He Killed My Babies, So I Married His Brother

Percival picked up after one ring. His voice was smooth, but beneath it was something that made the air feel heavy.

“Liora,” he said, slow and deliberate, “I don’t take calls from ghosts. What do you want?”

The sound of him sent a shiver down my spine. Percival Celestino was not just Marshall’s older half-brother. He was the head of the Circolo Nero, an old and dangerous wine-smuggling syndicate disguised as a luxury empire. In his world, people didn’t just die; they disappeared so cleanly it was as if they had never been born.

“I want to destroy Marshall,” I said. “Completely. I want him ruined, and I can’t do it alone.”

A pause. Long enough for me to imagine him deciding whether my life was worth the next breath I took. Then, a low chuckle… not amused, but approving.

“I’ve been waiting for this call,” he said. “Speak.”

I told him everything. Marshall cheating with Daphne. Moving her into our home on the day I buried my parents. His threats to burn down the vineyard my family had built from the soil up. Every insult. Every humiliation.

Percival didn’t interrupt. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a whisper. “When do you want him gone?”

“Four days.”

“Good,” he said. “I can bury a man in less time.”

For the first time in weeks, I felt something close to hope.

“I’ll handle it,” Percival continued, “But there’s a price.”

“What is it?”

“MARRY ME.”

My breath caught. “What?”

“Do it, and you’re untouchable. No one lays a hand on what’s mine. Not even Celestinos. Especially not Marshall.”

He then hung up without a goodbye.

That night, I barely slept. His voice stayed in my head… cold, certain, lethal. Marrying Percival would mean stepping into a world of quiet executions and smiling assassins, where wine cellars doubled as graves and power was bought in blood.

But with him… Marshall would never touch me again.

**

And then the next morning, my world tilted again.

I sat in the clinic’s waiting room, holding the paper the nurse had given me.

Positive.

Not just one heartbeat. Two.

I was pregnant with twins.

A bitter laugh slipped out as tears blurred my vision. Six years ago, the doctors told me I could never have children after the accident Marshall caused the night he’d been driving drunk, furious after a business deal went wrong. We’d crashed into a roadside barrier, the impact crushing my lower abdomen. While I lay in the hospital, barely conscious, he’d whispered: “I didn’t mean it… and then disappeared for days. The doctors told me the damage was permanent. I had believed them. I had accepted the cruel names. Barren. Broken. Useless.

And now this.

My phone buzzed. A message from Percival.

Three days. Decide.

Three days. I could be free in three days… but what about the babies? Could I bring them into this life? A world of betrayal, lies, and men like Marshall? Or worse, men like Percival?

I left the clinic in a daze and drove back home.

The front door opened and closed behind me.

“Well, well. Look at you. You look like you’ve been hit by a truck.”

I didn’t even glance up from the couch. Then the sound of a car engine outside made my chest tighten. Marshall was home. I stood to leave before he could see me, but Daphne blocked my way.

“Don’t run off. Stay and watch your husband kiss me hello,” she mocked.

But I pushed past her and went to the guest room. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely turn the lock.

It didn’t matter.

The door slammed open with a deafening crash. I spun around, startled.

Before I could get a word out, Marshall’s hand came across my face. The slap hit me so hard my ears rang. The floor met me before I could even breathe… My vision went black for a moment, and the copper taste of blood filled my mouth.

I just stayed there. Frozen.

Why?

Marshall had never laid a hand on me before.

“W-what the hell was that?” My voice cracked. “Why would you do that?”

Marshall’s glare didn’t waver. “How dare you laid your hands on Daphne! She’s carrying my child for fuck sake, Liora. Is that what you’ve become now?”

My stomach knotted. “What? I never touched her.”

Daphne stepped forward like she’d been waiting for her cue. “I came in to check on her. I brought tea, Marshall. I was trying to be kind. But she—” She sucked in a shaky breath. “She slapped me and told me I should’ve died instead of our parents. That the world would’ve been better without me. She said she hated my guts and…” Her eyes darted to me, brimming with crocodile tears. “…and that she was planning to kill me.”

My pulse spiked. “That’s a lie—”

“She even grabbed a knife from the table,” Daphne pushed on, ignoring me. “She pointed it at me, Marshall. Said she wanted to watch the light leave my eyes. I thought she was going to stab me right there.”