Twins Get Divorces Together Novels & Stories

Ava "There’s no 'us' anymore, Riccardo. We’re divorced, and you made that choice when you pushed me away," I said, holding back tears. I refused to let him see me cry. After holding the twins at their birth, I promised myself I wouldn’t shed another tear over their father. He smirked at me. "Divorce?" he asked, a playful grin on his face. "Yes, the papers I sent you to sign. What’s so funny about that?"

Regardless, she decided to worry about it after the divorce. Upon seeing that, Soren refused to lose to Zach. "I'll divorce Elsie, too! I'm confident that I can win her back anyway!" I couldn't help but cock a brow at him as though I were staring at an idiot. That said, I shared Juliet's sentiments—I had to focus on finalizing the divorce first. … It wasn't long before Juliet and I held hands and exited the courthouse with our divorce papers. Our steps felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted off us.

Before this, Stella had caused scene after scene, and Evan still had refused to divorce her. So what happened this time? Lucas and Leon exchanged another shocked look. Then Lucas turned back to Evan. “What the hell did she do now?” She had raised that much hell before and he still would not divorce her. So whatever happened this time had to be even worse than burning down the house. What could possibly be worse than that? Evan said, “The girl from the twins died.” Lucas went silent. Leon did too. The moment they heard that, both of them felt their chests tighten.

Now, I understood why the siblings had a frigid relationship before now and why they were now just beginning to love themselves. “So there were a lot of differences between them when it first happened and so the twins had to leave despite their mother’s insistence not to but i’m happy though, she was able to reconcile them just before she died. If she hadn’t, I don't think they'd be here in the first place. So there you have it.” she said.

My twin sister, Lea Conte, and I married two brothers from a powerful mafia family. When I'm seven months pregnant, I'm ambushed by a group of thugs. Desperate, I call my husband, Vincenzo Bellini, for help, but he hangs up on me five times. On the sixth try, he finally answers, but his voice is cold. "Ingrid's having a breakdown and trying to slit her wrists. Do you really have to pull a cheap stunt like this right now just to get my attention? Stop calling!" Ingrid Ferri is the Bellini family's adopted daughter and the childhood sweetheart of the Bellini brothers. I fight back with everything I have, but one of the thugs still drives a blade straight into my stomach. As I lie bleedin

I didn't move, though my thumb pressed hard against the back of Adriel's small hand, an anchor I hadn't realized I needed. Vanessa's voice shook as she continued. "You abandoned the woman you were married to because she couldn't give you a child. You sent her away, and you chose me because I was carrying yours." A strange numbness spread through me. I had heard those facts before. I had lived them. But hearing Vanessa say them out loud after all these years felt different. My free hand came up and pressed briefly against my own collarbone, as though I could hold the old ache still by force.

“They are physically fine, but we need you here as soon as possible.” I closed my eyes briefly.“I’ll be there.” The call ended. For a moment, I simply stood there trying to calm my breathing. Then I grabbed my bag.“I have to go.” Ethan was already standing.“I’m coming with you.” “No.” The answer came out immediately, his expression hardened slightly.“No?” I shook my head. “I don’t want the twins meeting you again.” The words hung heavily between us. For a moment neither of us spoke.Then Ethan walked around the desk. “This is about the children.”

"Mrs. Marchetti, you had access to a private driver, a black American Express card, a wardrobe that cost more than a small house. Does that sound like a prisoner to you?" "I had what he wanted me to have," I replied, my voice icy. "I didn't have the freedom to leave, or the right to say no." "And is it true you engaged in a sexual relationship with your husband's identical twin?" "Yes." "So you are an adulteress." I held his gaze. "I am a survivor of abuse. The difference between your client and me is that I never lied about who I was. I never tried to kill anyone. And I never broke the law."

"I shook the man's hand two nights ago. I don't need the paper to tell me who he is. What I need is for you to tell me why he's suddenly showing up at your galas and calling you before eight in the morning, five years after you told me the marriage was over and buried." I wrap both hands around the mug instead of answering right away, letting the heat seep into my palms. "I told you the truth. It ended badly. I left. I hadn't seen his face in five years, until the gala." "And now he's seen the twins." Julian says it quietly, not a question, watching me the way he watches a contract clause he doesn't fully trust. "That's what this is really about, isn't it. Not the marriage. Them."

“The twins. How old are they?” Elena’s chest tightened. She set her fork down slowly, trying to keep her hands from shaking. “They’re… they’re fine.” “That’s not what I asked.” Elena looked down at her plate. “They’re five.” Julian nodded slowly. “Five. And their father?” Elena’s hand tightened around her fork. “He’s not in the picture.” “No?” Julian’s voice was soft, almost gentle. “That must be hard. Raising two boys alone.” “It is,” Elena said quietly. “But I manage.”