. He quickly unlocked all of the doors. "Get in."

Calista Hargrove sat in the passenger seat, removing her sunglasses. "What did you want to meet about?"

Sebastian cleared his throat. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay. That's all."

"You could've done that over the phone."

"I'd rather see it for myself than hear it," he answered. "Calista, I'm sorry about this. About everything."

"It's not your fault."

"Yes, it is. If I hadn't mistaken you for my sister in the first place, this never would have happened. You look exactly like my sister now. Don't worry, I've talked to the surgeons. We can have everything fixed. You'll be looking like yourself in no time."

"I'd appreciate that."

Sebastian noticed that she was avoiding eye contact. He gripped the steering wheel and asked, "Are you angry with me? Or disgusted?"

She turned to him. "What? Why would I be disgusted?"

He noticed the whites of her eyes were tinged pink. "You've been crying. Did something happen?"

"I asked Adam for a divorce. He slept with Calista," her voice cracked as she answered. "And who knows who else?"

Sebastian began driving while Calista tried to stop herself from crying. Once they were in front of a fancy hotel, he pulled over and came around the car to help her out.

"Why are we here?" she asked.

"To give you a proper place to cry," he answered before reminding her to put her sunglasses back on.

Sebastian quickly secured a room and escorted her towards the elevator. Once they were in a suite, he went to the mini-fridge and poured her a drink. Calista drank it greedily, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand afterward.

"Feel better?" he asked.

She nodded. "Are you being nice to me because I remind you of your sister?"

"You're not my sister!"

Calista looked slightly taken aback. "I know that. I just didn't want you to feel obligated to help me because we look the same and she is my sister. My biological sister, anyway." She began toying with the necklace that spelled her name. Sebastian had given it to her and now she felt like it was wrong to keep it. She unclasped the chain and removed the dainty piece of jewelry.

"To be honest, I'm trying not to be so nice because you look like my sister," Sebastian admitted.

"Do all men cheat?" Calista asked, ignoring his admission.

"I wouldn't know. I don't know every man in the world."

"I'm being serious." Calista frowned. "Is it in your DNA to have some kind of assholery gene that makes you cheat?"

"I've never cheated," Sebastian said softly.

"Liar. A rich playboy like you?" Calista scoffed.

"I'm serious. I've never cheated. Not once. I've never been in a serious relationship so I've never cheated."

Calista sneered. "Then you're only innocent because of lack of opportunity."

"I know you're angry at your husband and I'm glad you want to divorce him, but if you're doing it because of him sleeping with my sister...you might want to rethink it. She can be very manipulative. Don't get me wrong. I love her...she's my sister. But men tend to fall easily when it comes to her."

"Even you?"

Sebastian frowned. "I'm her brother. I've never thought of her as anything else but my sister. Totally platonic."

"I don't think she thinks the same."

He squared his shoulders and looked away. "Calista has always looked up to me. I knew that but I didn't realize how far her infatuation went. I actually ignored her most of the time. I was so busy with school and then work that I didn't realize her sisterly affection went beyond that of a sister. It's why I'm having such a hard time now."

"What do you mean?"

"You look just like my sister."

"So?"

"But I'm attracted to you," Sebastian admitted.

Calista took a moment to take that in. "I'm a married woman."

"Not for long." He stepped closer to her and sat beside her on the bed. "Are you sure you want to divorce your husband?"

"He cheated on me. He lied to me. How could I ever trust him?"

Sebastian poured himself a drink. Calista eyed him, forgetting about the necklace in her hands and placing it on the bed. She placed both of her hands on his chest and turned towards him. His eyes widened as she pressed her lips against his. He didn't hesitate for long before returning her kiss.

After a few moments, she pushed herself back, panting, "Is this weird?"

"Not for me," Sebastian said, pulling her back into his arms.

She pulled off her top as he unbuttoned his dress shirt, wildly kissing one another at the same time. She was on top of him when she asked, "Who am I?"

He was unclasping her bra when he answered, "You're Calista."

"No, I mean who do you see right now?"

Sebastian felt his heart beating in his chest but he stopped and placed a hand on her cheek. "I see the woman that I mistook as my sister. At first I felt guilty about what had happened to her. I see the woman I thought was trying to trick me. The woman that I was determined to pay back for lying to me."

Calista gasped.

"I also see the woman that despite knowing I wasn't her brother, stood up for me to the media."

"Sebastian."

"A woman who is not above being petty enough to fight with a snob at a party. A woman that helped Pop Pop and treated him like a real granddaughter. I see a woman that is naïve but kind. A woman I started to grow curious about to the point that I can't stop thinking about her. It's not your face that attracted me." He placed his hand over her heart. "It's this that's got me all hot and bothered."

A tear slid down Calista's cheek. "But who do you see?"

He pulled her into another kiss before answering, "I see you."

Sebastian was still sleeping when Calista stepped out of the hotel room. She adjusted her sunglasses and looked down the empty corridor before walking towards the elevator. She could hear a door opening from behind her but she kept walking. She pressed the button for the lobby when she suddenly felt something prick her neck.

She turned to see who was behind her when something hard hit her from behind and everything went dark.