Romans de Udoji Precious

The silence is louder than the truth.Adrian stands across from me, holding the DNA test results. His jaw is clenched. His eyes are unreadable. And I know, at this moment, nothing will ever be the same.“You’re pregnant,” he says flatly.I nod.“With my child.”Another nod.“And you’re not my wife.”I couldn't even answer.He tosses the envelope onto the glass table. It flutters like a dying leaf.Eliora is behind him, arms crossed, face triumphant. She’s wearing her victory like perfume, strong enough to choke me.“You lied to me,” Adrian says.“I didn’t mean to..”“You slept beside me. Ate with me. Kissed me. And all this time, you were her.”My voice is barely a whisper. “I was just trying to protect everyone.”He laughs once. Dry and bitter. “Protect? You pretended to be someone else and ended up carrying my child. That’s not protection. That’s manipulation.”Eliora steps forward.“She used me. Lied to you. Lied to me.”“Stop,” I murmur.“She stole my marriage.”“You gave it away.

I can’t breathe.The moment she said,“I’m pregnant”,my world tilted.She was never supposed to be the one.I was the replacement, the backup plan, the shadow wearing her face. And yet here I am… living a life that doesn’t belong to me, falling in love with a man who was never mine, only to lose everything again because of one test. One line.“You’re sure?” I ask.Her voice is ice. “Yes.”I stare at my reflection in the car window. Same hair. Same eyes. Same lips. But none of this belongs to me.She gives me a look like she’s already won.“I’ll return before the end of the week.”“No.”Her brows shoot up. “Excuse me?”I turned to her. “You said I had until there was an heir. Well, I’m still carrying that part out.”“You mean I’m carrying that part out,” she snaps, placing a protective hand over her stomach.I sigh. “Then let me handle this for just a bit longer. Let me talk to Adrian. Ease it in.”“There’s no easing in, Eliana. You had your time. It’s my life. My husband. My child.”“A

He’s different.Less guarded. More present.He’s still Adrian,the man with a calendar tighter than a noose,but lately he lingers. At breakfast. On the balcony. In the hallway outside our bedroom, he wants to say something but doesn’t know how.It’s terrifying.And I hate that I love it.I should be thinking of my exit. The switch was never meant to last. But here I am, memorizing the way his eyes crease when he smiles, how his voice softens when he says my name.Except… it’s not my name.Every moment I spend with him is a lie wrapped in something dangerously close to real.We have dinner together again. No staff. No distractions.I make chicken in white wine sauce. He helps wash the dishes.He’s relaxed. Curious. Watching me like I’m someone new, and in his eyes, I am.“You’ve changed,” he says again.“I told you. I’m adapting.”“Feels more like awakening.”I laugh, but it’s strained. “Maybe I’m just finally… seeing you.”That quiets him.Later, in the bedroom, he sits beside me on th

Chapter ThreeHe was gone by the time I woke up.No note. No text. No explanation.Just silence and space—his usual.It was supposed to make it easier for me. Fewer questions, fewer chances to mess up. But it only reminded me how alien this life felt, even though I was now wearing it like my own skin.I spent most of the morning studying her things. Her perfumes. Her journals. Her playlists. The way she curled her “r”s in writing, how she signed her name with a little flick at the end. Every detail was important. I had to become her, not just look like her.The staff watched me like hawks. But I smiled, nodded, made polite small talk, and followed her routine to the letter.I couldn’t afford mistakes. Not when the stakes were this high.I’d already crossed the line.Now, I had to make sure no one noticed.At lunch, I ate in the sunroom.At 2:00 p.m., I called her best friend, Vanessa, like she used to do every Friday.At 4:00, I tried on dresses for the charity gala Adrian's mother wa

It started with three knocks on my door. Soft. Hesitant. But I knew it was her.I opened it without a word.Eliora stepped in like she hadn’t just married into one of the richest families in the country. Like she wasn’t supposed to be waking up beside her new husband in a mansion full of staff.She didn’t sit. She didn’t smile.“I need your help,” she said.I closed the door behind her. My fingers twitched.“Help with what?”She turned to face me, and I noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the chipped polish on her nails, the nervous way she twisted her wedding ring.“I can’t have a child,” she whispered.The words sucked the air out of the room.“What do you mean?”“I’ve tried,” she said. “We’ve been… doing it. Or pretending to. But it doesn’t matter. It won’t work. My body’s broken.”“Eli….!”“Because of the abortions.”Silence.The room was still. My breath caught.She never talked about that. Not out loud. Not even to me.“I thought maybe it wouldn’t matter,” she said, voice c

The walls of my father’s study used to be lined with framed awards and magazine covers.Now, they’re just dusty reminders of what used to be.He sits across from us, behind the desk that once ruled a business empire. His fingers tap the surface, steady and slow. Every tap is a countdown. And when it stops, the silence becomes unbearable.“I’ve made the decision,” he says.His voice is tired, but his tone is final.He doesn’t look at me.He looks at my sister.My twin.Eliora.“You’ll marry Adrian Donavan.”Just like that.Not a request. A command.Eliora doesn’t flinch. She crosses her legs, raises one brow, and says, “Excuse me?”“You heard me.”“No, I didn’t. I thought I heard you say you’re marrying me off to a man I don’t know, like it’s 1823.”My father sighs and stands. His suit is rumpled. He hasn’t shaved. This isn’t the man who once dined with prime ministers.“This is the deal,” he says. “Donavan invests fifty million into Vaughn Corp. In return, we merge families. Marriage.