All Chapters of He Married My Twin While I Watched in a Bridesmaid Dress: Chapter 1 - Chapter 8

His words made me freeze where I stood, my fingers closing around the small key he had pressed into my palm.From somewhere deeper in the villa, one of the old capos called out. "Where is the Don? Father Dominic is waiting to begin the blessing."Luca turned at the sound, pressing a quick kiss against my cheek before pulling away."On my way."I stood frozen as he disappeared into the crowd, the metal key still warm against my skin.The man I was supposed to marry had been sneaking around with my twin sister. My brain refused to accept it. It felt impossible and unreal. Like a cruel joke someone was playing on me. How could I have been so blind?In the main hall, my parents sat at the head table beneath the family crest, satisfaction written across both their faces.Luca guided Isabella to the center of the room where Father Dominic stood waiting in his ceremonial robes. He handed her a glass of wine, his hand steadying hers when she pretended to stumble slightly in her heels.He knelt

The reception hall doors opened, and guests began filling the long tables. Waiters moved between them carrying trays of champagne and wine.This morning, the moment Isabella agreed to take my place, my father went upstairs and came back down wearing something I had never seen before. He wore a flawless charcoal-gray suit made from the finest Italian wool, cut perfectly to his body.He had bought it last year and never worn it. He said he was saving it for something that mattered.Apparently, this mattered.Moments ago, when I asked my father to walk me down the aisle, he looked at me like I had just asked him to set himself on fire in front of the entire family."Why would I do something like that? You think I want to embarrass myself in front of everyone?" He shook his head. "If you're so desperate to walk down an aisle, you shouldn't have let your sister wear your wedding dress from the start."Now he stood by the entrance in that expensive suit, laughing with guests and shaking hand

Luca didn't say another word. He just turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him."Your mother was right. Isabella knows how to make a man feel wanted. You never did."The words hit me like an arrow straight to the chest. The people closest to you always know exactly where to aim when they want to hurt you.When I arrived back at the estate, the lights were off and no one was home.I checked my phone. The family group chat had exploded with messages. My mother's name appeared over and over. Then my father's. Then my aunts and uncles.All of them blaming me for what happened.I turned off notifications and shoved the phone back in my pocket.I walked upstairs to my room and opened the closet.There wasn't much to pack.Most of my clothes were hand-me-downs from Isabella. When she turned sixteen, our parents bought her an entire new wardrobe from Paris. She got custom dresses, tailored coats and jewelry.A week later, my mother brought Isabella's old wardrobe into my room and to

I left the city that same night and didn't look back.I drove for hours until I reached a small coastal town I'd only ever seen in photos. The kind of place where no one knew my name or cared about my family or asked questions I didn't want to answer.I rented a tiny apartment above a bookstore and started over.For the first time in my life, I woke up without the weight of someone else's expectations pressing down on my chest.I painted because I wanted to, not because I was trying to prove something, and I took long walks by the water without checking my phone every five minutes.It was quiet, and peaceful.Six months later, I opened a small art gallery near the harbor. It wasn't much—just a renovated warehouse with whitewashed walls and secondhand furniture—but it was mine.That's where I met Marco.He came in one afternoon looking for a gift for his sister and ended up staying for two hours, asking about every piece on the wall. He didn't know anything about art, but he listened li