He Killed My Babies, So I Married His Brother

He didn’t catch the meaning behind my words. He was too busy fussing over Daphne, completely blind to what I was really planning.

When we got to the car, Daphne was quick to reach for the front passenger door like she owned it. But Marshall grabbed her arm gently and stopped her.

“Hold on, Daphne,” he said, then turned to me with a small, hopeful smile. “Liora, maybe you should take the front seat.”

“No way. I get so dizzy sitting in the back.” Daphne pouted, throwing a little fit. “Our baby was making me feel awful lately, Marshall.”

I rolled my eyes.

Marshall looked stuck between us, clearly trying to figure out how to keep us both happy.

“It’s okay,” I said coldly. “Let her have the front.” Marshall started to protest, but I cut him off. “I said it’s fine. Let her sit up front. I don’t care.”

There was a heavy silence. Daphne beamed like she won, and Marshall frowned but didn’t argue.

I slid into the backseat, my whole body aching, but I said nothing. Leaning my head against the cold window, I stared outside like I wasn’t really there.

After a few minutes, Daphne began her usual game, hoping to get a reaction out of me.

She rested her hand on Marshall’s thigh, her fingers slowly tracing circles. I didn’t bother looking, but from the corner of my eye, I caught her glancing back at me with this smug little smirk.

Marshall stiffened immediately. “Daphne,” he muttered under his breath, moving her hand away.

“What?” she said, innocent as ever.

When he said nothing more, she tried again, this time moving her fingers higher.

“I said stop!” Marshall snapped, his voice sharper now.

She flinched and suddenly tears welled up in her eyes. She turned away and began quietly sobbing into her hands.

“Why are you yelling at me?” she whimpered, “I’m carrying child, Marshall. And you’re yelling at me?”

Marshall sighed, his expression softening as he ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry, alright? I didn’t mean to yell. Just... not when she’s here.”

He never said my name. Like I was invisible, like I didn’t exist back there.

Daphne sniffled, then leaned forward to rummage through the glove box. “Just looking for tissues,” she said quietly.

What she pulled out was definitely not tissues.

It was a small piece of lace bright red panties. She giggled, holding them up like a trophy.

“Oh, Marshall,” she said playfully. “Remember when we couldn’t make it to the hotel? You just pulled me into your lap right here in the car.”

“That’s enough,” Marshall said sharply without looking at her.

“Oh, relax,” Daphne rolled her eyes. “Liora gets it. Hormones make you crazy. Lucky you’re here to help.”

She slid her hand back onto Marshall’s thigh. This time, he didn’t move it away.

Marshall glanced in the rearview mirror and our eyes met for a split second. I looked away before he could see the storm inside me.

Once, that same glance could melt me.

I still remember the first time we met. It was at a charity dinner my parents were hosting… he’d been a last-minute guest, filling in for some investor who’d backed out. He’d stood there in his dark suit, tall, broad-shouldered, with that half-smile.

“Do you always stare at people this way?” he’d asked me, and I’d been too stunned to answer. Later that night, he walked me to my car and kissed me under the moon. Back then, he didn’t just look at me, he saw me.

For the first two years, he treated me like I was the only woman in the world. No matter how busy his work got, he always showed up at the vineyard for Friday night dinners, always made sure my glass was full, always asked if I’d eaten. Sometimes, we’d sneak away into the vines, laughing like teenagers.

Then Daphne came back.

She’d been abroad for “architecture school” a term she liked to toss around to make herself sound impressive. But the truth? She never finished a degree. Hated studying. Changed courses every semester like she was trying on clothes she’d never buy. Paris, Rome, Tokyo— she’d been everywhere except anywhere she was supposed to be.

When she finally came home, she brought chaos with her. At first, it was subtle. Little laughs at my expense. Innocent touches on Marshall’s arm during family dinners. And now, here we were… her hand on his thigh.

The man who once swore he’d never let anyone come between us was now sitting next to the only woman who ever had.

**

When I finally got to the vineyard, I didn’t say a word. I got out and walked past Marshall and Daphne without looking back.

The wrought-iron gates stood tall, the same as they had for decades. Familiar, yet heavy with memories. My parents had bought this land in the early 1980s, turning bare soil into rows of vines that fed generations. They were gone now, leaving this vineyard as the only piece of their lives I had left.

My chest tightened with the memory, but I pushed it down. I had business to handle.

Mr. Hernando, the estate manager, looked up from his ledger when I entered the main house. His eyes went wide at the sight of me, then softened with a warm smile.

“Miss Liora,” he said, standing up quickly. “Welcome back.”

“I need to talk to you,” I said, cutting straight to it.

We were wrapping up when a sharp, terrified scream ripped through the air from outside.

My heart stopped. Something was wrong.

I bolted toward the door, Mr. Hernando close to my heels.

As soon as I stepped outside, the acrid stench of smoke hit me like a punch.

Shouts came from the west fields.

I ran forward and froze, staring in horror at the flames devouring the vines, the very lifeblood of my parents’ legacy.