Four Of A Kind

Chapter 111: [3.13] Case File: The Phantom Kisser

Iris Angelo stared at the clock for the fifth time in seven minutes. 9:37 PM. Her brother should have been home by now. Normally, she wouldn’t worry—Isaiah was more responsible at eighteen than most adults would be in their forties—but something was off.

Ever since he’d come home Sunday night with that weird look on his face, everything had changed. The way he moved around the apartment, checking his phone constantly, zoning out mid-conversation. The distracted half-smiles when he thought she wasn’t looking.

Iris knew that look. She’d seen it in enough manhwa to recognize it instantly.

Her brother had been kissed.

Not just kissed—the kind of kiss that rewired your brain. The kind that made smart people stupid and careful people reckless. The kind that spelled absolute disaster for someone like Isaiah, who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and refused to put it down for even a second.

Worse, he wouldn’t tell her who did it. Just that it was one of the Valentine sisters, and he didn’t know which one.

Iris flopped backwards onto the couch with a dramatic groan. “Four identical billionaire girls and he can’t even figure out which one kissed him? What is this, some kind of twisted reverse harem anime?”

She picked up her phone and opened their text thread again.

IRIS: When will u be home???

IRIS: It’s been 84 years

IRIS: I made dinner but I ate your portion too

IRIS: not really but I might if u don’t hurry up

Isaiah hadn’t responded in over an hour. Probably caught up in whatever ridiculous rich-people drama was happening at the Valentine mansion. Maybe being seduced by another mysterious sister. Or all four of them. Simultaneously.

Iris shuddered at the thought. She loved romance as much as the next fourteen-year-old girl, but the idea of her brother being romantically entangled with one Valentine was alarming enough. Four was apocalyptic.

The lock clicked, and Iris shot upright. Finally.

Isaiah trudged through the door looking like he’d been hit by a truck, dragging himself across the threshold like each step required mathematical calculation. His hair stuck up in the back, and dark circles hung under his eyes.

“You look terrible,” Iris announced.

“Thanks. Kick a man while he’s down.”

“Did you get kissed again?” Iris peered at him suspiciously. “Your mouth looks different.”

“My mouth looks exactly the same as it always has.” Isaiah dropped his bag by the door. “And no, I did not get kissed again. I was working. That’s my job, remember? The thing that pays for this apartment and your endless manga collection?”

“So touchy.” Iris crossed her arms. “Definitely kissed.”

Isaiah ignored her, heading to the kitchen and opening the refrigerator. He stared inside for a long moment without moving or blinking.

“The refrigerator won’t tell you which sister kissed you,” Iris called. “Trust me, I already asked it while you were gone.”

“Can we not do this tonight?” Isaiah closed the fridge without taking anything. “I’m tired.”

“Nope. We’re absolutely doing this tonight.” Iris bounced up from the couch and followed him into their tiny kitchen. “Because tomorrow you’ll go back to that mansion, and one of those pretty rich girls will kiss you again, and then you’ll be completely lost to me forever.”

“Nobody is kissing anybody,” Isaiah said, but his ears turned red.

“Liar.” She poked him in the ribs. “Your ears are doing the thing.”

“My ears aren’t doing any thing.” He swatted her hand away. “And even if someone did kiss me—which I’m not saying happened—it’s not relevant to anything.”

“Not relevant?” Iris’s voice went up an octave. “You’re being seduced by billionaires and it’s not relevant?”

“I’m not—” Isaiah pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was hired to tutor Cassidy Valentine and assist the family. That’s it. Professional. End of story.”

“Except for the kissing.”

“Except for—” He stopped himself. “I’m not having this conversation.”

“Too late. We’re having it.” Iris planted herself in front of him, blocking his escape route. “Which one was it? I need to know who I’m up against.”

“Up against?” Isaiah looked genuinely confused. “What are you talking about?”

“My future sister-in-law, obviously.” Iris rolled her eyes. “I need to vet her. Make sure she’s worthy.”

Isaiah’s face cycled through at least three expressions before settling on something between exhaustion and amusement. “First of all, nobody’s marrying anybody. Second, I told you I don’t know which sister it was.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” Iris declared. “How do you not know?”

“They’re identical quadruplets who were all wearing the same outfit at the time.” Isaiah pushed past her. “And it was dark.”

“So what you’re saying is”—Iris trailed him to the couch—”the girl you’ve been thinking about nonstop for days, whose kiss has turned you into this distracted zombie version of my brother, could be any one of four people?”

Isaiah sank onto the couch. “Yes.”

“That’s messed up.”

“Tell me about it.”

Iris plopped down next to him. “So what are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” Iris stared at him. “Are you serious right now?”

“What am I supposed to do?” Isaiah leaned his head back against the couch. “Walk up to each of them and say, ’Hey, did you kiss me on your mansion steps Sunday night? No hard feelings if you did, just wondering which sister I should be having inappropriate thoughts about’?”

“Yes!” Iris threw her hands up. “That’s exactly what you should do!”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Only because you’re making it complicated.” Iris tucked her feet under her. “Just pick the one you like best and kiss her back. Process of elimination.”

Isaiah looked at her like she’d suggested he rob a bank. “I can’t just go around kissing my employers.”

“Why not? They started it.”

“One of them started it,” he corrected. “And because I’d get fired.”

Iris considered this. “Would getting fired be the worst thing in the world?”

“Yes,” Isaiah said firmly. “It would. That job pays ten thousand dollars a month, Iris. Do you understand what that means for us? For your future?”

“I get it, money matters,” Iris said. “But so does this.” She gestured at his face. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“Like what?”

“All…glowy. And confused. And human.”

Isaiah frowned. “I’m always human.”

“No, you’re always responsible.” Iris scooted closer. “You’re always the one making sure I eat my vegetables and do my homework and have clean clothes. You never let yourself want things just because they’d make you happy.”