The offer came the same week the pregnancy was confirmed.

I was standing at the window of my Italy apartment, staring out at the quiet street below, when Zion’s message popped up:

“If you want to come home, I’m ready. Let’s get married.”

My first reaction wasn’t joy. It was relief.

Because the truth was, I wasn’t just saying yes to a man. I was choosing an escape route.

Because I was carrying twins.

Because I had to protect them—from Kenji, from the mess, from everything I could no longer control.

Later that day, I called Tristan. My brother sounded lighter the second he answered.

“I’ve made up my mind—I’m coming back home to get married,” I told him.

The pause was brief but filled with emotion. “That’s honestly such great news,” Tristan said, exhaling like he’d been holding his breath for years. “You’ve been in Italy what, three years now? Living your dream, building your brand... Mom and Dad were starting to think you’d settled down over there permanently. It’s good to know you’re finally coming back.”

His words were kind, but they landed like weights.

Three years.

Three long, complicated years.

Everyone thought I’d crossed the ocean for my career. That I’d followed my passion for fashion design, that my spot in the industry had brought me to Italy. Our parents were proud, investing in my education, excited for their daughter to take over the family’s luxury label someday.

But none of them knew the full story.

I hadn’t just moved for a career.

I’d followed a man.

Kenji.

Kenji, Tristan’s best friend. Kenji, his business partner. Kenji, the one who dazzled everyone—smart, charming, untouchable. No one, not even Tristan, suspected how deep it had gone between us. That behind closed doors, Kenji and I had become entangled in something raw, messy, secretive. That he was the reason I left everything I knew.

He’d made me promise to keep it hidden.

Said he didn’t want to complicate things with Tristan.

Said we’d go public later, when the timing was right.

I believed him.

I believed every whispered lie, every kiss that felt like a promise, every moment that seemed like the beginning of forever.

I wore that secrecy like a badge of honor. Convinced myself it meant we were building something sacred. That our silence was a form of devotion.

But Kenji’s love always came with terms and expiration dates. And when Chloe came back into the picture—his ex, his first love, his undoing—everything between us cracked.

Tristan’s voice pulled me out of the memory. “By the way,” he added, “Mom and Dad already have someone in mind for you. He’s amazing, seriously—smart, grounded, raised right. I think you’ll really like him.”

He didn’t give a name. Just quickly switched topics. “Also… you should reach out to Kenji before the wedding. He’s still in Italy, right? Wasn’t he like a brother to you? You should totally invite him.”

My stomach twisted.

Brother.

If only he knew.

“I haven’t really talked to him in a while,” I managed.

Tristan’s laugh was easy. “Yeah, same. He’s been weird lately. Off the radar. Probably busy. Anyway—just think about it.”

But I didn’t need to.

Because everything had already shifted between me and Kenji.

He changed when Chloe returned to the city.

The moment I saw him kiss her in the park like they were the only people on the planet, I knew. Something inside me broke so cleanly, so quietly, it almost felt like a relief.

The front door creaked behind me.

“What wedding?” came a voice from across the room.

My entire body froze.

Kenji.

I spun around, clutching the phone like it could protect me. He stood there in the doorway like he belonged, like everything was still as it used to be.

I ended the call with Tristan.

Kenji stepped into the room with that usual lazy confidence, pretending nothing had changed. Pretending I hadn’t seen what I saw. Acting like he hadn’t kissed someone else with the kind of tenderness he used to reserve for me.

He glanced around, then repeated casually, “So… who’s getting married?”

I gave him the softest smile I could fake. “Just a friend,” I said, each word brittle. “Nothing big.”

He wrapped an arm around me like it was still his right. Like we weren’t already over. “You should wear that blue dress,” he murmured. “You looked unreal in it last time.”

I nodded, biting the inside of my cheek. “Maybe.”

Kenji dropped onto the couch, scrolling through his phone like we weren’t standing on the ruins of everything we used to be. Like yesterday hadn’t turned my heart inside out.

He looked up with that old familiar smile—the one that used to pull me in like gravity. “I’m starving,” he said cheerfully.

I walked toward the kitchen on autopilot. “I’ll cook,” I replied.

He followed me, slipping into the role of the doting boyfriend like muscle memory. He leaned against the counter, stole sips from my glass, teased me between tasks, acting like we were still okay.

I made his favorite meal without thinking.

Every motion was rehearsed.

Every smell, every sound—it was all drenched in painful familiarity.

He lit up when I served him, like a child being handed their favorite dessert.

“You always spoil me,” he said between bites. “How’d I get so lucky, huh?”

I just smiled and nodded.

He didn’t know I’d already packed my heart and folded it away.

He didn’t know that while he devoured the meal, I’d already made peace with never standing in this kitchen again.

Let him eat.

Let him think this was just another night.

Because by tomorrow, I’d be gone.

Gone home.

Gone to marry someone else.

Gone from the wreckage of a love he never valued enough to protect.

I had clung to this man like he was air.

But the truth?

He was the weight I was drowning under.

Across the table, Kenji looked up, smiling like always—warm, charming, effortless.

“These quiet nights? They’re the best,” he mumbled between bites, still looking at me like I hung the stars.

I gave him a small smile.

Funny how things change.

While he sat at the table devouring the meal I had just served, my mind slipped away from the present…

It all began merely a week ago.

At that time, I was genuinely overjoyed—elated in a way that made everything seem weightless. I had just discovered I was expecting his children. Not just one. But twins.

I could still see the image on the ultrasound screen, the grainy shapes that confirmed a miracle. My hands had been shaking, my heart galloping. It felt like the universe had finally handed me a piece of happiness. A future. I had even crafted a silly little plan to surprise him—tucked the ultrasound printout into a tiny gift box inside my purse, thinking how sweet the moment would be.

That day, I arrived at his apartment earlier than expected, my face stretched in an uncontrollable grin, my stomach fluttering with anticipation. But just as I reached his front door, a sound stopped me. It was slightly ajar, just enough for voices to drift out into the hall.

I recognized his laugh instantly—Kenji’s.

“She’s so easy to deceive,” he said casually, his tone light, even amused. “I just act like I love her. This whole thing? It’s all payback for what her family did to Chloe.”

I stood there, paralyzed.

A male voice laughed in response from inside. “Man, that’s next-level vengeance.”

Kenji chuckled again. “She buys into it all—hook, line, and sinker. She really thinks we’re soulmates or whatever. She’s so desperate to feel loved, it’s pathetic. And honestly? She’s dull in bed. Like drinking lukewarm tap water. Nothing compared to my Chloe. She’s wild. Electric. I always finish with her.”

The cruel laughter that followed echoed like gunshots. I felt like someone had plunged a dagger into my chest and started twisting, but I still couldn’t make myself move.

Chloe.

The girl who had stolen my life.

And not by coincidence. Not by fate.

It was a deliberate act. A carefully executed theft.

When I was born, my parents celebrated me as their miracle—an only child born into privilege, into a legacy that turned heads in every room. But Marga, our loyal household maid, had secrets of her own. She was pregnant, too. No one knew. She hid the truth under oversized clothing and silent suffering. The father? A sweet-talking fraud who ran the moment responsibility knocked.

She gave birth hours after my mother did. Her daughter had no family name, no future, no inheritance. Nothing but disgrace.

So she made a horrifying decision. She switched us.

She handed her baby to my unsuspecting mother and took me away in the night. For the first few years, she raised me as her own, pretending to be a devoted guardian. Then she vanished—disappeared without warning or explanation. No letter. No goodbye. Nothing. I was dumped into the foster care system, passed from one indifferent family to the next.

Meanwhile, her daughter—Chloe—grew up wearing my clothes, sleeping in my bed, living in the world meant for me.

No one suspected a thing. Not until years later, when Chloe crashed her car.

Drunk. Reckless. Spoiled beyond redemption.

That night began the unraveling. A blood test after the accident raised questions. Quiet DNA tests followed. Investigations took place behind closed doors.

And then—me.

The daughter they had lost, and thought they’d never find.

They tracked me down in an orphanage. Brought me back like I was a miracle reborn. Their apologies were wrapped in every gift. Their guilt showed in every hug.

And Chloe?

She was ripped from the life she believed was hers. She didn’t go quietly. She screamed. She kicked. She threatened.

“You’ll pay for this!” she shouted at me. “You stole everything! Now I’m stealing it back!”

At the time, I thought it was just rage talking. A tantrum born from loss.

But watching Kenji now—chewing contentedly on the food I cooked with trembling hands and a broken heart—I understood.

She wasn’t bluffing.

She meant it.

Kenji had been part of her plan. Maybe from the very beginning. Maybe all of this had always been an act of revenge. I thought I was building something meaningful with him. I thought our relationship was genuine.

But I was wrong. I didn’t see the darkness inside him until it was too late.

Now I was carrying his children. And everything was unraveling because of Chloe, because of their shared past.

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

But I did.

I’m not the villain they’ve cast me as. I’m not the broken girl in their twisted little story. I’m rewriting the script. And this time? I’m in charge of the ending.

---

That night, while we lay in bed, he wrapped his arms around me like chains—tight and suffocating. His limbs were heavy across my abdomen, his breath brushing hot against my neck. A part of me ached to believe it was love. Another part of me wanted to scream.

He assumed I was deeply asleep.

So when he slowly began to ease away, moving with careful, practiced stealth, I didn’t flinch.

I waited.

Then I got up.

Barefoot and breathing in shallow bursts, I crept through the apartment like a ghost, the silence amplifying my heartbeat. When I heard the door click shut behind him, I followed seconds later, the cold night air smacking me awake.

I saw them by the iron gate.

Shrouded in darkness.

He didn’t hesitate.

He gripped her and kissed her like a man starved, fevered and hungry. She clung to him just as fiercely. Like animals reunited, devouring each other without shame.

But that wasn’t the worst part.

They didn’t stop at kisses.

They went further. Right there. Up against the fence like rabid strays, no care for the world around them. The same hands that had cradled my growing belly only hours earlier were now locked around her waist, pulling her in as if I never existed.

I wanted to look away. But I couldn’t.

I stood frozen, every breath burning, bile rising in my throat, fists clenched until my nails pierced skin.

Then I heard their voices.

Amid their chaotic movements, they spoke.

No words of affection. No romance.

Only strategy.

“I told you Celeste would fall hard,” Kenji groaned, low and mocking. “Completely. She never saw it coming.”

Chloe’s breath hitched, but her words were sharp. “So what now?”

Kenji’s laugh was chilling. “Now? I’ve got everything. I’m inside her world. The money. Her name. The company. All of it—it’s practically mine already.”

“And after?” she asked, her tone laced with venom.

He leaned into her, whispering with glee. “After I crush her. Tear her apart. And then I hand everything over to you.”

Chloe chuckled darkly, stroking his cheek. “Good boy. I’ve waited three years to destroy her. I want what she stole—every last jewel, every cent of that legacy.”

My vision blurred.

My knees trembled.

He had lured me in, made me fall. And now he was going to gut everything—my trust, my legacy, my love—and deliver it to the imposter who had already taken enough.

Chloe.

The girl who had lived my life in my place.

The girl who was never meant to exist in my chapter.

But this isn’t a tragedy anymore. Not for me.

They tried to cast me as the fragile one. The lost one. The fool.

But I’m no longer a pawn in their cruel fairytale.

They wrote the beginning.

I’m finishing the ending.

And they’ll regret the day they ever underestimated me.

I was lying flat on the stiff hospital bed, the antiseptic tang in the air making my head spin. The choice felt already settled, heavy like a stone on my chest. My brain kept screaming—just do it, get it over with. End the pregnancy. Two babies. A whirlwind of betrayal and lies. What reason was there to bring them into this madness?

Still, even as that voice rattled in my head, something deep in my chest protested. No one knew yet. I hadn’t told a soul. These tiny lives growing inside me—they belonged to me. They were connected to me in a way nothing else ever had been.

While the nurse began preparing the tools for the procedure, I couldn’t stop picturing the twins. What if there was still a chance I could keep them safe? Maybe I could figure it out, somehow. I wasn’t a murderer. I couldn’t let this happen.

Suddenly, I yanked the IV out of my arm without thinking. The sting of it snapped me into reality. Heart pounding, feet bare, I jumped off the bed and tore down the hallway. Voices called after me, the clatter of shoes and alarms behind me, but I didn’t stop.

I ran.

Out through the sterile lobby. Down the staircase. Through the automatic doors. Into the underground parking lot, where the shadows swallowed me whole.

That’s when I saw her.

Leaning beside her car, arms crossed over her chest. Her stomach barely showing beneath her high-end coat. When her eyes landed on me, they lit with cold fury.

“Oh, give me a break,” she sneered. “Are you actually following me now?”

I froze mid-step. “What... what are you doing here?”

She tilted her head with mock sweetness. “Doctor’s appointment. Eight weeks along. Baby’s doing just fine.”

The breath caught in my lungs. “Wait. You’re pregnant?”

Her grin widened like a blade. “Take a wild guess who the dad is.”

My knees almost gave out. “This was your plan all along.”

“You ruined everything I had,” she snapped, stepping closer. “My parents. My legacy. My future. So now I’m just reclaiming what you stole.”

I turned to walk away, pushing past her as she casually opened her car door. “Run, then,” she called after me, voice dripping with mockery. “That’s your specialty, isn’t it?”

I kept moving, trying not to cry, trying not to fall apart. But then—

A screech. An engine roaring.

I turned.

The headlights hit me like a wall of white.

Metal slammed into my body. I flew like a ragdoll. Landed hard on the ground—my skull cracked against the pavement. Pain erupted down my spine and into my belly. My vision spun in violent circles. My ears rang.

Blood.

Warm, thick, and everywhere. Flowing beneath me like ink spilling from a broken bottle. My limbs were useless. My hands instinctively clutched at my belly.

My children.

Chloe emerged from the car, her heels tapping across the concrete like she was stepping onto a catwalk. She knelt down beside me, took off her sunglasses with slow precision—and spit in my face.

“Look at you,” she said with disgust. “Bleeding all over the place. You’re even pathetic at dying.”

I opened my mouth, trying to plead, but my voice was gone.

She leaned in closer, her perfume suffocating, her words like venom. “You actually believed you mattered, didn’t you? That your DNA made you royalty? Please. You’re a walking accident. A theft in human form.”

Hot tears ran down my cheeks, my vision dimming at the edges.

“Oh, come on,” she continued with fake sympathy. “Save the tears. You should’ve cried before you let Kenji crawl between your legs. But then again, he always said you were a total bore. Like kissing a corpse. No spark. No passion. That’s why he always came back to me.”

She laughed. Harsh. Wild. Unhinged.

“You know what he used to say?” she said, mimicking his voice in a cruel tone. “‘She’s like flavorless soup.’ And then he’d hold me and whisper, ‘Chloe, you make me feel alive. Celeste just makes me feel... obligated.’”

A broken noise escaped me. I trembled uncontrollably, blood soaking my clothes. Then her phone buzzed.

She answered it like nothing had happened, her voice suddenly all sugar and sunshine. “Hey baby.”

Kenji’s voice echoed through the speaker. “Hey, beautiful. Did you get to the clinic yet?”

She turned her back to me like I was a dead insect. “Just arrived. Our little one’s already doing flips, I swear.”

Kenji laughed lightly. “I seriously can’t wait. I’ve never wanted to be a dad more.”

I let out a weak sob.

She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes devoid of any empathy. “Hear that?” she whispered down at me. “That’s what it sounds like when someone actually wants you.”

Kenji kept talking, oblivious. “Think it’s a boy?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she replied sweetly. “As long as it’s ours.”

“You’re gonna be the sexiest mom ever,” he said with a chuckle. “I’ll be there in ten. Miss you already.”

She ended the call, dropped her phone into her bag, and looked back down at me.

“I warned you, didn’t I?” she murmured, slipping her glasses back on. “I told you I’d strip it all from you.”

Then, with the grace of someone stepping over trash, she walked away.

Leaving me broken, bleeding, and fading fast. My life pooling on the concrete. My babies slipping away with every second.

But someone came.

A voice I hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

“Celeste! Don’t go to sleep, stay with me,” he called out, and suddenly I felt strong arms lifting me off the ground. “Keep your eyes open. You’re safe now.”

And just before the darkness dragged me under, I saw his face.

The only boy who had ever looked at me like I truly mattered.

But even that might have come too late.