He Chose My Stepsister, So I Chose His Brother

Isabella’s POV

The day I buried my father, my husband didn’t show up for the funeral.

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Bianca — my stepsister, who also hadn’t come.

I opened it. The screen showed a photo of Marcus, my husband, kissing her stomach tenderly. It was tagged: Guess who’s finally going to be a father.

My hands shook. No. It couldn’t be real.

My vision blurred with tears as I stared hard at the picture, praying with everything in me that it was fake, that it was some sort of sick joke.

But it wasn't. The next picture she sent was enough to shatter my world.

It was a picture of Bianca taking a mirror selfie in the master's bedroom I shared with Marcus. She was wearing my robe, while Marcus was asleep in the background on the master's bed.

I couldn’t breathe. So it was true.

My husband had impregnated my stepsister.

Tears ran down my face as I sobbed. My chest hurt from the pain of the betrayal. My husband. My stepsister.

My knees gave out, and I collapsed in front of my father’s grave.

The dirt was still fresh. My tears soaked into it as I broke down completely.

It felt like my heart was being torn from my chest as I sobbed hard.

I should have known, I had seen how close they had been getting, the secret glances and conversations, but I had refused to believe that I could ever be betrayed by the two people I trusted the most.

I felt so betrayed and humiliated.

Then my phone buzzed again. It was Marcus this time

-I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the funeral. A very important issue came up. We need to talk.-

I stared at the screen, the tears flowing freely now. I already knew what he wanted.

That night, Marcus arrived with Bianca and her bags.

“Bianca needs a place to stay,” he said softly, as if gentleness could erase what he had done. “With her pregnancy, it’s not safe for her to be alone.”

Bianca smiled a saccharine, mocking smile. “I’m sorry, Isabella. I begged Marcus to wait… but the baby’s health comes first. I hope you understand, I’m sorry for intruding on the day of our father’s funeral”

I didn't say anything, I just stared blankly at the floor as I listened to the both of them.

Marcus pressed on, “Bianca is your sister, Isabella, your own flesh and blood. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to her, would you?”

I ignored him, fighting back my tears. I wanted to scream, to throw something, to make him hurt the way I was hurting. But I just stared at the floor, numb and broken.

He sighed. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened between us. But I love you. Only you.”

His words cut deeper than any knife.

“What happened with Bianca was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”

I stared. “She’s pregnant. And you say this is a mistake?”

He nodded. “Yes. And the best part is that we made an agreement. When she gives birth, the baby will be yours. Since you can’t have children, Bella.”

Those words stabbed me: You can’t have children.

“You always wanted a baby,” he said, trying to soften it. “This is the universe fixing things for us.”

I glared at him with disbelief as fury burned with me. “Are you serious? You slept with my step sister and you expect me to just accept this?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Don’t be dramatic. I know it was wrong. But now, we can finally have a child. I can be a father.”

Bianca began to fake sob, “Oh no, Marcus. Look at what I’ve done. I’m causing trouble between you two.”

“Oh, stop your act!” I snapped.

She flinched, sobbing harder. “I should go.”

Marcus turned to me, his eyes flashed with anger. “Look at what you’re causing. I don’t want Bianca stressed during her pregnancy. Why do you have to be so bitter? No wonder you’re barren!”

His cruel words hit me hard. I could barely breathe.

He caught the hurt on my face and tried to soften it, “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want the baby to be harmed.”

I rose slowly, my voice shook, but it was firm. “Marcus, I want a divorce.”

His face turned pale. “What?”

Bianca smirked behind him, but I didn’t care.

“I said, I want a divorce.”

“Isabella, no. We’re family,” Bianca said, voice dripping with fake sympathy.

Marcus stared at me, disbelief clear. “You don’t mean it.”

“I do.”

He scoffed. “Because of this? Because I made a mistake?”

“A mistake?” I laughed bitterly. “You call cheating on me with my step sister a mistake?”

He stepped closer, cold now. “You always overreact. That’s why I stopped talking to you. Everything turns into drama.”

I clenched my fists, rage burning. “You got her pregnant, moved her into our house on the day my father died, and I’m overreacting?”

Marcus scoffed at me. “You’re lucky anyone would want you, considering you’re barren.”

Bianca sobbed fake tears. “Please, Marcus. Don’t fight because of me.”

“Then leave,” I snapped at her.

Marcus growled, pointing at me. “Watch your mouth. She’s pregnant. You have no right to stress her.”

“She has no right to be here,” I said coldly.

His eyes narrowed, venom sharp. “I see why you can’t have a child. Your heart’s dark and evil.”

My heart shattered, but I refused to break.

“I’m done with you, Marcus. Goodbye.”

“Oh, please,” he sneered. “You think you can walk away? You have nothing. No money, no children, no one.”

His words stabbed, but I kept moving toward the stairs.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he barked.

“To pack.”

“You’re not leaving. You’re still my wife.”

“Not for long. I’ll send divorce papers.”

He stepped forward, voice calm but deadly. “I am Marcus Pierce. The day you signed those papers, you belonged to me. If you walk out, I’ll find you. I’ll drag you back. I’ll burn your precious orphanage to the ground.”

My lips trembled. The orphanage was the last tie to my father. It was everything I had left.

“Why are you doing this?” I whispered through tears.

“You brought this on yourself,” Marcus said, jaw clenched.

I broke down again. “You won’t even let me grieve for my father. You humiliate me, bring her here, and now you won’t let me go? What more do you want?”

His eyes softened, voice almost gentle. “Isabella, Bianca’s baby will be ours. Why can’t you be happy?”

Something inside me shifted. I wiped my tears. Bianca’s eyes gleamed with triumph. That was the nail that sealed the coffin shut.

Marcus wanted to ruin me, but I would ruin him first.

“I overreacted,” I said quietly. “I’ll stay… for now. Give me time.”

He smiled and kissed my forehead.

That night, I cried my heart out. I lay curled on the cold floor of the guest room sobbing quietly, while Marcus tended to my stepsister in the master bedroom.

My chest ached. The tears kept falling. I grieved for my father, I grieved for my ruined marriage, and I grieved for myself.

And when there were no more tears left to cry, I picked up the phone, and I called the one person who hated Marcus more than I did.

The one person that Marcus feared the most. His older brother, Alexander Pierce.