The nurses froze. The doctor looked at the floor. No one wanted to defy him.

One nurse turned to me, her voice almost apologetic. “Mrs. Celestino… we need your consent.”

I stared at Marshall, my tears falling one by one. “You’ve always claimed you wanted a child, and now that I’m carrying your twins, you’d throw them away for Daphne’s fake illness?”

He gave a bitter laugh. “You were going to abort them anyway.”

I shook my head. “And you just heard I cancelled it.”

Marshall sighed as if I were a stubborn child. “Liora, your pregnancy isn’t stable. The odds aren’t in your favor. Daphne’s condition is more secure. Her baby has a real chance.”

My stomach dropped. “So you’re willing to kill mine for hers.”

He stepped forward, softening his tone like that would make it better. “It’s not about that. Daphne’s vitals are slipping. Yours… well, you might not make it next month.”

I couldn’t speak. I could only look at him and realize he wasn’t just saving a life. He was choosing a woman. And it wasn’t me.

“You’ve already made your choice,” I whispered.

Daphne let out a small, practiced cough from the bed. His attention snapped to her instantly, leaving me invisible.

The nurse’s touch on my arm was light, her eyes full of pity. “Mrs. Celestino… please.”

Marshall didn’t look back.

I swallowed hard. “Do it.”

The needle slid into my arm. My blood flowed into the tube. I stared at the floor, willing myself not to cry. My chest tightened, and dizziness rolled over me in waves.

The nurse checked the monitor and gasped. “Her vitals are dropping!”

“Stop the transfusion,” the doctor ordered.

Marshall shoved him back. “Don’t stop. Daphne needs it.”

“She’s stable,” the nurse shot back.

“You’re blind if you think she’s fine,” Marshall snapped.

Pain tore through me. My vision blurred. I could taste blood. My body was trembling uncontrollably.

Somewhere in the haze, my thoughts went to Percival. The way his voice had wrapped around the word finally, like he had been waiting for me all along. I had told him to wait. I had never said yes.

The medical staff argued with Marshall, their voices a jumble. He never looked at me. Only at Daphne.

I managed to whisper, barely audible. “God… please save my babies.”

And then everything went dark.

**

When I woke up, I honestly wished I hadn’t. My whole body hurt like I had been thrown down a flight of stairs and run over for good measure. There was this horrible empty feeling inside me, like something had been ripped away.

“Oh, Mrs. Celestino. You’re finally awake. We thought we were going to lose you,” a female doctor said quietly from beside me.

My throat felt like sandpaper. My limbs were heavy, sore, bruised in places I didn’t even know could bruise. I blinked against the blinding hospital lights, trying to remember why I was here. For a second, I thought maybe it was a bad dream.

But then it all came back.

Marshall. Daphne. The blood transfusion. The pain. The panic. The screaming inside my head.

Fear clawed its way up my chest as I turned my head toward the doctor. Her expression was careful, too careful. I already knew.

“My babies…” My voice cracked. “Please tell me they’re okay.”

She hesitated. That pause was worse than any answer she could have given me.

Her eyes softened, and she shook her head. “We tried everything. I’m sorry. The twins didn’t make it.”

The world stopped moving. And then I broke… I sobbed until my lungs gave out, until my body shook and my stitches pulled, until my vision blurred with tears. I cried for the two little lives I never got to hold, for the tiny kicks I’d never feel again, for the future that Marshall had stolen from me without a second thought.

If I had known this was how it would end, maybe I would have ended the pregnancy early, before I let myself love them.

When the tears finally slowed, I wiped my face with trembling fingers. My mind drifted to the last conversation I’d had with Percival. His offer.

“W-what day is it?”

“It’s Thursday,” she said gently. “You’ve been unconscious for two days.”

Two days. That meant I was running out of time.

“I need my phone, please.”

“It’s in the drawer beside you.”

I took the phone. My hands shook as I typed the message:

“I’ll take your offer. Meet me at the airport.”

“Finally. I was starting to think you’d changed your mind, little grapes.”

“Never.” I typed back.

The doctor asked if I needed anything else. I gave her a smile that tasted like metal. “Did anyone come to see me?”

“I’m sorry. No one came.”

Something in me went cold then. Not the kind of cold that makes you shiver. The kind that settles deep, like frost in your bones.

When she left, I stared at the wall for a long time. Eventually, I pushed the blanket off me. Pain tore through my body, but I ignored it.

“Mrs. Celestino?” A nurse had just walked in. “You shouldn’t be moving. You lost a lot of blood. Your stitches—”

“I’m leaving,” I said flatly. “I don’t care if I’m still bleeding. I’m not staying here another second.”

She tried to reason with me. “You’re not stable enough. We haven’t—”

“I said I’m leaving. Just give me whatever I need to sign.”

She stared at me for a long moment, then walked out. A few minutes later, she came back with the discharge papers.

Every step toward the door felt like climbing a mountain barefoot. My legs shook, my back screamed, but I kept going.

Halfway down the hall, I saw them. Marshall and Daphne. My twin sister.

They were in another room, sitting side by side. Smiling. Laughing. Like nothing had happened. Like my babies had never existed.

I turned away before they could see me.

They had already taken everything from me once. I wasn’t going to let them do it again.

And this time, I had Percival. The man who hid his empire behind polite smiles. The man people whispered about but never named out loud.

The man who could burn the Celestinos to the ground without lifting a finger.

And I was done being their victim.

Marshall was feeding her soup with this fake gentle smile, like he actually cared. Daphne sat there, looking fragile but smug, soaking up all the attention like a queen.

Before, seeing them together would have crushed me. Now, I felt nothing. I turned to slip away, but, as usual, luck wasn’t on my side.

“Liora?” Marshall’s voice caught me. I stiffened, jaw tightening.

I turned slowly, keeping my face blank, trying to hide the storm inside. When our eyes met, I caught something flicker in him… guilt, maybe. Like he’d just remembered I was even there.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he stuttered, pushing himself up from the chair beside Daphne. “How are you feeling?”

I said nothing. Not a word. My silence was louder than any answer I could give.

Marshall’s shoulders slumped. “Your sacrifice… it wasn’t for nothing,” he said quietly, looking at me like he wanted me to believe it. “Daphne’s fine. The baby’s healthy and strong. You saved them both.”

I laughed. It was sharp, bitter, without any humor. Marshall flinched like he’d been hit.

Daphne rested her hand on her flat belly, smiling all sweetness, “Marshall hasn’t left me alone for a second. He’s been so good to me.”

I wasn’t about to sit and listen to their sick show. I turned to leave, but Marshall jumped up, reaching for me.

“Wait, Liora. Just wait.”

I froze. Not because I wanted to hear him, but because I knew how ridiculous it would sound.

“I’m throwing a party tonight,” he blurted out. “To celebrate your recovery and Daphne coming home safe. It’s been a rough road. My father’s going to be there. He really wants to see you.”

I didn’t say a thing.

He stepped closer, his voice softer, trying to sound sincere. “Let me give you a ride home. We’re all going the same way.”

“I’m not going home,” I said flatly. “I’m going to my parents’ vineyard.”

Percival had promised to watch over the vineyard once I accepted his offer. It was the only piece of my parents left, the only thing Marshall could never touch.

Marshall blinked, confused. “The vineyard? Why?”

I tilted my head, keeping my face cold. “I have business there. None of your concern.”

Daphne perked up suddenly, her fake sweetness on full display. “Perfect timing. I was going to visit too. It is our parents’ vineyard after all.”

That caught me off guard. She’d always acted like it didn’t exist.

Marshall nodded quickly. “Then we’ll come with you.”

I stared at him, surprised at how fast he agreed. This was the same man who always called the vineyard a waste, a burden. But now, with Daphne mentioning it, he jumped at the chance.

I sneered quietly. “Fine. You can come. But there’s one thing I need from you first.”

Marshall straightened, hopeful. “Anything.”

I reached into my bag and pulled out the discharge papers I’d been holding since he brought Daphne home. Divorce paper.

He took the papers, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s this?”

“My discharge form,” I said flat, not meeting his eyes.

He hesitated, always so careful about what he signed. But then he glanced at Daphne, who fluttered her lashes and smiled sweetly, and suddenly he forgot all caution.

“I’m tired, Marshall,” she purred. “Let’s go home quickly.”

He nodded, barely looking at the papers before signing. The moment his pen lifted, a small smirk played on my lips.

“Thank you,” I said, slipping the papers back into my bag. “Now I’m free from you.”

He didn’t catch the meaning behind my words. He was too busy fussing over Daphne, completely blind to what I was really planning.

When we got to the car, Daphne was quick to reach for the front passenger door like she owned it. But Marshall grabbed her arm gently and stopped her.

“Hold on, Daphne,” he said, then turned to me with a small, hopeful smile. “Liora, maybe you should take the front seat.”

“No way. I get so dizzy sitting in the back.” Daphne pouted, throwing a little fit. “Our baby was making me feel awful lately, Marshall.”

I rolled my eyes.

Marshall looked stuck between us, clearly trying to figure out how to keep us both happy.

“It’s okay,” I said coldly. “Let her have the front.” Marshall started to protest, but I cut him off. “I said it’s fine. Let her sit up front. I don’t care.”

There was a heavy silence. Daphne beamed like she won, and Marshall frowned but didn’t argue.

I slid into the backseat, my whole body aching, but I said nothing. Leaning my head against the cold window, I stared outside like I wasn’t really there.

After a few minutes, Daphne began her usual game, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

She rested her hand on Marshall’s thigh, her fingers slowly tracing circles. I didn’t bother looking, but from the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing back at me with this smug little smirk.

Marshall stiffened immediately. “Daphne,” he muttered under his breath, moving her hand away.

“What?” she said, innocent as ever.

When he said nothing more, she tried again, this time moving her fingers higher.

“I said stop!” Marshall snapped, his voice sharper now.

She flinched and suddenly tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away and began quietly sobbing into her hands.

“Why are you yelling at me?” she whimpered, “I’m carrying child, Marshall. And you’re yelling at me?”

Marshall sighed, his expression softening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to yell. Just... not when she’s here.”

He never said my name. Like I was invisible, like I didn’t exist back there.

Daphne sniffled, then leaned forward to rummage through the glove box. “Just looking for tissues,” she said quietly.

What she pulled out was definitely not tissues.

It was a small piece of lace bright red panties. She giggled, holding them up like a trophy.

“Oh, Marshall,” she said playfully. “Remember when we couldn’t make it to the hotel? You just pulled me into your lap right here in the car.”

“That’s enough,” Marshall said sharply without looking at her.

“Oh, relax,” Daphne rolled her eyes. “Liora gets it. Hormones make you crazy. Lucky you’re here to help.”

She slid her hand back onto Marshall’s thigh. This time, he didn’t move it away.

Marshall glanced in the rearview mirror and our eyes met for a split second. I looked away before he could see the storm inside me.

Once, that same glance could melt me.

I still remember the first time we met. It was at a charity dinner my parents were hosting… he’d been a last-minute guest, filling in for some investor who’d backed out. He’d stood there in his dark suit, tall, broad-shouldered, with that half-smile.

“Do you always stare at people this way?” he’d asked me, and I’d been too stunned to answer. Later that night, he walked me to my car and kissed me under the moon. Back then, he didn’t just look at me, he saw me.

For the first two years, he treated me like I was the only woman in the world. No matter how busy his work got, he always showed up at the vineyard for Friday night dinners, always made sure my glass was full, always asked if I’d eaten. Sometimes, we’d sneak away into the vines, laughing like teenagers.

Then Daphne came back.

She’d been abroad for “architecture school” a term she liked to toss around to make herself sound impressive. But the truth? She never finished a degree. Hated studying. Changed courses every semester like she was trying on clothes she’d never buy. Paris, Rome, Tokyo— she’d been everywhere except anywhere she was supposed to be.

When she finally came home, she brought chaos with her. At first, it was subtle. Little laughs at my expense. Innocent touches on Marshall’s arm during family dinners. And now, here we were… her hand on his thigh.

The man who once swore he’d never let anyone come between us was now sitting next to the only woman who ever had.

**

When I finally got to the vineyard, I didn’t say a word. I got out and walked past Marshall and Daphne without looking back.

The wrought-iron gates stood tall, the same as they had for decades. Familiar, yet heavy with memories. My parents had bought this land in the early 1980s, turning bare soil into rows of vines that fed generations. They were gone now, leaving this vineyard as the only piece of their lives I had left.

My chest tightened with the memory, but I pushed it down. I had business to handle.

Mr. Hernando, the estate manager, looked up from his ledger when I entered the main house. His eyes went wide at the sight of me, then softened with a warm smile.

“Miss Liora,” he said, standing up quickly. “Welcome back.”

“I need to talk to you,” I said, cutting straight to it.

We were wrapping up when a sharp, terrified scream ripped through the air from outside.

My heart stopped. Something was wrong.

I bolted toward the door, Mr. Hernando close to my heels.

As soon as I stepped outside, the acrid stench of smoke hit me like a punch.

Shouts came from the west fields.

I ran forward and froze, staring in horror at the flames devouring the vines, the very lifeblood of my parents’ legacy.