The day I buried my parents… Marshall, my husband and fraternal twin sister Daphne, did not show up.

My parents died together on the open sea. My father had surprised my mother with a weekend island tour, a rare trip away from the vineyard but the weather turned on them. The storm was merciless. The boat capsized and never made it back to shore. When the Coast Guard found them, they were still holding hands.

I was still at the cemetery when my phone buzzed. A message from Daphne.

I opened it. The photo hit me like a punch. Marshall was kneeling in front of her, kissing her stomach like it was the most precious thing in the world. The caption read, “Guess who’s finally going to be a father?”

My hands shook. No. This had to be fake.

But then another picture came. This one ended any hope I had left.

Daphne stood in front of my bedroom mirror, wearing my silk robe, taking a selfie. Behind her, in the bed I shared with Marshall, he was fast asleep.

I could not breathe. My own husband had gotten my twin sister pregnant.

Daphne had always been the family’s black sheep; reckless, selfish, the kind of girl who wore trouble like perfume. My parents spent years cleaning up her messes while I stayed behind to help run the vineyard. But the moment I married Marshall, she changed. Or pretended to. She started imitating me. My dresses. My perfume. Even the way I curled my hair and held a wine glass. At first, I told myself it was harmless. Now I saw it for what it was.

The tears came so hard I could barely see. I dropped to my knees in front of my parents’ grave. The dirt was still fresh. My tears soaked into it as I broke apart.

I had noticed the glances between them before. The secret smiles. The way conversations would stop when I walked in. But I refused to believe the two people I trusted most could destroy me like this.

My phone buzzed again. Marshall this time.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to the funeral. Something important came up. We need to talk when I get home.”

I knew exactly what he wanted to talk about.

That night, he came home with Daphne by his side, carrying her bags.

“Daphne needs a place to stay. She’s scared to stay at your parents’ house,” he said in a soft tone, as though gentleness could erase the filth of what he had done. “She’s pregnant. It’s not safe for her to be alone.”

Daphne gave me a sweet, fake smile. “I am sorry, sis. I begged Marshall to wait, but the baby’s health comes first. I hope you understand… We’re twins, right? You’ll understand. I know it’s not the best day to show up… with it being our parents’ funeral.”

I stared at the floor. My chest was so tight it hurt to breathe.

Marshall continued, “She is your sister, your own flesh and blood. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”

I wanted to scream. Throw something. Smash his face in. But I just sat there like a ghost.

He tried again. “I’m sorry for what happened between us. I love you. Only you. What happened with Daphne was a mistake but it won’t happen again.”

I looked up at him, my voice shaking. “She is pregnant. And you? You call that a mistake?”

“Yes. But we made an agreement. When she gives birth, the baby will be yours. You’ve always wanted a child, Liora. Since you can’t have one, this is the universe helping us.”

Those words… You can’t have one.

“I can’t believe you,” I whispered. “You slept with my sister, got her pregnant, and now you expect me to thank you?!”

He ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. “Don’t be dramatic, okay? Now we can finally have a child. I can be a father.”

Daphne started fake crying. “Oh, Marshall. Look at what I’ve done. I’m ruining everything… my twin hates me.”

I snapped, “Cut the fucking act, Daphne!”

She gasped and cried harder. “I… I should go.”

Marshall’s voice turned sharp. “Stop. You’re stressing her. No wonder you can’t give me a child.”

That one sentence broke me all over again.

He softened his tone like it could undo the wound. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want the baby harmed.”

“Okay, then I want a divorce.”

His face went pale. “What?”

Daphne smirked like she had already won.

“I said I want a divorce.”

“Liora, no. We are family,” Daphne said, dripping with fake pity.

Marshall shook his head. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

“Because of this? Because I made a mistake?” He stepped closer, his voice low and dangerous. “I am Marshall Celestino. If you walk out, I will find you. I will drag you back. And I will burn your precious vineyard to the ground.”

My heart froze. The vineyard, forty hectares of vines, barrels, and history was my parents’ life’s work. It was the only piece of them I had left.

“Why are you doing this?” I asked, my voice breaking.

“You brought this on yourself.”

I shook my head, tears streaming. “You humiliate me, you move her in, you threaten me… What more do you want?!”

“Daphne’s baby will be ours. Why can’t you be happy?”

Happy? Wow.

Something inside me snapped. I wiped my tears. Daphne’s eyes gleamed like she had won. That was the moment I decided.

“I overreacted,” I said quietly. “I’ll stay… for now. Give me time.”

Marshall smiled and kissed my forehead but that night, I lay curled up on the floor of the guest room, crying until my body hurt. Upstairs, Marshall was with Daphne in the master bedroom. Our bedroom.

I grieved for my parents. I grieved my marriage. I grieved for myself.

When my tears finally ran out, I reached for my phone. I called the one person who hated Marshall more than I did. The one man he was truly afraid of.

His older half brother. Percival Celestino.

Percival picked up after one ring. His voice was smooth, but beneath it was something that made the air feel heavy.

“Liora,” he said, slow and deliberate, “I don’t take calls from ghosts. What do you want?”

The sound of him sent a shiver down my spine. Percival Celestino was not just Marshall’s older half-brother. He was the head of the Circolo Nero, an old and dangerous wine-smuggling syndicate disguised as a luxury empire. In his world, people didn’t just die; they disappeared so cleanly it was as if they had never been born.

“I want to destroy Marshall,” I said. “Completely. I want him ruined, and I can’t do it alone.”

A pause. Long enough for me to imagine him deciding whether my life was worth the next breath I took. Then, a low chuckle… not amused, but approving.

“I’ve been waiting for this call,” he said. “Speak.”

I told him everything. Marshall cheating with Daphne. Moving her into our home on the day I buried my parents. His threats to burn down the vineyard my family had built from the soil up. Every insult. Every humiliation.

Percival didn’t interrupt. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. “When do you want him gone?”

“Four days.”

“Good,” he said. “I can bury a man in less time.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt something close to hope.

“I’ll handle it,” Percival continued, “But there’s a price.”

“What is it?”

“MARRY ME.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“Do it, and you’re untouchable. No one lays a hand on what’s mine. Not even Celestinos. Especially not Marshall.”

He then hung up without a goodbye.

That night, I barely slept. His voice stayed in my head… cold, certain, lethal. Marrying Percival would mean stepping into a world of quiet executions and smiling assassins, where wine cellars doubled as graves and power was bought in blood.

But with him… Marshall would never touch me again.

**

And then the next morning, my world tilted again.

I sat in the clinic’s waiting room, holding the paper the nurse had given me.

Positive.

Not just one heartbeat. Two.

I was pregnant with twins.

A bitter laugh slipped out as tears blurred my vision. Six years ago, the doctors told me I could never have children after the accident Marshall caused the night he’d been driving drunk, furious after a business deal went wrong. We’d crashed into a roadside barrier, the impact crushing my lower abdomen. While I lay in the hospital, barely conscious, he’d whispered: “I didn’t mean it… and then disappeared for days. The doctors told me the damage was permanent. I had believed them. I had accepted the cruel names. Barren. Broken. Useless.

And now this.

My phone buzzed. A message from Percival.

Three days. Decide.

Three days. I could be free in three days… but what about the babies? Could I bring them into this life? A world of betrayal, lies, and men like Marshall? Or worse, men like Percival?

I left the clinic in a daze and drove back home.

The front door opened and closed behind me.

“Well, well. Look at you. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

I didn’t even glance up from the couch. Then the sound of a car engine outside made my chest tighten. Marshall was home. I stood to leave before he could see me, but Daphne blocked my way.

“Don’t run off. Stay and watch your husband kiss me hello,” she mocked.

But I pushed past her and went to the guest room. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the lock.

It didn’t matter.

The door slammed open with a deafening crash. I spun around, startled.

Before I could get a word out, Marshall’s hand came across my face. The slap hit me so hard my ears rang. The floor met me before I could even breathe… My vision went black for a moment, and the copper taste of blood filled my mouth.

I just stayed there. Frozen.

Why?

Marshall had never laid a hand on me before.

“W-what the hell was that?” My voice cracked. “Why would you do that?”

Marshall’s glare didn’t waver. “How dare you laid your hands on Daphne! She’s carrying my child for fuck sake, Liora. Is that what you’ve become now?”

My stomach knotted. “What? I never touched her.”

Daphne stepped forward like she’d been waiting for her cue. “I came in to check on her. I brought tea, Marshall. I was trying to be kind. But she—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “She slapped me and told me I should’ve died instead of our parents. That the world would’ve been better without me. She said she hated my guts and…” Her eyes darted to me, brimming with crocodile tears. “…and that she was planning to kill me.”

My pulse spiked. “That’s a lie—”

“She even grabbed a knife from the table,” Daphne pushed on, ignoring me. “She pointed it at me, Marshall. Said she wanted to watch the light leave my eyes. I thought she was going to stab me right there.”

“You lying witch!”

She looked away like she couldn’t bear my cruelty, but I saw the flicker of satisfaction in her eyes.

Marshall’s voice dropped, low and sharp. “Get out of my sight before I lose control.”

“You believe her over me?” I felt my throat burn.

He didn’t even blink. “You’re not the same, Liora. Losing the baby years ago broke you. Now you’re just… bitter.”

A bitter laugh escaped before I could stop it. Blood ran down to my lip. I wiped it away with the back of my hand. His eyes flicked to the red smear, and for half a second, I thought I saw guilt.

“Li—” he started, but Daphne made a small whimper behind him.

“My head… it hurts, Marshall,” she whispered. “She hit me so hard.”

He turned to her instantly, his arm going around her like I didn’t exist anymore. And Daphne glanced at me over his shoulder, her lips curling into the tiniest smirk.

Three days. I just had to survive three more days.

***

The next morning, I slipped out early. The air was cool, but my chest felt heavy as I sat in the clinic’s waiting room. My hand rested on my stomach. It was still flat, but I knew what was inside. Two heartbeats. Two tiny lives I never thought I could have.

The nurse called my name. My legs felt weak as I followed her into the room. The doctor looked up, startled.

“Mrs. Celestino,” he said. “I remember you.”

I gave a faint smile.

He glanced at my file, then back at me. “Are you certain you want to go through with this?”

I stayed quiet.

“Liora,” he said softly, “this pregnancy is a miracle. If you end it, there will be no second chance.”

His words hit me like a punch. I pressed my palm to my stomach. I thought about all those years I cried myself to sleep, begging God for just one miracle. The way my heart cracked every time someone else announced a pregnancy. And now, when the impossible had finally happened, I was about to throw it away because of Marshall. Because of his betrayal.

The pressure in my chest broke, and I couldn’t hold it in anymore. Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them. My voice came out shaky, almost a whisper. “I’m… I'm keeping them…”

“That’s the right choice, Liora.”

When I walked out of the clinic, it felt like the air was lighter. I wasn’t free yet, but in three days I would be gone. I would disappear with my children and start over far away from all this poison.

“Liora!”

The sound of my name made me freeze. I turned slowly and saw Marshall was striding toward me.

Before I could take a step back, his hand clamped around my arm. “Thank God I caught you,” he gripping me so hard I knew there would be bruises later.

“What is it now?” My voice came out flat, tired.

“It’s Daphne,” he said. “She’s in the hospital. High fever all night from the stress and from the way you attacked her.” His eyes were sharp with accusation. “You did this, Liora.”

My laugh was bitter and humorless. “I already fucking told you. I never touched her!”

He ignored me completely. “She passed out this morning. Doctors say her fever spiked, she’s too weak. And now she needs a blood transfusion.”

I frowned. “And that has what to do with me?”

Marshall’s jaw tightened. “You’re the match. You're her twin. You’re the only one who can save her.”

“You want my blood? After everything she’s done to me?” My stomach turned.

His grip on my arm tightened painfully. “This isn’t about your petty feelings. This is about saving two lives. You can be bitter later. Right now you’re going to do what’s right.”

I tried to pull away, but he started dragging me toward the parking lot. My heels scraped the ground. “There are other donors. Check another hospital. I’m not doing this.”

He stopped, turned to me, and his voice went cold. “You will, because this is your fault.”

“You will never believe me over her, will you?”

He didn’t answer. Just started pulling me again.

I swallowed hard, then blurted the words I’d been keeping to myself. “I’m pregnant.”