Married To The Wrong Twin

I am not the bride anyone wanted. Not my mother, who's spent my whole life measuring my body against my twin sister's. Not the family who built an empire on marrying the right woman at the right time. And certainly not Callum Ashford, the man who mocked my size when we were teenagers and never looked at me twice again, not until the law required it. When my sister Ivy's engagement collapses days before her wedding, a decades-old inheritance clause names me as her replacement, whether either of us wants it or not. Marry Callum, or watch two families lose everything they've spent generations building. I say yes for my parents. He says yes because there's no one else close enough in blood to say it instead. But the trust doesn't just want a marriage. It wants proof, a pregnancy confirmed within thirty days of the ceremony, or the whole arrangement dissolves. I refuse the version everyone assumes I'll accept without question. He's furious. I don't care. What neither of us expects is what happens in the space between resentment and duty, in stolen glances neither of us mean to give, in a husband who starts noticing the woman he spent years dismissing. But Ivy hasn't given up either, and some doors, once opened, are harder to close than anyone in that family is ready to admit. I married my twin's fiancé. I'm starting to wonder if he married the right one after all.