Chapter Four

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 the bed.

“I had a dream about you last night,” he says.

I freeze. “What kind of dream?”

“You were laughing. Really laughing. In a yellow dress. You hated yellow before.”

“Maybe I don’t anymore.”

He leans in, fingers brushing a curl behind my ear.

“You smell different too.”

My breath catches.

He kisses me.

This time, I kiss him back,not because I should, but because I want to.

It’s dangerous, intoxicating, and terrifying.

He pulls away slowly.

“I want to start trying,” he whispers.

I nod.

But something coils in my chest.

Because now, the lie isn’t just mine. It’s his too. He’s loving the wrong twin, and I’m letting him do it.

I thought I was doing this for my family, for my father.

But now, I’m not so sure.

The next morning, I found the onesie again.

Still hidden in the drawer where I shoved it.

Still staring at me like a loaded gun.

Someone sent it.

Someone knows.

I check the envelope again, hoping for a clue.

Nothing.

No trace, no markings. Just that message:

“Give him what he wants.”

Who would know?

Only three people know about the switch: me, Eliora, and

I freeze.

Could she have told someone?

A friend? A lover?

I tried to call her.

No answer.

I text. No reply.

Panic scratches at my throat.

I go to the one person who might know something….Vanessa.

I text her under Eliora’s name and ask for coffee.

She agrees.

We met at a rooftop café she and Eliora used to frequent.

She doesn’t notice the difference. Not really.

I’m good. Too good.

We order matcha lattes.

She talks about a new spa. I nod, play along.

Then I ask, “Have I been acting weird lately?”

Vanessa laughs. “Since when are you not weird?”

I smile. “No, seriously. Like… secretive?”

She pauses.

“You’ve been quieter. Distant. Not texting as much. And you canceled our trip to Dubai.”

Right. I didn’t even know there was a trip to cancel.

“Did I tell you why?”

She sips her drink. “Just said Adrian needed you around more.”

“And did I say anything… odd? About Adrian? Or the marriage?”

She narrows her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Just checking if I’ve… said too much.”

Vanessa leans in.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you’re in trouble, you can tell me.”

I shake my head. “No trouble.”

She watches me. Long. Hard.

Then says, “You seem different, Eliora. In a good way.”

“Different how?”

“Softer. Like you're finally letting someone in.”

She says it kindly, but it makes my stomach twist.

She doesn’t know the truth.

But someone does.

Back at the mansion, I find Adrian in the library.

He’s flipping through old photo albums.

“What are you doing?” I ask, keeping my tone light.

“Looking at family history,” he says. “My father’s been on me about legacy again.”

I walk closer.

He turns a page.

There’s a photo of him and his uncle, Marcian. A powerful man with sharp eyes and a colder smile.

“Your father still wants an heir?” I ask.

He shrugs. “It’s not about wanting. It’s about bloodlines.”

I studied the photo.

“Do you trust your uncle?” I ask.

He stiffens.

“No. Not even a little.”

“Why?”

Adrian closes the album.

“Because if anything happens to me, and there’s no child, he gets everything.”

I stop breathing.

“What do you mean?”

“My father’s will. It was revised before our wedding. The business, the assets… if there’s no heir, it defaults to Marcian.”

“And your father agreed to that?”

“He didn’t think it mattered. He thought a child would come quickly. Natural. But now, with the delays…”

He glances at me.

I look away.

If only he knew the real delay.

That the woman he married was never capable of carrying a child.

And the woman standing in front of him… might be his only chance.

That night, I dream of fire.

And Eliora, standing on the edge, watching me burn.

The next day, I finally heard from her.

A text. Short. Sharp.

“We need to talk. Now.”

We met in a parked car downtown.

No makeup. No masks.

Just us.

“I got your message,” I say.

“I didn’t send anything.”

My heart skips. “The onesie? The note?”

She shakes her head. “Wasn’t me.”

“Then who—”

“That’s why I’m here,” she interrupts. “I think someone followed me last week.”

I went cold. “Who?”

“No idea. Black car. Tinted windows. Same street. Three times.”

“You don’t think it’s Adrian?”

“No. He’s too busy kissing you, isn’t he?”

I ignore the jab.

“So someone knows. And they’re watching.”

She nods.

Then adds, “Maybe it’s time we end this.”

My chest tightens. “Now?”

“You’ve been there long enough. We agreed until the heir. But now… you’re getting comfortable.”

“I’m not”

“Yes, you are. You’re falling for him.”

I don’t deny it.

She scoffs.

“You think love will protect you? When the truth comes out, they’ll both hate us.”

“Then maybe we keep it buried,” I whisper.

But she’s already shaking her head.

“I want my life back. My husband. My name.”

“No,” I say, firmer now. “Not yet.”

“You don’t get to decide that.”

“I’m not ready!”

She pauses.

Then, in a whisper: “I missed my period.”

Everything inside me stops.

“What?”

“I took a test. Positive.”

I stare at her.

“But you’re infertile.”

She looks pale. Shaken. “Apparently not.”

I sit back

, breath stolen.

“You’re pregnant.”

She nods.

Then looks at me with eyes full of regret and fire.

“I’m coming home, Eliana. With proof.”

And suddenly…

Everything I thought I had just crumbled beneath my feet.

 She’s pregnant. I’m in love. And this entire house of cards is about to collapse.