Chapter 41 The Twin I Never Knew
LEITANA
“So I suggest you start packing your bags now. I want this settled and cleared up as soon as possible,” he said.
I didn’t say anything. I didn’t even move. I just sat on the chair, my back straight, my heart pounding. My eyes kept shifting from my hands… to the person sitting at the far corner of the couch.
Avery.
My twin.
I had wanted to see her ever since the day I heard about her. But now that she was right in front of me, everything felt strange. She didn’t say a word to me. She just sat there quietly. She had looked at me when I first walked in — a look I couldn’t understand — but now she barely glanced my way. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop staring. It felt like I was looking straight at myself… but not exactly. There were little differences in our faces, but we were still identical. She looked like a more refined version of me — the way she sat, the way she carried herself, even her expression. All neat. Controlled. Polished.
But there was something else.
Something deeper.
A sadness.
Heavy. Deep enough that I felt like I could taste it on my tongue. It pulled at me, made me want to reach out and touch her. The urge was so strong I had to grip the chair just to keep myself from standing up.
Then her eyes met mine.
She caught me staring, and I expected her to look away. But she didn’t. She just… looked. And in that moment, I knew I was right. The sadness was there in her eyes — thick, painful, almost grieving. So clear that a chill ran down my spine.
I’ve always been able to read emotions. Feel them. The only person I couldn’t read was him.
Ravial.
But everyone else? I could tell who was honest, who was lying. I could feel fear, just the same way it was swimming in my mother’s eyes. Avery had that fear too — but the sadness was stronger.
“Are you listening to me?”
My father’s voice snapped me out of my thoughts.
I turned to him. He wasn’t pacing anymore. He was staring at me, a thin line of sweat on his brow and his bottom lip. His eyes… they told me everything. He wasn’t a good person. I had known that since the day he first laid a hand on me. But looking at him now, the dark, ugly aura around him was so strong it made my skin crawl.
“Why are you staring at me stupidly? I said you’ll be coming home with us while your sister stays back,” he repeated.
My fingers twisted together. He was the one who forced me into this marriage. Now he was pulling me out like I was a wooden puppet he could drag around however he liked. Talking as if I had begged to take my sister’s place. As if I had chosen this.
“Why?”
My voice came out firmer than I felt.
His hand froze in the middle of wiping sweat from his face. The room was cold from the AC, yet he was sweating like he had run a race.
“What do you mean ‘why’?” he snapped. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say more, then suddenly stopped, let out a laugh, and gave me a look that made my stomach twist. His eyes dragged over my body in a way that made me rub my hand over my bare torso.
“Oh, I see what’s going on here,” he said. “Just a few weeks of being married to him… tasting the good life, the worldly desires… and now you can lie and commit sin without shame.”
His voice turned into a snarl at the end. I flinched, my eyes widening.
I looked at my mother. She said nothing. Her eyes were downcast, like always.
I looked at Avery and she shook her head once. Very small. Almost invisible. It surprised me because her face didn’t change at all.
“He must have spoiled you rotten. And I know you’re untouched… so tell me, has he fucked you?”
My breath caught. My eyes snapped wide open. How could he say something like that?
But he saw my shock and took it as a yes. He laughed.
“Of course you are. For someone who acts all innocent and naïve, you’re far from it,” he said. He looked back at my mother with a twisted smile. “Like mother, like daughters.”
Then his eyes landed on me again.
“I don’t care if he’s had you six ways to Sunday. Just tell me you’re not stupid enough to let him cum inside you. You’re not his wife.”
It felt like a bag of stones dropped into my stomach.
His words kept ringing in my head:
“cum in you.”
“You’re not his wife.”
I didn’t even realize my hand had moved until I felt it, rubbing my stomach, instinctively, unconsciously.
“You stupid little whore,” Father snarled, face purpling. “Not only did you spread your legs for your sister’s husband, you let him come inside you?”
The words hit like a slap. I flinched so hard the chair creaked. He took one furious step toward me, close enough that I could smell the sour sweat rolling off him and I shrank back, bracing for the hand I knew was coming.
“Charles!” Mother’s voice cracked through the room, sharp enough to stop him mid-stride. He whipped toward her, mouth twisted in fury. I didn’t see what she did, maybe a small shake of her head, maybe nothing at all but he looked away from her and spun to the staff hovering in the corners.
“GET OUT!” he roared.
They didn’t move.
Because another voice cut the air first, low, familiar, and colder than the marble under my bare feet.
“You barge into my house uninvited, scream at my wife, and bark at my people.”
Ravial stepped from the shadows of the open doorway. His gaze flicked around, lazy, bored. Then lifted to my father. “I don’t know if it’s stupidity you’re suffering from,” he continued calmly, “or a death wish.”
He checked his watch, almost amused.
“And it’s not even six,” he murmured, voice dry as winter air. “Which means I’m in a very bad mood.”
Without glancing at me, he spoke again, his voice soft, but commanding enough that it sent a shiver down my spine.
“Come here, Little Lamb.”