His Brother's Bride

A week before I was supposed to marry Dante, heir to the Blackwood crime family, I found out I was pregnant. At the same time, I found out the truth about our love story—it was all an act to get revenge for his beloved Isabella, just because I’d “stolen her spotlight” back in school.I didn’t let on that I knew. I quietly scheduled an abortion and submitted an application to become a war correspondent.I decided to give Dante a “gift” of my own, right at the wedding.The blood test was clear: Pregnant.I stared at the word, my heart pounding. Three years. Three whole years with Dante, and we finally had a child of our own. The timing was perfect, right as we were planning our wedding.The Chicago blizzard was brutal. There were hardly any cabs on the street. I shivered in the wind and snow for over twenty minutes before I finally flagged one down.On the way, I kept imagining Dante's reaction. He'd freeze for a second, then flash that smile that always made my heart race. He'd pull me

The next day, after burying my grandmother, I dragged my exhausted body back to Dante’s mansion. The moment I put the key in the lock, I heard laughter from inside.I pushed the door open. Three people were in the living room: Dante, Marco, and Isabella.Their laughter died the moment they saw me. The air, thick with the smell of champagne and expensive perfume, made me sick to my stomach."Rose, you're back." Dante stood up, that gentle smile I once loved plastered on his face. "Come, let me introduce you."I stood frozen at the door."This is my twin brother, Marco."My eyes shifted to the man I knew. The wild grin from the club was gone, replaced by a mask of polite friendliness."Hello, my dear... sister-in-law." He held out his hand, looking perfectly welcoming.The thought of the things I'd done with him made my stomach clench. I fought back the nausea and gave a stiff nod."And this is my... friend, Isabella." The pause Dante took made the word "friend" sound like a joke. "Isabe

I shoved Marco off me with all my strength and ran to the bathroom, dry-heaving over the toilet.Marco, still playing his part, sounded annoyed. "What's wrong? Still mad? Rose, I didn't realize you were such a brat."I had no energy to respond, just knelt there, my stomach churning."You're no fun," I heard him mutter. Then, he was on the phone. "Bro, Rose just started throwing up. You think she could be pregnant?"I collapsed onto the cold tile floor."Pregnant?" I heard Isabella's sickly-sweet voice on the other end. "Marco, don't you think this is a bit much? Rose will be so hurt if she finds out."Dante's voice was gentle, and I could almost picture him holding her. "You don't need to worry about her. If she really is pregnant..."The line went quiet for a few seconds."If she's pregnant," Dante's voice came back, cold as ice, "then clean it up. I don't need any loose ends. Neither do you, right, Marco?"For some reason, Marco hesitated. "Yeah... of course. I don't want her kid."T

I forced my still-recovering body out of bed and stormed to Isabella’s hospital room.The door was unlocked. I burst in. Isabella was standing by the window, holding my grandmother's locket ring, dangling it in the sunlight.“Isabella, you murderer—” A fire of pure hatred burned in my chest, so hot it hurt to breathe.I pictured my grandmother's face in her final moments, her eyes filled with tears. It all made sense now—why she had insisted on seeing Dante. She knew the hell I'd been through, and she was desperate for someone to protect me.But her last wish never came true.Isabella's voice echoed in my head, taunting me. "So call the cops. Who do you think they'll believe?"She was right. It was just like before, when she bullied me. No one would listen."Give it back," I gasped, out of breath. "That's the only thing my grandmother left me.""Oh, you mean this?" She held the ring up high, out the window. "It's a beautiful antique. But I think it suits someone like me better."My hea

I spent the entire day at the city dump.My hands were cut and scraped, my nails were caked with filth, and my clothes were soaked in foul-smelling garbage juice. The workers stared at me like I was insane—a woman frantically digging through a mountain of trash.At dusk, I finally found it, buried in a pile of rotting food.But the picture of my grandmother was gone.I opened the locket ring with trembling hands. The tiny photograph that had been inside was missing. It was the only color photo of her as a young woman, my last anchor in this world.It felt like a knife had been twisted in my heart. I knelt in the garbage, sobbing in despair.I ran back to the hospital like a madwoman.Isabella was just being discharged. When she saw me, filthy and reeking, a triumphant smirk crossed her lips. The nurses around us stared—a woman who smelled like a landfill."Find your ring?" she asked loudly, drawing more attention. "About that picture, though...""What did you do with the picture?" I lu