My Fiancé's Twin, A Cruel Deception

Johan Gorski

Romance | Completed

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My fiancé has a twin brother. For the past year, the man I' ve shared a bed with wasn't my fiancé at all. I discovered the man I loved was just an actor, a stand-in. My real fiancé, Brandon, was secretly married to his adopted sister, Caryl. But their plan was far more sinister than just swapping places. They were going to let me marry the twin, then stage an "accident" to harvest my corneas for Caryl. When I discovered their plot, Caryl framed me for attacking her. Brandon, the man who swore to protect me, had me whipped until I was bleeding on the floor. Then she murdered his grandfather and blamed me. He didn't hesitate. He threw me into a psychiatric hospital to rot. He never once questioned her lies. He simply discarded me, the woman he claimed to love for five years. But they forgot one thing. I wasn't just Farah Moore, a helpless orphan. I am Aurora Valois, heiress to an empire. After being rescued from that hell, I faked my death and disappeared. Now, I'm back to start a new life, and this time, I'm living for myself.

Thriller Betrayal Revenge Twins Rebirth/Reborn

Chapter 20

01-06 21:43

Chapter 1

My fiancé has a twin brother. For the past year, the man I' ve shared a bed with wasn't my fiancé at all.

I discovered the man I loved was just an actor, a stand-in. My real fiancé, Brandon, was secretly married to his adopted sister, Caryl.

But their plan was far more sinister than just swapping places. They were going to let me marry the twin, then stage an "accident" to harvest my corneas for Caryl.

When I discovered their plot, Caryl framed me for attacking her. Brandon, the man who swore to protect me, had me whipped until I was bleeding on the floor.

Then she murdered his grandfather and blamed me. He didn't hesitate. He threw me into a psychiatric hospital to rot.

He never once questioned her lies. He simply discarded me, the woman he claimed to love for five years.

But they forgot one thing. I wasn't just Farah Moore, a helpless orphan. I am Aurora Valois, heiress to an empire. After being rescued from that hell, I faked my death and disappeared. Now, I'm back to start a new life, and this time, I'm living for myself.

Chapter 1

Farah Moore POV:

My fiancé has a twin brother. For the past year, the man I' ve shared a bed with wasn't my fiancé at all.

I learned this from an anonymous text message.

"Come to the Starlight Villa. Room 302. You'll find a surprise."

I almost deleted it. Brandon and I had been together for five years. We were getting married next month. This felt like a pathetic, desperate attempt by some woman who couldn't accept that he was off the market.

My finger hovered over the block button.

But then, a second message came through. It was a video.

My heart started a slow, heavy drumbeat against my ribs. I pressed play.

The video was shaky, filmed from across a dimly lit bar. I saw a man who looked exactly like Brandon-the same sharp jawline, the same dark hair that he was always pushing back from his forehead. But this man was different. He was slouched over the counter, a cheap cigarette dangling from his lips, his eyes holding a cynical, reckless glint I had never seen in Brandon.

He was laughing with the person filming.

"So, you're really going through with it?" the person behind the camera asked. "You're just gonna pretend to be him? And marry his girl?"

The man who looked like Brandon took a long drag from his cigarette and blew a smoke ring. "Why not? He's paying me enough to make it worth my while. Besides," he smirked, his voice a gravelly echo of my fiancé's smooth tenor, "it sounds like a fun game. Stepping into the perfect CEO's life for a bit."

The video ended.

The phone slipped from my numb fingers, clattering against the hardwood floor. I couldn't breathe. It felt like a band was tightening around my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.

A game. My life, our love, was a game.

I didn't hesitate. I grabbed my keys, my mind a storm of denial and white-hot terror. I drove to the Starlight Villa, the address from the text burning behind my eyes.

The villa was a private, secluded resort Brandon owned, a place reserved for his most important clients. I had never been here. He always said he wanted to keep his work life separate from ours.

I found Room 302. The door was slightly ajar. My hand trembled as I pushed it open just enough to see inside.

And then I heard his voice. Brandon's real voice. Not the rough imitation from the video, but the one that had whispered promises in my ear for five years.

"Be good, Caryl. Just a little more of the soup."

It was a tone I hadn't heard in years. Gentle. Patient. Full of a tenderness he no longer showed me.

I peered through the crack. Brandon was sitting on the edge of a bed, carefully feeding soup to a woman with a bandage wrapped around her eyes. Caryl. His adopted sister.

He gently wiped a drop of soup from her chin with his thumb. It was an act of such casual intimacy that a wave of nausea washed over me.

She was wearing his watch. The Patek Philippe I had saved for two years to buy him for our third anniversary. It hung loosely on her delicate wrist, a constant, glittering reminder of a love that was supposed to be mine.

"I don't want it, Brandon," Caryl murmured, her voice weak and fragile. "It tastes bitter."

"I know," he soothed. "But it's good for you. The doctor said you need the nutrients to help your recovery." He spoke about the car crash she'd been in a year ago, the one that had supposedly given her a severe brain injury, causing amnesia and partial blindness. He said it was his fault, that he should have been driving.

My heart, which I thought couldn't break any further, splintered into a million pieces.

Then Caryl' s fragile voice cut through the air again. "Brother... are we really married?"

The spoon in Brandon' s hand stopped midway to her lips. The silence in the room was deafening.

"Yes," he said, his voice low and firm. "We are."

The world tilted on its axis. My ears were ringing. Married. He was married to his sister. While he was engaged to me.

"Then...then what about Farah?" Caryl asked, her bandaged face turning in my general direction as if she could sense me there. "You're still getting married to her next month."

Brandon set the bowl down. "Don't worry about her. It's just a formality."

A formality. Five years of my life, a formality.

"I'll have Danial go through with the ceremony," he continued, his voice chillingly calm. "She loves me so much, she's completely obedient. She won't notice the difference. After the wedding, we'll arrange for a little... accident. Her corneas are a perfect match for you, Caryl. Once you have her eyes, you'll be able to see again."

I clapped a hand over my mouth to stifle a scream. My blood ran cold. He wasn't just planning to replace himself in my life. He was planning to discard me, to carve me up for parts like I was nothing more than a collection of assets.

I remembered all the times he'd caressed my face and told me he loved my eyes. "They're so clear, Farah," he used to say. "Like looking into a clear sky." He wasn't admiring me. He was shopping.

All the sacrifices I had made for him flashed through my mind. I gave up my dream of being a painter because he said the smell of turpentine gave him a headache. I changed my entire wardrobe because he preferred a more subdued, classic style. I cut off friends he deemed too loud or unsophisticated. I had molded myself into the perfect woman for him, erasing parts of myself until I was just a reflection of his desires.

And for what? To become an organ donor for his secret wife.

Suddenly, Brandon's head snapped toward the door. "Who's there?"

My heart stopped. I held my breath, pressing myself flat against the wall.

He stood up and walked toward the door. I could see his shadow growing larger, stretching across the floor. For a terrifying second, I thought he would find me. But he only glanced out, his gaze passing right over my hiding spot in the dimly lit hallway, and then he shut the door firmly.

I heard the lock click into place.

Through the wood, I could hear Danial's voice, now clear and in the room with them. "Everything going according to plan?"

"Perfectly," Brandon replied. "She suspects nothing."

He picked Caryl up in his arms, cradling her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and carried her deeper into the suite, away from the door.

My legs finally gave out. I slid down the wall, my body shaking uncontrollably.

Just then, my phone buzzed in my hand. The caller ID read "Brandon."

My finger trembled as I answered.

"Hey, baby," the cheerful, gravelly voice of his twin, Danial, filled my ear. "Just calling to say goodnight. I miss you."

My stomach churned with disgust.

"Brandon," I whispered, my voice cracked and raw with unshed tears. "We're over."

"What was that, honey?" he asked. A gust of wind howled outside the villa, and he must not have heard me over the noise. "I can't hear you. I'll see you tomorrow, okay? Love you."

He hung up.

The finality of it hit me like a physical blow. He didn't even hear me. My declaration of freedom, my final, desperate attempt to reclaim a piece of myself, was lost to the wind.

I sat there, on the cold floor of a hotel I wasn't supposed to be in, and I finally let the tears fall. I had given this man my heart, my soul, my entire world. And he had taken it all, planning to leave me with nothing but an empty grave.

Well, he was wrong.

I wiped my tears with the back of my hand. My love wasn't a gift to be discarded. It was a part of me. And I was taking it back.

My phone buzzed again. Another message from the anonymous number.

It wasn't a warning this time. It was an offer.

"He's not the only one with options. So are you. Interested in a new arrangement?"