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Dahlia’s POV
“Denise is gone!”
The scream ripped through my sleep like a sharp blade. My eyes flew open and my heart started pounding so hard it hurt. For a moment, I didn’t understand anything. The room was still dark, the weak morning light barely slipping through the curtains. Everything was quiet except for the sound of my breathing.
Then I heard it again. Mum’s voice.
I threw the blanket off me and jumped out of bed. The floor was cold under my bare feet, and I shivered as I hurried to the door. My hands were shaking so bad I could hardly grab the handle. The sound had come from across the hallway—Denise’s room. My twin sister’s room.
I rushed out, nearly tripping on the edge of the rug. My nightdress brushed against my legs as I ran, my hair messy and my eyes still blurry with sleep. But fear kept me moving. Something deep inside me already knew—something was very, very wrong.
When I pushed open Denise’s door, I stopped dead.
Mum was sitting on Denise’s bed, clutching a piece of paper in her hand. Her hair had fallen loose from its bun, and her face was wet with tears. She was shaking all over, whispering something under her breath that didn’t make sense. She looked… broken, like a piece of her had just been ripped away.
Father was pacing across the room like he couldn’t stand still. His face was red and furious, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. Each step he took made the floor creak. He looked ready to explode.
“Mum? Dad? What’s going on?” My voice came out small and shaky. I already felt like I didn’t want to hear the answer.
Mum looked up at me, her eyes wide and full of panic. Her lips trembled before she managed to speak. “It’s your sister, Dahlia,” she said in a broken voice. “Denise… she’s gone. She ran away.”
I blinked, not really understanding. The words didn’t make sense. “Gone?” I whispered. “What do you mean gone? She wouldn’t just leave.”
Mum’s hand trembled as she held out the crumpled piece of paper. “She left this,” she said, her voice cracking. “She said she couldn’t go through with the wedding. She said she couldn’t marry him.” Her voice broke completely as she pressed the letter against her chest. “Oh, God… what has she done?”
The air in the room suddenly felt heavy, like it was pressing down on me. The wedding. Mr. Romano. My stomach twisted so hard it felt like I might throw up. Denise had run away. On her wedding day.
Father stopped pacing. Then, without warning, he slammed his fist into the wall with a loud bang that made me jump. “That stupid girl!” he shouted, his voice echoing through the whole house. “Does she even know what she’s done? Does she know what this means for us?” His face was full of fury and fear all at once.
Mum started sobbing again, her whole body shaking as she buried her face in her hands. “He’ll kill us,” she whispered between cries. “Romano will kill us all. He said if Denise doesn’t marry him today, we won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Her words hit me like a slap. I couldn’t breathe. My chest tightened until it hurt, and the room spun for a second. I reached for the wall just to steady myself. Denise… my sister, my twin. We shared everything—our faces, our secrets, our dreams.
And now she was gone. Gone, leaving me behind to face a man everyone feared.
Leaving me to face Luca Romano.Father spun toward me so fast I froze. His eyes were sharp, wild almost. “Find her, Dahlia,” he barked. His voice was cold, like he’d already made up his mind. “You know what Romano’s like. He won’t care whose head he takes off first. If we don’t bring her back before sundown, we’re finished.”
The words hit me like a punch to the chest. My arms wrapped around myself without thinking, and my throat burned with words I couldn’t say. I wanted to scream. I wanted to ask why Denise had done this, why we had to be the ones paying for it. But nothing came out.
The room was heavy with silence. Only Mum’s sobs and Father’s footsteps filled it, and my own heartbeat was loud enough to hurt. Everything felt smaller—the walls, the air, even me. Denise was gone. And time was slipping away.
Then Mum looked up suddenly. Her eyes were swollen and red, her face streaked with tears. There was something desperate in her stare, something that made my stomach twist. Her lips trembled, and when she spoke, her voice came out thin and shaking.
“You’ll take her place, Dahlia,” she said. “You’ll marry Luca Romano.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even process the words. My mind just went blank. Then they sank in all at once, cold and sharp.
“What?” I whispered. My knees went weak.
Mum stood from the bed, clutching Denise’s letter like it was the only thing holding her together. “It’s the only way,” she said, almost breaking apart. “Romano can’t know she’s gone. If he does, he’ll kill us all. But you—you can take her place. You’re twins.”
I shook my head, stepping back until I hit the wall. “No. He’ll know. He’ll see it’s not her.”
Father stopped pacing. He turned slowly, his face tight and hard. “He won’t,” he said, voice like steel. “You’re identical. Put on her dress, do your hair, and smile. He won’t look twice.”
My stomach twisted painfully. Yes, we looked alike. Same hair, same eyes, same face. But we weren’t the same. Denise was the one people noticed—the one everyone loved. She was fearless and full of life. I was the quiet one. The extra. The one in the background.
Tears filled my eyes. “He’ll know,” I said softly. “He’ll know I’m not her.”
Mum reached for me, her hands shaking. Her touch was cold and desperate. “Please, Dahlia,” she begged. “If you don’t do this, we’re dead. Don’t you understand? He’ll kill us all. You’re our only chance.”
Her words hit me over and over. My chest hurt, my legs felt weak. I wanted to cry, to shout that it wasn’t fair, that I couldn’t be her. But when I looked at them—at the fear in Mum’s eyes and the anger burning in Father’s—I knew there was no choice.
So I said nothing. I just stood there, silent.
Because they didn’t know.
They didn’t know I’d seen Denise leave.
Andrea's POVHe groaned softly and curled his fingers inside me, hitting that spot that made everything go bright. His thumb worked my clit faster. “You’re doing so good,” he whispered. “So wet and tight around my fingers. I can feel you trying not to moan. Keep trying, baby. Come for me quiet. Let me feel it.”The orgasm hit fast and hard. My back arched off the bed, my pussy clenching around his fingers as pleasure rushed through me in hot waves. I cried out into my own hand, the sound muffled and broken, thighs shaking hard. He kept moving his hand through all of it, drawing it out, whispering the whole time.“Shh… that’s it. Come quiet for me. Good girl. So fucking good, staying quiet while I make you come all over my fingers.”Only when I started to come down did he slowly pull his fingers out. He brought them to his mouth and licked them clean while I watched, still trying to catch my breath with my hand over my mouth. Then he stood up long enough to shove his pants and underwea
Andrea's POVI pushed myself up on my elbows so I could see him better. “I missed you too,” I said. My voice came out quieter than I meant it to. “All day. Every time I looked up at the house I hoped I’d see you at one of the windows.”He leaned down, one knee on the mattress, and kissed me. It wasn’t soft. It was hard and hungry, his mouth opening over mine like he needed to taste me to breathe. His tongue slid against mine, deep and insistent. I kissed him back the same way, reaching up to fist the front of his shirt and pull him closer. One of his hands braced beside my head; the other came down to rest on my waist, fingers spreading wide over the damp bikini fabric. The kiss went on until my lips felt swollen and I was making small, needy sounds into his mouth.When he finally pulled back, his forehead stayed close to mine. “You look so hot in this swimsuit,” he said. His thumb stroked slowly along the edge of the bikini top, just above my breast. “I saw you from the mansion. From
Andrea's POVI was happy that my mum was giving her that. Happy that Dahlia was getting, even temporarily, the kind of warmth she deserved and maybe had never had.I lay back on my lounger and watched the two of them together—my mum laughing at something Dahlia said, Dahlia laughing back, her hand resting protectively over the gentle swell of her stomach—and without meaning to at all, I found my mind wandering somewhere I hadn't quite expected it to go.I imagined myself in Dahlia's place.Pregnant. Glowing. My own hand resting over my own growing belly. And Dante beside me—not hidden, not a secret, but mine, openly and completely. Looking at me the way Luca looked at Dahlia, with that quiet fierce pride and devotion. A future where we didn't have to hide. Where my mum could fuss over me the way she was fussing over Dahlia now, asking about names and nursery colors and whether I was feeling alright. Where Dante could rest his hand on my belly and feel his child kick and there would be
Andrea's POV"Love is a beautiful thing, sweetheart," she said quietly. "It's one of the most beautiful things in the whole world. There's nothing like it. But the people we give our hearts to don't always feel the same way back. And that's one of the hardest truths there is to live with." She squeezed my hands gently. "I just don't want to see your heart get broken, Andrea. That's all. That's the only thing a mother ever really worries about, no matter how old her children get. We just want to keep you from hurting.""I know," I said softly. "I know, Mum.""It's not that I don't believe he cares for you. From the little I saw, the way he looked at you in that mirror—" She gave a small knowing smile. "A man doesn't look at a woman like that over nothing. But caring and being able to say it, to give it freely—those aren't always the same thing. And you deserve all of it. The caring and the words and everything in between."She leaned over and kissed my forehead, soft and warm, the way
Andrea's POVI blushed before I could stop it. The heat rushed up my neck and flooded into my cheeks instantly, completely traitorously, giving me away before I'd said a single word."What? No, of course not," I said quickly. "He just works for Luca, that's all. He drove us from the airport, that's the only reason you saw us together."But my mum had been reading me my entire life, and she just looked at me with the patient, unhurried certainty of someone who already knew the answer and was simply waiting for me to stop pretending and admit it."Andrea," she said again. Just my name. Gentle but immovable.I deflated. There was no point. There had never been any point in trying to hide things from her—she'd always seen straight through me, even when I was small and certain I was being clever."How long?" she asked softly.I sighed and pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them. "It started a long time ago. The first time I came to visit Luca. Four years ago." I picked
Andrea's POVI settled onto my bed with my laptop and opened up my novel, picking up right where I'd left off. The words had been coming so much more easily lately, ever since things with Luca had stabilized and the constant crushing weight of fear had finally lifted off all of us. My characters were finally getting somewhere good now—working through the misunderstandings that had kept them apart, finding their way back to each other. There was something deeply satisfying about writing toward a happy ending, even when my own real-life situation still felt so uncertain and complicated.I wrote for about an hour, completely losing myself in the story, before my phone pinged on the nightstand beside me.I picked it up. It was Dante.You okay?I felt myself smile at the screen before I'd even started typing.I'm fine. Mum and Dahlia are downstairs becoming best friends. I think my mum has officially adopted her.His reply came quickly.Good. Dahlia could use that.I noticed he didn't elab
Dahlia’s POVThe next morning, I woke up alone in bed. For a few seconds, I didn’t move. I just lay there, staring up at the ceiling, the soft light of morning spilling through the curtains. It took a moment before my sleepy mind remembered what day it was. My birthday.A strange heaviness settled o
Dahlia’s POVIt had been a week since the attack, and every day since then felt like I was slowly finding my footing again. The memory of that afternoon still came back to me sometimes—especially when things got too quiet—but now, instead of freezing in fear, I used that memory as motivation. I refu
Dahlia’s POVThe words hung in the air like ice.My head jerked up, my heart instantly pounding. “What do you mean followed?” I asked, my voice trembling as I turned around in my seat. Through the back window, I saw headlights—bright
Luca’s POVI watched her sleep longer than I should have. The room was dark except for a thin ribbon of light that cut across the bed. Dahlia’s breath was soft and slow now. Her face looked peaceful, almost like the girl I’d seen sometimes when she thought no one was looking — small, quiet, and ver







