Deal

Deal
Mature Content

Ashlyn

I won't allow them to see each other. Not now. Not ever. And I will never give them the chance to be together again. What if Marco suddenly decides to leave me, even though I'm carrying his child?

Yes, he seems genuinely concerned about me and the baby. I see it in the way he touches my stomach, how he asks me if I've eaten, or how he insists I rest. But even with all that, I can't shake the fear gnawing at my chest.

Because I know how much he loved her.

And I know they still love each other.

At any moment, he could walk out the door and never look back.

That's why I've been doing everything. Everything just to monitor them. I've copied their phone numbers, checked messages when he wasn't looking and even synced Marco's calls to my spare phone just to catch any meeting plans between them.

Earlier, Marco received a text from a nurse." My heart pounded as I saw it pop up. I called his number, but… it was already unreachable.

Of course.

He turned it off.

Which only means one thing, he's going to her.

I couldn't let that happen. I called him immediately and told him to come home.

When she told me she was planning to move out to stay in the condo alone, I panicked. I felt something tighten in my chest. What if Marco went to see her and never came back?

However, I couldn't stop my twin without raising her suspicions. So I said yes. I forced a smile and nodded.

Let her think I'm being supportive.

Let her think I'm okay.

But I'll never tell Marco that my twin sister is leaving today. He doesn't need to know. He can assume she's just out running errands.

She's probably upstairs now, packing her things.

Marco had called earlier. Said he was at the office and had to return to a meeting. It only means he didn't go to my twin sister's condo.

I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. I didn't want to stress myself too much, not while I was pregnant. If anything bad happens to the baby, Marco would be furious. And I won't give him another reason to leave me.

I've waited so long for this. A family. A home. A man like Marco.

I won't let some woman destroy what I've built, not again.

I was sitting quietly in the living room when I heard the front door open. Marco. I was surprised, but I hid it with a sweet smile. We talked, and I made sure to act like the perfect wife and soon-to-be mother.

A few minutes later, he said he was going to change clothes. I stayed behind, alone on the couch, pretending to be calm. But my thoughts were spiraling again.

Was he texting her?

Calling her?

I jumped from the couch and headed upstairs.

I searched for him in our bedroom. The bathroom door was open, empty. Then, I saw the light in the walk-in closet. I stepped inside… and froze.

He was holding the phone.

The phone I'd been hiding.

"Marco," I whispered, my voice barely steady.

He turned to me slowly. "Is this yours?" he asked, lifting the phone slightly.

I forced a smile and took it from his hand. "Oh… no. It belongs to one of my coworkers. I was supposed to return it, actually. She kept calling earlier, and I couldn't answer. I didn't want her thinking I was snooping."

He frowned slightly. "Really? I thought it's yours but I don't remember you having this model."

I held my breath as he turned around, uninterested, and started changing into his home clothes.

I exhaled quietly. That was too close.

I had no choice but to stick to the story now. I changed into different clothes, too, pretending I was really about to head out and return the phone. He didn't need to know who it actually belonged to.

I left the house through the front door, then quickly circled to the back, a route I often took when I didn't want to be seen leaving or arriving. I knew every inch of the mansion. Every guard's routine. Every staff member's location.

At that hour, only the gate security was active. The maids were either in their designated rest lounge or gathered by the outdoor hut.

I crept back upstairs, straight to her room, my twin's room.

And what I heard made my blood boil.

Moans. Whimpers. Pleas.

Lust-filled, intimate noises that stabbed into my heart like blades.

I clenched my fists, fighting every urge to burst in and confront them. I wanted to throw the door open and scream, to make a scene, to be the broken, devastated wife. But I knew better.

I knew Marco was already preparing to leave me. I'd seen the messages, the legal documents, the quiet calls he thought I didn't notice.

I needed to stay composed. I needed to play this game smart.

But then I heard it.

Those words that shattered me.

"Yes, sweetheart… please…"

My knees nearly gave out.

He never called me that. Never. Not since the accident. Not even when I came home from the hospital, bruised and broken, desperate for him to show he still cared.

But her? She gets the word I longed to hear?

My heart cracked, then burned.

And from that fire came something darker.

To avoid drawing attention, I left quickly, not even looking back. I'd release all this anger somewhere else. After all, there was someone I needed to see.

I booked a ride and asked to be dropped off at a familiar location. From there, I took a pedicab that wound through the back alleys behind the old market. The place reeked of sweat and rust, but I knew it like the back of my hand.

The moment I entered his apartment, his eyes flicked up from his phone.

"Did you come because you heard the news?" he asked.

"What news?" I replied, confused.

"She's gone. You don't have to be afraid of her anymore."

"What? Since when?"

"This morning."

I snapped. "Are you fucking kidding me? Didn't I tell you to wait until after lunch before making any moves?"

He shrugged, unapologetic. "Didn't see your text in time. But hey, it's done. The nurse is really gone now."

I grabbed at my hair in frustration. "You're so damn stupid!"

He narrowed his eyes at me. "Watch your tone. You're not your twin. I only tolerate you because you look like her. And because you're good in bed… and damn good with your mouth. But don't push me. Or you'll regret it, and your little plans will fall apart."

His words sliced through me like ice. I fell silent.

This shameless bastard used my body while calling out my sister's name. I still couldn't understand what made that woman so special. Why did all these insane men obsess over her?

"Speaking of being on top…" he smirked, brushing a hand across my cheek. "Time to do your part. I already did mine."

"You're insane," I snapped, pulling back. "I already told you, I'm pregnant!"

I didn't show yet, but I'd been using that as an excuse, hoping it would make him stop using me like I was disposable.

He laughed darkly. "If someone else hired me for this job, I'd have been paid hundreds of thousands by now. So stop pretending. I know that baby isn't mine."

"Fine," I said sharply. "I'll pay you. Just leave me alone for now."

"Then give me 200,000. Right now."

"What? Are you out of your mind? Where would I even get that kind of money?"

"No money?" he said, pulling off his shirt. "Then pay with your body, again."

The truth? I didn't really mind when he took me like this. He was ruggedly handsome despite living in this slum. He had that raw appeal. Dangerous, wild, masculine. But he didn't want me. He wanted her. My twin. And I still didn't understand what spell she'd cast on him.

I had no choice. I started undressing. He leaned back, watching me like I was a performance just for him. That was usually how it went. He's a sex addict and was willing to do anything for it. He alwasy make me strip while he ran his eyes on me before he would take me. And every single time he came, he'd moan her name.

Now, I was on my knees, giving him head. He gripped my hair tightly, forcing me deeper, not even letting me pause for breath.

Then he suddenly said, "You know… since you're already pregnant, I might as well finish inside."

Before I could react, he yanked himself out of my mouth, spun me around, and entered me from behind. Hard. Deep. Rough.

I cried out, not from pain, but from the rawness of it all. His fingers tangled in my hair as he pounded into me, his other hand slapping my ass hard.

"You dirty little slut," he groaned. "You suck me off like you were born for it. You're such a filthy whore."

He kept going, grunting, thrusting, cursing as if each word made him harder.

He used me several times that afternoon until he was completely spent.

When he was done, I sat up and grabbed my clothes. My voice is cold now. "Find out everything about that woman. I need to know if anyone else knows what she knows."

He leaned against the wall, smirking. "No problem."

"You better do your job right," I told him, slipping my blouse on. "Because once you do, I'll make sure you end up dead with the woman you're obsessed with."

His grin widened, dark and wicked.

"Deal."

With that, I left with a bodyache. I felt sore and tender, but I had to leave. I didn't want to stay in his dirty place.