Married To The Man Who Killed My Twin Brother

“One, two, three.”

The camera flashed again, and another round of applause followed almost immediately. I kept the smile on my face even though my cheeks already hurt from forcing it for hours. Around us, guests moved through the grand ballroom laughing, drinking expensive champagne, and celebrating what they believed was a perfect love story.

The photographer lowered his camera with a satisfied grin before motioning for us to stay still. “I got one more,” he said excitedly. “Smile for me, baby.”

Before I could react, Edris pulled me closer against him, one hand settling naturally around my waist. The warmth of his body pressed against mine through the fabric of my wedding dress while his expensive cologne surrounded me.

“You look beautiful today,” he murmured near my ear. “I’m glad I married you.”

A few people nearby laughed at his words while others stared at us with obvious envy. To everyone in this room, we looked like two people hopelessly in love.

I smiled again because that was exactly what they expected from me.

The perfect bride.

The lucky woman who had just married Italy’s most desired billionaire.

If only they knew the truth.

If only they knew I had spent the last three years waiting for this exact moment.

“You’re zoning out again,” Sofia whispered beside me when the photographer finally stepped away. “At least pretend you’re enjoying marrying the hottest man in Florence.”

I laughed quietly, mostly for her sake, but Edris noticed it immediately. His eyes moved toward me again, soft enough to make something uncomfortable twist inside my chest.

That was the problem with Edris. Nothing about him felt like the monster I had imagined all these years, not the way he looked at me or the way he touched me.

He had spent months loving me so carefully that sometimes I almost forgot why I had come into his life in the first place.

The reception continued late into the night inside the Veltri estate, which overlooked the glowing hills of Florence. Politicians, business moguls, models, and celebrities filled the ballroom, all eager to congratulate Edris Veltri on finally getting married. He handled every conversation effortlessly, calm and untouchable as always, but no matter who spoke to him, his attention kept drifting back to me like I was the only person that mattered in the room.

The thought made my stomach tighten painfully.

By the time the final guests began leaving, exhaustion hung heavily over the entire estate. My heels hurt, my head ached from smiling, and the weight of what I planned to do that night sat heavily in my chest.

Edris kept his hand against my back as we entered the private elevator leading upstairs. The silence between us wasn’t awkward. If anything, it felt intimate.

“You survived an Italian wedding,” he said with a faint smile. “That alone deserves respect.”

I let out a quiet laugh, and his expression softened instantly at the sound. Then he leaned down and pressed a slow kiss against my temple.

“You’re really my wife now.”

For one dangerous second, guilt flickered through me before I remembered Julian, my twin brother.

Blood on the ground.

Rain pouring endlessly.

A gun in Edris Veltri’s hand.

The guilt disappeared immediately.

When the elevator doors opened, a trail of rose petals stretched across the floor leading directly toward the bedroom. Candles flickered softly around the suite while red roses decorated the bed in the shape of a heart. The entire room looked beautiful enough to belong in a romance film.

It almost made me laugh.

“I’ll be back in a minute,” Edris said as he loosened his tie and disappeared into the bathroom.

The second the door closed behind him, my smile vanished completely.

Slowly, I reached beneath the pillow and wrapped my fingers around the knife I had hidden there earlier.

Cold metal pressed against my palm, grounding me instantly.

This was why I had come here. I hadn’t come for love or marriage. I had come for revenge.

By the time Edris walked back into the room, I was already lying across the bed wearing the black and red silk nightgown he had bought for me during our trip to Milan weeks earlier.

His steps slowed immediately.

For the first time all night, he actually looked distracted.

A rose rested between his teeth as he approached the bed slowly, amusement dancing in his dark eyes.

“You’re trying to kill me tonight, sweetheart.”

If only he knew how true that was.

I watched him climb onto the bed until he hovered over me, his hands sliding carefully along my thighs. Every touch was slow, patient, almost worshipful as if I were something precious to him.

God, I hated how much that affected me.

“Edris,” I whispered.

His lips brushed against my jaw. “Hm?”

I stared at him for a few seconds before speaking again.

“Is there anything you’re hiding from me?”

The mood in the room changed instantly.

His movements stopped completely, and the teasing expression on his face slowly faded. “What do you mean by that?”

My fingers tightened around the knife hidden beneath the sheets.

“Why did you kill your best friend, Julian Devereux?”

For a moment, Edris stared at me like he hadn’t heard the question properly.

“What?”

The confusion on his face almost looked real.

The next second, I drove the knife into him.

Edris gasped sharply as the blade sank near his shoulder, close enough to his chest to make blood spread across his white shirt almost immediately. He stumbled backward off the bed, shock written all over his face as he grabbed the wound instinctively.

I climbed off the bed, unable to look away from the knife protruding from Edris’s chest. After three years of grief and rage, I had finally done it.

“Go to hell, you liar.”