Caught In The Game Of The Throne Dailymotion

For three years, I was married to a lie. The man I loved, the man whose name I carried, wasn't my husband. He was his identical twin brother.

The truth shattered my perfect life on our anniversary. My real husband, Elliot, had swapped places with his volatile twin, Killian, all so he could be with another woman without the mess of a divorce.

I was just a placeholder in their cruel game. Elliot stood by as his lover burned my hand, while Killian wore his face, whispering promises he never meant.

But the final blow came when I found Killian's phone. In a group chat, he called me a "prize" he'd won from his brother, promising his friends they could have me once he was bored.

That's when my heartbreak turned to ice. I filed for divorce, took everything the pre-nup promised, and fled to London. I thought I was free, but now they've followed me, determined to reclaim their favorite toy.

Chapter 1

Claire Costa POV:

For three years, I was married to a lie. The man I' d slept beside, the man whose name I carried, the man I loved with every fractured piece of my soul, wasn't my husband. He was his twin brother.

I had known the Callahan twins, Elliot and Killian, since we were children. They were the princes of a New York financial empire, identical in their sharp jawlines and startling green eyes, yet polar opposites in every other way.

Elliot Callahan was the golden boy. Polished, sophisticated, and gentle. He was the heir apparent, the man who walked into a room and commanded it with a quiet, assured grace. He was warm sunlight on a spring morning.

Killian Callahan was the black sheep. Rebellious, volatile, and fiercely possessive. He was the storm cloud that lingered on the horizon, threatening to break at any moment. His eyes didn't hold warmth; they burned with an intensity that had always terrified me.

They had circled me my entire life, their rivalry a constant, unspoken hum in the background. Killian' s obsession was overt, a suffocating presence I constantly tried to escape. Elliot' s affection was a safe harbor, a gentle hand that always pulled me back from the edge.

So, when it came time to choose, the choice was easy. I chose Elliot. I chose the sun. I became Mrs. Claire Callahan, and for three years, I believed I had the perfect life.

Until tonight.

Our third anniversary. The scent of champagne and roses filled our penthouse apartment, a glittering jewel atop the Callahan tower. Elliot-my Elliot-had his arms wrapped around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder as we swayed to the soft melody playing in the living room.

His lips were warm against my ear, his breath a familiar, comforting caress. "Happy anniversary, my love," he murmured.

I turned in his arms, my hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fine fabric of his shirt. "Happy anniversary, Elliot."

He smiled, that gentle, perfect smile that had first captured my heart. But as he leaned in, his gaze held an intoxicating fire I usually only saw in moments of unguarded passion. His lips met mine, not with the usual tender pressure, but with a devouring hunger that stole the air from my lungs.

It was thrilling. It was different.

His hand slid from my waist, down the curve of my hip, his fingers tracing patterns that sent shivers down my spine. The kiss deepened, becoming a raw, desperate claiming. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, his chest heaving.

He whispered two words, a husky, possessive rumble against my skin.

"Sister-in-law."

The music screeched to a halt in my mind. The warmth in my veins turned to ice. I pulled back, my entire body rigid. The man in front of me, the man whose kiss was still imprinted on my lips, was smiling, but it wasn't Elliot's smile. It was a predator's grin. Triumphant. Feral.

"What did you just say?" My voice was a thin, reedy thing.

He blinked, the feral glint in his eyes vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. He smoothed his expression back into the familiar, gentle mask of my husband. "What's wrong, Claire? Did I say something?"

My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic, trapped bird. "You called me… you called me sister-in-law."

He chuckled, a low, easy sound that was meant to be reassuring but only amplified the screeching alarm in my head. He reached for me, but I flinched away. "You must have misheard me, darling. I said 'my love'." His movements were smooth, his voice patient, but the lie hung in the air between us, thick and suffocating.