Finding My Genius Twins And Vengeful Wife

The scream that tore from Brianna Webster's throat was swallowed by the cracked ceiling of a backwoods delivery room-a place so remote that no one would hear her die.

Another contraction seized her, a merciless wave of fire that started in her spine and crushed her entire body. Her sweat-slicked fingers clawed at the stained sheets.

Where was Seraphina? She had promised to come. The thought surfaced through the agony-Seraphina, the sister of her heart, the stray she had taken in when the world had given her nothing. Brianna had given her a home, paid for her schooling, trusted her with every bruised secret. And Seraphina had found this hidden clinic, so far from prying eyes, to protect Brianna's reputation. Unmarried and pregnant, Brianna would be ruined if a whisper escaped. Sisters protected each other. That was what they did.

"You're doing so well, Brianna. Just breathe."

Seraphina's voice cut through the fog, smooth as silk. Her hand dabbed a cool cloth on Brianna's forehead-so tender, so loving.

Brianna tried to smile through cracked lips. "Sera... thank you for coming."

But through the haze of exhaustion, she saw it. Seraphina's back partially turned. Her fingers deftly adjusting the drip line on the IV bag.

Cold dread sliced through Brianna.

"Sera? What did you do?"

Seraphina turned. Her smile was perfectly in place-but her eyes were chips of ice. "Just a little something to help you relax, darling."

She leaned in close, her breath a sweet, poisonous whisper against Brianna's ear.

"You didn't really think Dad would let a bastard like you have this baby, did you?"

Brianna blinked. "What?"

"Did you never wonder," Seraphina purred, "why a stranger would be so kind to you? Why I let you take me in like a lost puppy?"

Brianna's blood went cold.

"I'm not an orphan, Brianna. I never was." Seraphina's smile widened, cruel and triumphant. "My mother was your father's mistress. I am his daughter. His real daughter. The legitimate one. You were just a placeholder-until I was ready to take what was always meant to be mine."

The words didn't make sense. Her father had welcomed Seraphina into their home with open arms. Had he known all along?

"You've been used," Seraphina whispered. "From the very first day. Every kind word I ever said to you was a lie. Every smile, every secret we shared-I was only waiting for the right moment to destroy you."

Brianna's heart shattered.

"That night," Seraphina continued, savoring each word. "The one you've tried so hard to forget. We found a toothless, filthy old beggar for you. Paid him fifty dollars to crawl on top of you. I stood in the doorway and watched-heard every sound you made."

Seraphina's laughter was soft and delighted. "Oh, I simply enjoy watching you carry that shame. Believing a beggar touched you, ruined you-when the truth would have been so much kinder. But where's the fun in that?"

Brianna couldn't speak. Every memory of that night was fog and terror. She had never known what was real. And Seraphina had fed the nightmare, let her choke on it.

"And guess who helped me plan it all?" Seraphina's lips brushed Brianna's ear. "Our dear father."

A choked sob.

"And your mother's death?" Seraphina added, almost as an afterthought. "That was part of the plan too. She had to go before she could expose us."

Brianna looked desperately toward the doctor and nurse at the foot of the bed. Their expressions were blank. Their silence was consent. The death certificate was already signed. Her body was already destined for the mountain-left for the wolves.

The heart monitor shrieked.

A final pressure built inside her. Her body, acting on pure instinct, gave one last push.

A faint, weak cry.

Her baby.

The doctor lifted a small, pale form.

Seraphina clamped her hand over the infant's mouth and nose.

The weak crying stopped.

Brianna watched her child's face go still. Watched the life drain out of him before her eyes.

"NO!" The scream tore from her throat-but it was too late. Her baby was gone. Murdered. By the woman she had called sister.

My child. My baby boy. He never even opened his eyes.

Tears streamed down her face, but she had no strength left to fight.

Seraphina's smirk was pure venom. She lifted the limp, tiny body by one arm, her expression one of utter disgust, and handed it to the doctor.

"Do whatever it takes," she commanded coldly in a whisper. "Make sure this brat stays alive."

For a split second, something flickered in her eyes-not grief, but calculation. This bitch really did have good luck. She had escaped the beggar Seraphina had arranged for her and stumbled into that powerful man's room instead. Brianna had no womb of her own. No way to birth an heir. If she wanted to secure her position, to hold onto the man of status, she needed a child. And this one-fathered by a man whose power could reshape her entire future-would serve perfectly.

Then she turned to Brianna's motionless form. "And this one? Dump her in the mountains. Let the wolves have her."

She turned and glided out without a backward glance.

My son is dead. The thought consumed Brianna. She killed him. Right in front of me.

The coldness that flooded her had nothing to do with the drug. It was the absolute zero of despair.

The doctor moved toward her, a syringe in his hand. This was it. The end.

Suddenly, the door burst open. A younger man in scrubs rushed in. "Dr. Albright? My shift started ten minutes ago. I'm here to take over."

The older doctor looked annoyed. "Fine. She's all yours." He tossed the syringe onto a metal tray and left.

The young doctor rushed to Brianna's side. His eyes swept the room-the pre-signed death certificate, the empty body bag.

His fingers found her pulse. "Your vitals are crashing, but you're alive."

Then he glanced at her abdomen. Froze.

His hand pressed against her belly. His eyes shot open.

"My God," he whispered. "There's another one. Twins. They missed it."His conscience would not let him stand idly by.

He ripped the IV from her arm and shut off the monitor. He worked with frantic urgency. The world was a blur, but Brianna clung to his words.

Minutes later, a second baby was born-smaller, scrawnier, the one who wasn't supposed to exist. But he let out a tiny, gasping cry. A thin, defiant thread of life.

The doctor wrapped the infant in a clean sheet and thrust him into Brianna's arms.

She looked down. A tiny, perfect face. A tuft of dark hair. Small, clenched fists. One hand had caught the edge of the sheet, holding on.

He was real. He was alive.

But his brother... his brother is dead. Murdered by Seraphina while I watched.

The image burned into her memory: Seraphina's hand over her baby's face. The crying stopping. The limp, tiny body being lifted like garbage.

Hate-pure, undiluted, all-consuming-ignited in her chest. But beneath it, something else. A promise.

She killed my child. She will pay.

"They think you're dead," the doctor said, his voice low and urgent. He pressed a bundle of clothes and a thick envelope into her trembling hands. "The death certificate is signed. They're planning to dump your body in the mountains tonight. No one will ever look for you. Which means no one will ever find you-if you disappear. Take this cash. It's all I have. I became a doctor to save lives, not to bury a woman who still has a chance to fight."

Brianna couldn't speak. She nodded-a fierce, desperate motion.

She slid off the table, agony shooting through every muscle. She bit her lip, tasting blood, and cradled her son closer.

I will survive. My son will survive. And Seraphina-

-one day, I will make her pay for what she took from me.

She stumbled toward the back door, pushed it open, and disappeared into the raging storm of the New York night.