Chapter 10: The Man I Married Twice

I did not breathe. 

The man on the monitor had Roman’s face. Roman’s voice. Roman’s eyes. But the Roman beside me was solid. His blood was on my hand. His heart was beating too fast against my arm. 

Two Romans. Only one could be real.

“Impossible,” Singh said from the doorway. Her gun was up, pointed at the screen. “Roman Kade was in that car. We pulled him out. DNA matched.” 

“DNA can be faked,” Victor said. He was still on the floor where Roman had thrown him, blood on his lip, smiling. “Especially when you own the lab.” 

The man on the screen pressed the gun harder to my mother’s head. She was crying, silent tears streaming down her face. She looked at the camera like she knew I was watching. 

“Isla,” she mouthed. I am sorry.

“Who are you?” I said. My voice did not sound like mine.

The man on the screen tilted his head. Exactly like Roman did when he was calculating. “You tell me, wife. You thought you slept next to me for ten years.” 

Ten years. The Vegas marriage. Amnesia. The way he looked at me like I was the only good thing he ever had. None of it was real. 

I stepped back. My back hit Roman’s chest. The wrong Roman. The man who bled for me. The man who taught me Morse code. The man who changed the panic room code to my birthday. 

“Isla,” he said, his voice breaking. “Look at me.” 

I could not. If I looked, I would see a stranger. 

“You lied,” I said. 

“I did not lie,” he said. “I did not know.” 

“Did not know you were not him?” 

“I did not know I was not me.” 

The words made no sense. Victor laughed from the floor. “Oh, this is better than I planned. You really believed it. Both of you.” 

Singh moved, putting herself between us and the monitors. “Everyone shut up. You,” she said to the screen, “you are under arrest. Let her go.” 

The man who looked like Roman smiled. “No. Not until my brother gives me what is mine.” 

Brother. 

I turned slowly. The man holding me was shaking, but not from fear. From rage. 

“Twin,” he said. 

The word dropped into the panic room like a bomb. Roman Kade had a twin. And I had married him. 

“His name is Kieran,” Victor said. “My other son. The spare. The one I kept in Switzerland after his mother died. He was supposed to replace Roman if Roman got a conscience.” 

Kieran. The man I nursed. The man I kissed in ICU Room 7. The man who said Let me love you out loud. Not Roman. Kieran. 

“You knew,” I said to Victor. “You knew and you let me—” 

“I let you love him,” Victor said. “Because it was the only way to keep you alive. Roman was going to expose me. I needed leverage. A wife who would do anything to save her husband. Even die for him.” 

Kieran’s arms came around me. Not to restrain me. To hold me. “Isla, listen,” he said, his mouth in my ear. “I woke up in that hospital and they called me Roman. My face was his. My scars were his. I did not remember Vegas because I was never there. But I remembered you. From high school. From before.” 

“Before what?” 

“Before my father sent me away. I was fourteen. You were thirteen. You gave me your lunch when I forgot mine. You did not know who I was. You just saw a kid who was hungry.” 

The flash drive. My dad gave it to me when I was fourteen. The same year Kieran disappeared. 

“You,” I said. “You are the reason he copied the files.” 

Kieran nodded. His forehead touched mine. “He saw what Victor was doing to me. To Roman. He tried to get me out. Victor found out. Your dad died because of me.” 

No. My dad died because of Victor. But Kieran carried it, like Roman carried the bullying. The Kade men and their guilt. 

On the screen, the real Roman spoke. “Enough reunion. Kieran, you have three minutes. Give me the drive, or I put a bullet in her head. Then I come down there and finish what our father started.” 

Roman. The real Roman. The one who let his father beat him instead of hurting me. He was going to kill my mom. 

“Do not,” Kieran said. His voice was pure steel, the CEO he never got to be. “You touch her, and I swear to God—” 

“You will what?” Roman said. “You are not Roman Kade. You are a copy. A mistake. You do not even have a name. Dad burned your birth certificate.” 

Kieran flinched. I felt it. He had no name. No inheritance. No life. Except the one he built with me. As my husband. 

“Isla,” Singh said. “We need to move. Now. I have a team on the roof. We can extract.” 

“Not without my mom,” I said. 

“Not without the drive,” Victor said from the floor. 

“Not without me,” Roman said from the screen. 

Three men. All wanting something from me. Just like always. 

I looked at Kieran. He was not Roman. He was the boy who took beatings. The man who changed a code to my birthday. The man who said You just have to be with me. He was not my bully. He was my second chance. 

And I was his. 

I made my choice. I stepped out of Kieran’s arms. 

“Kieran,” I said. His real name. For the first time. 

His eyes went wide. No one had called him that in ten years. 

“You are not a copy,” I said. “You are not a mistake. You are the man who held my hand while Patel stitched you. You are the man who taught me Morse code so I would never be trapped again.” 

“Kieran,” Roman said from the screen. His voice was different. Shocked. “You remember.” 

“I remember you,” Kieran said. “I remember you crying when Dad made you break her wrist in tenth grade. I remember you choosing her over the company. Over him. Over me.” 

Roman’s gun lowered a fraction. “You were supposed to stay dead. Like him.” He jerked his chin at Victor. “It was the only way to keep her safe.” 

The twist hit me like a fist. Roman had not crashed. He had run. He faked his death to draw Victor out. To protect me. And Kieran woke up with his face, his scars, his wife. 

No one had lied. Everyone had sacrificed. 

“Let my mom go,” I said to the screen. “Please. Roman.” 

The real Roman looked at me. For ten years, he had looked at me like I was seventeen, like I was the only good thing he ever had. Now he looked at me like I was a stranger who stole his brother. 

“You first,” he said. “Bring me the drive. Then I let her go.” 

The flash drive. My dad’s life. My mom’s soul. Kieran’s name. It all came down to a piece of silver in my hand. 

Kieran touched my wrist. “Isla. Do not. He will kill you both.” 

“Then we die together,” I said. 

His eyes burned. I can survive your hate. I cannot survive your silence. I was done being silent. 

I walked to the vault door. Singh tried to stop me. I shook her off. 

“Open it,” I told Kieran. 

“Isla—” 

“Open it.” 

He typed the code. 6-2-1-9. My birthday. Still. 

The door hissed open. I walked out. Into the hall. Toward the stairs. Toward my mom and the man with Roman’s face. Kieran followed. He always would. 

Victor laughed behind us. “That is my boy. Always choosing the girl over the crown.” 

We reached the main floor. My mom was there, on her knees, tears streaming. 

Roman stood behind her. Gun to her head. He looked exactly like Kieran, but colder. Hardened. The boy who survived by becoming his father. 

“Drive,” he said. 

I held it up. “Let her go.” 

“Throw it.” 

I threw it. It skidded across the marble and stopped at Roman’s feet. He did not pick it up. He looked at Kieran. 

“You got her,” he said. “You always did. Even when we were kids. She looked at you, not me.” 

“She does not know you,” Kieran said. 

“She knows enough.” Roman smiled, and it was wrong on his face. “She knows you are not me. And now she has to choose.” 

He kicked the drive back to me. 

“What?” I said. 

“Pick,” Roman said. “Him. Or her. You do not get both.” 

My mom sobbed. Kieran went still beside me. 

The flash drive was at my feet. My mom was on her knees. And I had to choose between the woman who lied to protect me and the man who lied to love me. 

The stakes had changed. My goal was not to keep Roman alive anymore. It was to decide if Kieran deserved to live as himself. 

If I chose my mom, Roman would shoot her anyway. Then he would take the drive and Kieran would be nothing. No name. No wife. No life. 

If I chose Kieran, my mom died. 

The gun was steady in Roman’s hand. “Kieran,” he said. “Brother. You want her? Say it. Say you are not me. Say you stole my life.” 

Kieran looked at me. He had bled for me. He had changed codes for me. He had given me choice when no one else would. 

“I am not him,” Kieran said. His voice was clear. “I am Kieran. And I love her. Not be

cause of a marriage license. Because she chose me when she thought I was a monster.” 

Roman’s finger tightened on the trigger. “Then you die as him,” Roman said. 

The gun fired.