My Twin Sister Is Pregnant With My Husband’s Child

"You're a liar. A damn witch."

She turned her face away as if my words had wounded her deeply, playing the victim to perfection. But I caught it — the brief flash of triumph in her eyes before she hid it.

Dante's voice cut through the room, sharp and dangerous. "Get out of my sight before I completely lose my temper."

"You actually believe her?" My throat burned as I spoke, raw with disbelief.

He didn't hesitate. Not even for a second. "You've changed, Seraphina. Losing the baby back then shattered you. All that's left now is resentment."

A hollow laugh slipped out of me, harsh and broken. Blood trickled to my lip, warm and sticky. I brushed it away with the back of my hand. His gaze dropped to the red stain, and for the briefest moment, something like regret flickered across his face. In the hallway beyond the door, I could hear the soft shuffle of one of his soldiers repositioning, close enough to intervene if called. Always listening. Always there.

"Ser—" he began.

A soft whine sounded behind him.

"My head hurts…" Valentina murmured weakly. "She hit me so hard, Dante."

He turned to her instantly, pulling her into his arms as if I no longer existed. Over his shoulder, Valentina met my eyes, her mouth curving into the faintest, cruelest smile.

Three days.

I only had to endure three more days.

The next morning, I left the house before anyone noticed. The Valenti estate sat behind its walls in the early light, the guards at the gatehouse barely glancing at me as I passed. I was the Boss's wife. I could still leave. For now.

The air outside was crisp, but my chest felt unbearably heavy as I sat once again in the clinic's waiting room. Not a hospital. The Family's private clinic on Mulberry, the one that kept no records the Feds could subpoena. My hand rested over my stomach — still flat, still quiet — but I knew what was there. Two heartbeats. Two lives I never believed I'd be given.

When the nurse called my name, my legs felt unsteady as I followed her inside. The doctor looked up, surprise crossing his face.

"Mrs. Valenti," he said slowly. "I remember you."

I managed a small nod.

He skimmed my file, then met my eyes again. "Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?"

I stayed silent.

"Seraphina," he said gently, "this pregnancy is nothing short of a miracle. If you terminate it, there won't be another chance."

His words landed hard. I pressed my palm against my stomach. I remembered every night I cried myself to sleep, begging for just one miracle. Every forced smile when another capo's wife announced her pregnancy at Sunday dinner and the whole table erupted in congratulations while I sat there hollowed out. Every quiet moment of heartbreak. And now that the impossible had finally happened, I was moments away from throwing it away because of Dante. Because of his cruelty.

Something cracked inside my chest. Tears spilled down my face before I could stop them. My voice trembled, barely audible. "I'm… I'm keeping them."

The doctor's expression softened. "You're making the right decision."

When I stepped outside, the world felt lighter somehow. I wasn't free yet — but in three days, I would be. I would vanish with my children and build a new life far from this rot. Far from the Valenti name and everything it had cost me.

"Seraphina!"

I froze.

Turning slowly, I saw Dante walking toward me, his stride urgent. A black sedan idled at the curb behind him, one of his soldiers leaning against the driver's door with the practiced stillness of a man paid to wait.

Before I could move, his hand closed around my arm. "Thank God I found you," he said, gripping me so tightly I knew bruises would bloom later.

"What now?" I asked dully, exhaustion weighing down every word.

"It's Valentina," he said. "She's in the hospital. High fever all night — from stress, and from what you did to her." His stare was sharp, condemning. "This is on you."

A dry, bitter laugh escaped me. "I've told you a hundred times — I never touched her."

He ignored me. "She collapsed this morning. Her fever spiked. She's weak. The doctors say she needs a blood transfusion."

I frowned. "And why is that my problem?"

His jaw clenched. The signet ring on his pinky caught the light as his hand tightened. "You're her twin. You're a match. You're the only one who can save her."

"You expect my blood? After everything she's done?" My stomach twisted violently.

His grip tightened until pain shot up my arm. "This isn't about your feelings. This is about saving lives. You can wallow later. Right now, you're doing the right thing."

I tried to pull free, but he dragged me toward the parking lot. My heels scraped against the pavement. "There are other donors. Find someone else. I'm not doing this."

He stopped abruptly and turned to me, his voice turning icy. "You will. Because this is your fault."

My fingers drifted to my throat. Bare skin. The hollow where my mother's pendant used to rest. Nothing there but the ghost of it, and the memory of the body it had been placed on so I could disappear. My hand dropped back to my side.

"You'll never choose me over her, will you?" I asked quietly.

He didn't respond. Just tugged me forward again.

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding, then finally said the words I'd been hiding.

"I'm pregnant."