Kidnapping the Billionaire's Heir

Days passed, but it felt like years.

I was trapped inside the grand bedroom, surrounded by luxury yet drowning in despair. The only people I saw were unfamiliar doctors and silent maids who came only to check my health and bring me meals. They weren’t ignoring me, but they might as well have been. Whenever I asked where I was or who got me pregnant, they only exchanged unreadable glances before walking out of the room without a word.

It was maddening.

The silence pressed down on me like a suffocating fog. I had no idea what had happened to my parents—if they were even looking for me or if they had already replaced me with another pawn. My existence felt like a cruel joke, and every day, the unanswered questions gnawed at me like a disease.

I was starting to lose my mind.

A full month passed before something changed.

That morning, I was sitting on the edge of my bed, staring at my reflection in the vanity mirror, when the door suddenly swung open. Instead of the usual doctors or maids, a team of designers flooded in, their arms filled with fabrics, makeup kits, and accessories.

"What’s going on? I-I'm pregnant?" I asked, standing up in alarm.

“Yes, four months."

I gulped. That means, I was in a comma for four freaking months? Because for God's sake! I knew I wasn't pregnant before.

I never loved another man after I broke up with my first boyfriend.

I raised another questions— CRUCIAL ones.

They didn’t answer. Instead, they started working on me—fixing my hair, applying makeup, dressing me in an elegant silk gown that hugged my body perfectly despite my growing belly. I wanted to fight them off, to demand answers, but desperation clawed at my soul. Maybe this was my chance to finally learn the truth.

So, I let them.

Once I was fully prepared, one of them pulled out a silk blindfold. Before I could protest, they slipped it over my eyes, plunging me into darkness.

I stiffened. "W-Where are you taking me?"

Again, no answer.

I was led out of the room, my heart pounding with every step. Cold air brushed against my skin, and after what felt like an eternity, the blindfold was removed.

I blinked against the dim lighting.

An underground fine-dining restaurant.

The space was breathtaking—chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, velvet drapes cascading down the walls, gold-trimmed furniture glowing under the candlelight. But something felt off.

The room was empty.

Not a single guest. Not a single waiter. Just… me.

The eerie silence sent a shiver down my spine.

Then, footsteps.

A man approached, holding a tray with a drink. My breath hitched the moment I saw his face. Dennis Pascual.

My old friend.

What is he doing here? Where is he working?

Shock hit me like a tidal wave. "Dennis?" My voice came out barely above a whisper.

He flashed a quick smile, but there was something in his eyes—something urgent. Before I could bombard him with questions, he subtly pressed a finger to his lips, signaling for me to stay silent.

Why?

The unease in my stomach worsened.

Before I could think, another set of footsteps echoed across the room. A man, dressed in a sharp black suit and wearing dark shades, walked toward me with an air of authority. He moved with precision, like a predator who knew he owned the room.

He sat across from me, removing his shades with deliberate slowness. His cold, piercing gaze locked onto mine.

"I assume you know who I am," he said, his voice smooth yet laced with danger.

I swallowed hard. Walter Geoffe Montero.

The enemy of W Beauty Cosmetics. He has his own pharmaceutical company but he was always the content of theories that he... is a damn drug lord.

Before anything else, DID HE FUCKING IMPREGNATE ME?

I had heard his name before. He was a powerful businessman—one of my parents’ fiercest rivals. Ruthless, cunning, and filthy rich.

And now, he had me.

The dinner was a blur.

Walter spoke in riddles, dancing around the truth while I tried to keep my fear at bay. I knew better than to trust him, but before I could gather more information, Dennis returned—this time with a bottle of wine in one hand.

Something about his stance was different.

Then, before I could react, he moved.

Fast.

In a blink, he drew a small blade from his sleeve and slashed Walter across the face.

Blood splattered against the pristine white tablecloth. Walter let out a guttural roar, clutching his cheek in agony.

Everything happened so fast.

Before Walter could press the button on his watch—most likely to call his guards—I grabbed the nearest chair and slammed it against his head. The impact sent him collapsing to the floor, unconscious.

Dennis grabbed my wrist. "We need to go. Now."

I didn’t hesitate.

Adrenaline fueled my every step as we sprinted through the underground corridors. Somehow, Dennis had full access to the facility—unlocking doors, disabling cameras, navigating the maze-like structure with terrifying ease.

Who exactly was he?

But I didn’t have time to question it. All I knew was that I needed to get out.

Days later, I stood in front of my family’s mansion.

Everything looked the same—the grand gates, the pristine gardens, the towering walls that once made me feel invincible. But as I stepped inside, something felt… wrong.

I was home. But it didn’t feel like mine anymore.

My parents were waiting in the grand living room. Their eyes darkened the moment they saw me and a few bodyguards rushed towards me only to stop me.

"W-Who are you? Why did you look—another impostor." my father said, his tone unreadable.

"After the bombing… I was kidnapped," I explained, my voice trembling. "I didn’t know where I was. I—"

"Lies."

The word was sharp, slicing through the air like a dagger. My mother’s eyes narrowed, her posture stiff.

I froze. They didn’t believe me.

They thought I was lying.

As if my suffering was fiction. As if the past month of my life had been nothing more than a fabricated story.

I opened my mouth to argue, but then—

I saw her.

Descending the grand staircase, moving with elegance and grace, was a woman.

A woman who looked exactly like me.

My breath caught in my throat. My vision blurred at the edges.

What… the hell…?

She stepped into the light, her lips curling into a soft smile.

And that’s when I realized—

She wasn’t just my lookalike.

She was me.

“I-I had a twin?" I whispered to myself.