

Chapter 1 of I Married His Brother For Revenge
The day I laid my parents to rest, two people who should have been there were conspicuously absent—my husband, Vincent, and my fraternal twin sister, Natalia. Their empty places beside me felt louder than the prayers spoken over the grave.
My parents had died together, swallowed by the sea. My father had planned a short island getaway for my mother, a rare escape from the vineyard they had devoted their lives to. It was meant to be romantic. Peaceful. But the skies turned vicious without warning. The storm tore through the water, capsizing their boat before it ever reached land. When the Coast Guard finally recovered them, they were still clutching each other’s hands, as if love alone could anchor them.
I was still standing at the cemetery when my phone vibrated.
A message—from Natalia.
I opened it without thinking. The image on my screen knocked the air from my lungs. Vincent was on one knee in front of her, pressing his lips to her rounded stomach like it was sacred. Like it was everything. Beneath the photo were the words: Guess who’s finally going to be a dad?
My fingers trembled so badly I nearly dropped the phone. No. This couldn’t be real. It had to be a sick joke. A lie.
Then another image loaded.
Any last shred of denial I had left vanished.
Natalia stood in front of my bedroom mirror, my silk robe wrapped around her body, phone lifted for a selfie. Behind her, sprawled across the bed I shared with my husband, Vincent slept like a man with nothing to hide.
I couldn’t breathe.
My husband had impregnated my twin sister.
Natalia had always been trouble. The wild one. Self-centered, impulsive, forever chasing chaos. My parents spent years shielding her from the consequences of her choices while I stayed behind, helping manage the vineyard, carrying responsibility on my back. But after I married Vincent, she changed—or pretended to. She began copying me. My clothes. My scent. Even the way I styled my hair or held a glass of wine. I used to brush it off as admiration. Now I understood the truth. She wasn’t imitating me. She was replacing me.
The tears came fast and blinding. My legs gave out, and I sank to my knees before my parents’ grave. The soil was still loose, still raw. My sobs soaked into the earth as I fell apart in front of them.
I had noticed things before—the lingering looks, the quiet smiles, the way conversations died the second I entered the room. But I refused to believe that the two people I trusted most could betray me so completely.
My phone buzzed again.
This time, it was Vincent.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the funeral,” the message read. “Something urgent came up. We need to talk when I get home.”
I already knew what that conversation would be about.
That evening, Vincent walked in with Natalia beside him, suitcases in her hands like she belonged there.
“She’ll be staying with us,” he said gently, as if kindness could disinfect the rot of his actions. “Natalia’s afraid to stay alone at your parents’ place. She’s pregnant. It’s not safe.”
Natalia offered me a smile so sugary it made my stomach churn. “I’m really sorry, sis. I asked Vincent to wait, but the baby has to come first. You understand, right? We’re twins. I know this isn’t ideal timing… especially with Mom and Dad just gone.”
I stared at the floor, my chest tight, my lungs burning.
Vincent pressed on. “She’s your sister. Your blood. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.”
I wanted to scream. To throw whatever was within reach. To hurt him the way he had hurt me. Instead, I sat there, hollow and silent.
“I love you,” he said, trying again. “Only you. What happened with Natalia was a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
My voice shook when I finally spoke. “She’s carrying your child. And you’re calling that a mistake?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “And we’ve already talked it through. Once she gives birth, the baby will be yours. You’ve always wanted a child, Althea. Since you can’t have one, this is fate giving us a solution.”
Those words hit deeper than any slap.
Since you can’t have one.
I whispered, “You slept with my sister, got her pregnant, and now you expect me to be grateful?”
He dragged a hand through his hair, irritation flashing across his face. “Stop overreacting. This way, I finally get to be a father.”
Natalia suddenly began to cry, her shoulders shaking dramatically. “Vincent… look what I’ve done. I’ve ruined everything. My own twin hates me.”
I snapped. “Enough, Natalia. Drop the act.”
She gasped, crying harder. “I—I should leave.”
Vincent’s voice turned cold. “Stop it. You’re upsetting her. No wonder you can’t give me a child.”
That sentence shattered what little was left of me.
He softened immediately, as if that could erase it. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want the baby hurt.”
“Fine,” I said quietly. “Then I want a divorce.”
His face drained of color. “What did you say?”
Behind him, Natalia’s lips curved in a satisfied smile.
“I want a divorce.”
“Althea, please,” Natalia said, fake sympathy dripping from every word. “We’re family.”
Vincent shook his head. “You don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
“All this because of one mistake?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something threatening. “I’m Vincent Ramirez. If you leave, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll drag you back. And I’ll destroy that vineyard you love so much.”
My blood ran cold.
The vineyard—forty hectares of vines, barrels, legacy. My parents’ entire life. The last thing they left me.
“Why?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why are you doing this to me?”
“You brought it on yourself.”
Tears streamed down my face. “You humiliate me, move her into my home, threaten everything I love—what else do you want from me?!”
“That baby will be ours,” he said. “Why can’t you just be happy?”
Happy.
Something inside me finally broke clean. I wiped my face and forced my voice steady. “I overreacted,” I said. “I’ll stay… for now. Just give me time.”
Vincent smiled and kissed my forehead.
That night, I slept curled up on the floor of the guest room, sobbing until my chest ached. Upstairs, Vincent was with Natalia—in the master bedroom. My bedroom.
I mourned my parents. I mourned my marriage. I mourned the woman I used to be.
When there were no tears left to cry, I reached for my phone and made a call.
I contacted the one man who despised Vincent as much as I did—the only person he truly feared.
His older half-brother.
Percival Ramirez.

















