Chapter 1: The Great Pretender

He broke me first. Shattered me into pieces I thought I’d never put back together. But now, I’m standing at the ruins of the life he tried to destroy, and this time, I’m the one in control.

Duke Trayson was once the man I feared most—the ruthless businessman who thought he could own me. He took everything from me, left scars too deep to heal, and yet, fate had a twisted way of bringing us back together. This time, I’m not the helpless woman he once tormented. I’ve rebuilt myself, piece by piece, and now, I hold the power to ruin him.

But revenge isn’t as simple as I imagined. With secrets unraveling, betrayals cutting deeper than any wound, and a child caught in the crossfire, I start to wonder—can I truly escape him? Or have I become part of the very darkness I once swore to destroy?

This is my story. A war of power, a game of survival, and a battle between love and hate. He may have broken me first, but I will be the one to end him.

--

Pain exploded across my back as I slammed onto the cold marble floor. The impact rattled through my spine, a sharp sting spreading through my body like wildfire. My vision blurred, the chandelier above me spinning in dizzying circles. A strangled whimper escaped my lips as I forced myself to breathe through the pain.

I had barely registered what had happened when I heard the sound of high-pitched, exaggerated sobs from the top of the staircase.

That pesky one.

I pushed myself up, gritting my teeth against the ache. My gaze snapped upward, and there he was—Lukas Trayson.

The eight-year-old menace stood at the top of the stairs, sniffling dramatically, his small fists rubbing at his tearless eyes. He looked innocent, but I knew better. That kid was a walking disaster, and judging by the smug flicker in his gaze before it quickly vanished, I knew this was his doing.

"You little rascal," I hissed under my breath, my nails digging into the cold floor as I steadied myself.

Lukas exhaled sharply, his small mouth parting with exaggerated betrayal. And then—like the manipulative little brat, he was—he let out a deafening wail.

“Daaaaddyyyy!” His cries echoed through the mansion, his voice trembling as he pointed a chubby little finger at me. "Mommy cursed at me!"

My stomach dropped.

Heavy footsteps pounded down the hall.

Duke Trayson.

Lukas' father.

My soon-to-be husband.

The man I was deceiving.

I barely had time to school my expression before Duke appeared, his towering frame filling the doorway. His piercing blue eyes darted between me and Lukas, his brows furrowing in suspicion.

“What’s going on?” His voice was deep, laced with authority.

Lukas hiccupped dramatically. "She—she got mad at me, Daddy! She called me bad words!"

Lying little brat!

I felt my pulse pound in my temples as I swallowed down my frustration, slipping into character.

Soft. Gentle. Demure.

Just like Britney.

I lowered my gaze, biting my lip like a guilty little lamb. "It's nothing, Duke," I murmured, my voice small and fragile. "Lukas was playing a prank… I just got startled. I—I didn’t mean to scare him."

Lukas sniffled, selling his performance.

Duke exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face. "Lukas, go to your room."

Lukas pouted, stomping his little feet as he turned and disappeared down the hall.

I waited until he was gone before releasing the breath I had been holding. My body tensed as Duke’s eyes landed on me again.

His gaze searched mine, scanning my face as if he were trying to decipher a puzzle.

I forced a soft smile. "It really was just a misunderstanding."

A long beat of silence.

And then, finally, Duke sighed. "Be more careful next time."

I nodded, my heart still hammering as he turned and walked away.

It wasn’t the first time I had to lie my way out of a situation like this.

And it sure as heck wouldn’t be the last.

Because I wasn’t Britney Arkinson.

I was Mia. Her twin sister.

And I was living her life.

Britney Arkinson should have been standing here. She should have been the one preparing to marry Duke, smiling at socialites, playing the perfect stepmother.

But Britney was in a coma.

She had been for months, hidden away in a private hospital under our father’s care. And me? I was the replacement.

At first, I fought against it.

I wasn’t like her. Britney was delicate, graceful, obedient. I was wild, reckless, untamed. A woman like me had no place in Duke Trayson’s world.

But my father had made it clear.

"You have to keep pretending, Mia."

After a few days, I had stormed into Britney’s hospital room the moment I got the text.

Come to the hospital. There’s good news… and bad news.

When I saw her awake, her frail body propped against crisp white pillows, my heart soared.

Finally. Finally, I could stop this nightmare.

But then, my father had pulled me aside, his expression unreadable.

“She doesn’t remember anything,” he said, his voice cold and firm.

My blood ran cold. "What?!"

“She has amnesia.”

I took a staggering step back. "No. No way."

"The wedding is in two weeks," he continued, his gaze pinning me in place. "Duke Trayson is the only thing keeping us from bankruptcy. If this marriage doesn’t happen, we lose everything."

I wanted to scream.

To run.

To burn everything to the ground.

But the look in his eyes told me I had no choice.

And now, here I was.

Standing in a grand cathedral, drowning in lace and pearls, walking down an aisle toward a man who thought I was someone else.

The scent of fresh roses filled the air, thick and suffocating. Hundreds of eyes were on me, watching, waiting.

Duke stood at the altar, his broad shoulders rigid, his icy blue gaze locked onto mine.

He looked… perfect. Too perfect.

And I hated that my heart reacted to him.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I wasn’t supposed to be here.

The priest’s voice drifted through the cathedral, but I barely heard it over the roaring in my ears.

This was a mistake.

A terrible, irreversible mistake.

But there was no turning back.

And then, the words that sealed my fate fell from the priest’s lips.

"You may now kiss the bride."

My breath hitched.

Duke turned to me, his expression softening.

His hands reached out.

This was it.

I had lied my way to this moment.

And now… now I had to kiss him.

Loud shouts erupted from outside the church. My eyes widened as muffled chaos stirred beyond the grand doors.

A rally.

A PROTEST.

On my wedding day.

But why?

And then—just as Duke’s lips brushed against mine

A loud crack rang through the air.

Chapter 2: The Wedding That Shouldn’t Have Happened

I barely had time to react before Duke’s lips crashed against mine.

My breath caught in my throat as his firm grip settled on my body, pulling me closer. His lips were warm, demanding, yet controlled, as if he were claiming what was already his. My entire body tensed, my hands hovering midair, unsure whether to push him away or play my part.

I chose the latter.

Slowly, I placed my hands on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath my trembling fingers. The heat from his body seeped through his crisp suit, making my skin prickle. The cheers from the crowd grew louder, their applause ringing in my ears, drowning out the frantic thoughts racing through my mind.

This was it.

I had sealed my fate.

Just as Duke pulled away, a loud commotion erupted outside the church doors. My heart lurched. The muffled sound of angry shouts grew louder, overlapping with the excited murmurs of the guests. I turned my head instinctively, trying to see what was happening beyond the stained-glass windows.

Then, a crack rang out.

A deafening crack that made the chandeliers tremble.

Screams followed, panicked and urgent. Guests started shifting uneasily in their seats, some already standing, whispering in alarm.

I barely had time to process what was happening before my feet moved on their own. I stepped away from Duke, my pulse thundering as I made my way toward the entrance, but before I could take another step, a firm grip closed around my wrist.

Duke.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice low, filled with authority.

I turned to him, my pulse hammering against my ribs. "Someone just fired a weapon, Duke. I need to—"

“It’s dangerous,” he cut me off. “Stay here.”

His sharp blue eyes locked onto mine, his expression unreadable. He didn’t look afraid. He didn’t even look surprised.

That sent a chill down my spine.

Before I could demand an explanation, my father appeared beside us, his face dark with something unreadable. He barely acknowledged Duke before gripping my arm and pulling me aside, leading me toward the shadowed corner of the church.

“We need to talk,” he muttered under his breath.

I barely kept up with his pace. “Dad, what is going on?”

He exhaled sharply, glancing toward the chaos outside before looking back at me. "Those people outside… they're not just protesters, Mi— Britney. They're grieving families. Farmers."

I frowned. "Farmers?"

"Their loved ones were killed," he said quietly. "And word on the streets is that Duke Trayson is responsible."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“What?”

My father didn’t respond. Instead, he let his words hang between us, heavy and suffocating.

Duke. A murderer.

It didn’t make sense.

I turned my head slowly, my gaze landing on Duke, who was still standing near the altar, watching me with a gaze that was impossible to decipher. His posture remained relaxed, unaffected by the uproar outside.

As if this was nothing new.

As if he had expected this.

A sick feeling twisted in my stomach.

Before I could press for more answers, the doors of the church shook violently as something slammed against them from the outside. Guests froze in shock, some already rushing toward the exits. Security guards shouted orders, weapons at the ready as they pushed back against the crowd.

"We need to leave," my father said urgently.

I barely turned to face him before another familiar hand wrapped around my wrist.

Duke.

"We're going to the rooftop," he said simply.

I stared at him, my mind still reeling. "Duke, are you even going to explain what's happening? Why are people saying you—"

"It doesn't matter right now." His grip tightened slightly. "You're my wife now. That means your safety comes first."

I didn’t get the chance to argue.

Duke was already pulling me toward a hidden staircase behind the altar. My father followed closely behind, his expression grim. The steps were steep, spiraling higher and higher, and my wedding dress made it even harder to move.

By the time we reached the rooftop, my legs were burning, my breath coming in shallow bursts. But all of that disappeared when I saw the helicopter.

Its blades were already spinning, slicing through the cold night air. Several of Duke’s men were stationed nearby, their hands resting over their weapons, their gazes sharp as they scanned the perimeter.

Duke wasted no time guiding me toward the open door. "Get in."

I hesitated.

"Britney." His voice was firm. "Now."

I swallowed hard before stepping inside, settling onto the leather seat beside my father. Duke climbed in after me, nodding toward the pilot. Within seconds, the helicopter lifted off, the ground below shrinking as we soared into the sky.

Through the window, I could see the mob gathered outside the church, their voices drowned beneath the roar of the blades. Some were crying. Some were furious. But all of them had one thing in common.

They wanted Duke Trayson to pay for something.

And I needed to find out what.

Days passed, and my new life as Mrs. Trayson felt like a carefully rehearsed lie.

Duke was gone most of the time, locked in meetings or vanishing for hours without a word. When we did cross paths, his gaze always lingered on me a second too long, as if he was waiting for something.

But what?

I forced myself to play the role of the perfect wife. The perfect mother.

Every night, I sat beside Lukas’ bed, reading bedtime stories in the same soft tone Britney used. Every morning, I smiled over breakfast, watching the little boy eat while Duke watched me.

But beneath my mask, I was investigating.

I reached out to Fay, my personal assistant—the only person who will find out the truth.

"Find out everything you can about Duke," I whispered into my phone one evening, locked inside the bathroom. "I don’t care how dangerous it is. Just do it."

Fay hesitated. "Mia, are you sure?"

"I need answers." My grip tightened around the phone.

If I was going to be trapped in this marriage, I needed to know who I was married to.

But before I could get those answers, everything changed.

One reckless, heated night shattered the fragile walls I had built around myself.

Duke came home late, his tie loosened, his sleeves rolled up. His sharp blue gaze locked onto mine as he entered our dimly lit bedroom.

Something about him felt different that night.

More intense. More dangerous.

I should have left.

I should have walked away.

But I didn’t.

His fingers brushed against my skin, sending a shiver down my spine. His hands found my body, pulling me against him, his breath warm against my ear.

"You’re my wife now," he murmured. "Start acting like it."

I let him kiss me.

And for the first time, I kissed him back.

The next morning, my body ached in ways I never thought possible.

But something else had changed.

The nausea came first.

Then the dizziness.

At first, I thought it was just stress.

But when the symptoms didn’t go away, I knew.

I drove myself to the doctor, sitting in a cold, sterile room as they ran the tests.

And when the doctor finally spoke, my world crumbled.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Trayson. You’re pregnant."

I stared at her, my mind blank.

Pregnant.

With Duke’s child.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

I stumbled out of the clinic, my breath coming in short bursts. My hands trembled as I grabbed my phone and called my father.

"I need to end the pregnancy," I whispered the second he picked up.

Silence. Then, his cold voice.

"That’s not an option, Mia."

Tears burned in my eyes. "Dad, I can’t—"

"You have to. Britney still has amnesia. The marriage needs to hold. And this child will make it stronger."

The line went dead.

I stood there, the weight of my fate crushing me.

I had lied my way into this marriage.

Now, I was trapped by it.

Chapter 3: The Price of Deception

The weight of the doctor’s words clung to me like a suffocating fog.

Pregnant.

With Duke Trayson’s child.

My stomach twisted violently as I stumbled out of the clinic, my legs unsteady beneath me. The cold evening air did little to cool the heat rising in my chest, my fingers trembling as I reached for my phone. The moment my father answered, my voice came out strained, barely above a whisper.

"I need to terminate the pregnancy."

Silence.

A long, suffocating silence that made my throat tighten.

Then, my father spoke, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"That’s not an option, Mia."

I gripped the phone tighter. "Dad, I can’t—"

"You will," he interrupted, his tone final. "Britney still has amnesia. The marriage needs to hold. And this child will make it stronger."

The line went dead.

I stood there, my entire body numb.

There was no way out.

For weeks, I buried the truth deep inside me, forcing myself to continue the charade. Every morning, I smiled at Duke over breakfast, ignoring the way his eyes studied me a little too closely. Every night, I tucked Lukas into bed, pretending I was his mother, pretending that my own life hadn’t spiraled into something unrecognizable.

But in the silence of my room, when the world was still and I was left alone with my thoughts, the panic crept in.

I was carrying the child of a man I barely knew.

A man who might be a murderer.

And if I wasn’t careful, he would find out that I wasn’t Britney.

I needed a plan.

The only person I could trust was Fay.

One evening, as the mansion lay in eerie silence, I locked myself in the bathroom and dialed her number.

"Mia?" Fay’s voice was hushed, cautious.

"I need you to dig deeper," I whispered, my fingers clutching the edge of the sink. "Find out everything you can about Duke Trayson. Every deal, every enemy, every secret. I need to know what I married into."

Fay hesitated. "Mia, are you sure? You’re already playing with fire."

"I don’t have a choice," I murmured. "I need to know the truth."

A heavy sigh. Then, "I’ll do it."

As I ended the call, a voice from behind sent a sharp jolt through my spine.

"You’re not my real mommy."

My breath caught.

I turned slowly, my heart pounding against my ribcage.

Lukas stood by the doorway, his small frame barely illuminated by the dim light of the hallway. His face was unreadable, but his eyes—those wide, knowing eyes—bore into mine like he had unraveled my entire existence.

A shaky smile forced its way onto my lips. "Lukas, what are you talking about?"

He frowned, his little hands curling into fists. "Mommy never gives me milk. Because I’m allergic."

Cold dread slithered down my spine.

I had given him a glass of milk that morning.

I took a careful step forward, my voice soft. "I—I forgot, sweetheart. It won’t happen again."

But Lukas only took a step back, his lip trembling. Without another word, he turned and ran down the hallway.

Straight to Duke.

My pulse skyrocketed as I chased after him, my bare feet hitting the cold floor. "Lukas, wait!"

But it was too late.

Lukas threw open the door to Duke’s study, his voice shrill. "Daddy! Mommy gave me milk!"

Duke, who had been sitting at his desk, immediately stood, his sharp blue eyes snapping to me. His expression darkened, unreadable.

"What?" His voice was dangerously low.

I opened my mouth, struggling to find the right words. "Duke, I—"

"Come here," he ordered.

My legs felt heavy as I stepped forward, my hands clammy. The air in the room had shifted, thick with something suffocating.

"Why did you give him milk?!" Duke asked, his tone eerily calm.

I swallowed hard. "I wasn’t thinking. It slipped my mind."

His gaze didn’t waver. "Slipped your mind?"

The way he said it sent chills down my spine.

"You’re his mother, Britney." His voice dropped lower, his tone razor-sharp. "You don’t forget something like that."

His words coiled around me like a snake.

I forced myself to meet his gaze. "I made a mistake, Duke."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, in one swift motion, he grabbed my wrist, yanking me closer. His grip was tight, his fingers digging into my skin.

"You can fool everyone else," he murmured, his breath hot against my cheek. "But you will never fool me."

My stomach twisted.

His grip tightened. "If I ever find out that you’re lying to me, Britney…" He leaned closer, his lips brushing against my ear. "I will kill you."

A blinding fury erupted inside me.

Without thinking, my free hand flew up, slapping him hard across the face.

The sound echoed through the room.

Duke’s head tilted slightly from the impact.

When he looked back at me, his gaze was unreadable.

Then, to my shock, he smiled.

It wasn’t a smile of amusement. It was something darker. Something that made the hairs on my arms rise.

He released my wrist and stepped back, his smirk lingering as he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, my heart racing.

For weeks, I felt his eyes on me. Watching. Waiting. Testing me.

But I refused to break.

Until one night, everything fell apart.

My phone rang in the dead of night, the screen flashing with Fay’s name.

I answered immediately, my voice hushed. "Fay, what is it?"

"Mia," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I found something."

A chill swept over me. "What?"

Fay hesitated. Then, "Duke Trayson is part of a mafia group."

I felt my breath leave my body.

"Mafia?"

"They don’t just kill random people," she continued. "They target powerful figures. People who threaten them."

My hands turned ice cold.

Fay’s voice dropped even lower. "And Mia… your father is next on their list."

The phone nearly slipped from my grip.

Before I could process what she had just said, I felt it.

The unmistakable sensation of cold metal pressing against my temple.

My entire body froze.

A deep, steady voice whispered from behind me.

"Why are you investigating me, Britney?"

Duke.

The firearm in his hand was pressed firmly against the side of my head.

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice to remain steady. "Duke, I don’t—"

"Don’t lie to me." His voice was eerily calm. "Who are you talking to?"

My heart pounded against my ribs.

The click of the firearm’s safety disengaging sent a sickening wave of dread through me.

"Tell me the truth," Duke murmured, his lips inches from my ear. "Right now."

Seconds stretched into eternity.

Then, in a desperate move, I blurted out the only thing that could save me.

"I’m pregnant."

Everything stopped.

Duke’s grip loosened. His breath hitched.

Slowly, I turned to face him, my pulse hammering. "I’m pregnant, Duke. How could I not be Britney?"

Silence.

Then, without warning, he grabbed me.

Before I could react, his arms wrapped around me in a crushing embrace.

For a brief moment, I thought I had won.

But then—

Something hard slammed against the side of my head.

Pain exploded.

The world spun violently.

I collapsed.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

When I woke up, my wrists were bound.

The air was damp. Cold. The scent of mold filled my nose.

I was in a basement!

And then, from the speaker mounted in the corner, Duke’s voice filled the room.

His tone was calm. Controlled.

"Good thing I found out that my lovely wife has a twin."

I drew in a sharp breath.

No. No, no, no—

"You should’ve told me that she has amnesia."

He knew.

He finally knew.