Loyalty and Desire: The Twin's Forbidden Attractions

Chapter 2: He hates her.

Before Zoey could react to his words, Evan Abarough drew his ugly, twisted face closer to her, as if he were trying to kiss her. With the darkness in the hallway, she couldn’t see him, but he knew the moment her mind caught on to his actions. She became frantic.

Zoey screamed. Her hands came up and slammed against his chest repeatedly, attempting to push him away from her. Everything she had said about being his wife and willing to spend eternity with him seemed forgotten at that moment. Zoey fought him as if her life depended on it.

“No! Don’t!” she cried in a choked voice filled with fear that echoed against the walls even as her fingers nearly poked him in the eye in her frantic struggle.

Evan jerked his face back to avoid further damage to his face. He didn’t try to draw closer to her face again, but he also didn’t let her go. His body continued holding her prisoner against the wall.

He had known from her first scream when she saw him in the doorway of the bedroom that Zoey Newman was repulsed by his appearance. She proved it now as she fought him like she couldn’t even tolerate the touch of a man who looked like a monster. He had almost hoped he was wrong when she ran after him and grabbed his arm, begging him to stop, but now he saw that he hadn’t been wrong. Zoey was just like any other woman. Vain and full of empty promises.

Anger swelled within him like a living thing and his voice hardened as he asked, “Are you abandoning me?”

Zoey was so afraid she trembled uncontrollably. Tears poured out of her eyes even as she continued to push against his chest, but it was like trying to move a stone wall. She looked up and tried to blink away her tears and see his face, however; the hallway was still too dark even with the dim glow coming from her room several feet away. She couldn’t see him and it took her a second to realize he had asked a question and what it was.

When the words got through her head, Zoey’s struggles stopped. She bit her lip, fighting the tremors in her body, afraid to move and upset him more. Finally, she answered, “No. I’m not abandoning you.”

“But you can’t stand me. You are repulsed by my touch.”

Zoey shook her head vigorously. She swallowed hard. “No. I’m not repulsed by you... it’s just... it’s just that I need some time to get used to this. To get used to you.”

In the dark, Evan snorted coldly, as if he didn’t believe Zoey’s excuse. Then his hands reached out and smoothed the delicate material of her dress down her front over her trembling stomach before they settled on her sides. Calmly he told her, “Since you don’t dislike me. Then you and I can go back to your room for our wedding night right now. There is no better way to get used to a man than in bed.”

Zoey tried to swallow around the lump in her throat. Her heart pounded against her ribs as though it was trying to beat out of her chest. She suddenly felt lightheaded, but shook her head to focus on his words. Zoey was desperate to reason with him and make him stop. She knew it had to happen, but not like this. She wasn’t ready for this.

“We... Today is the first time we are meeting. I want to... want to know you well, and then...” she nervously stuttered through her words, barely making sense even to her own ears.

Unfortunately, the man wasn’t listening. He grabbed the neckline of her dress with both hands and, with one abrupt movement, ripped the front of her dress open.

A gasp of shock escaped her lips. Zoey shivered under the feel of his rough fingers against her smooth skin. Cool air rushed over her now exposed skin, causing goosebumps to form in a heartbeat. Fresh tears slipped down her face. Zoey choked on a sob and made a last-ditch effort to get through to the man.

“Please... don’t do this.”

Evan heard the sorrow and desperation in her voice. He felt her tears splatter onto his hands that still gripped her ripped dress. Her shaking had gotten worse, and he was sure his body pressing against hers was the only thing still keeping her on her feet.

Suddenly, great shame and guilt slammed into him. Evan shook his head and wondered what he was doing. This wasn’t like him. He wasn’t this man who trapped women against the wall and forced himself on them.

A huff of frustration tore out of him. He frowned in the dark at his own actions. And then he let go of her dress and swooped her into his arms before he walked back toward her bedroom.

For a few seconds, Evan couldn’t help but marvel at how delicate she felt in his arms and how she barely weighed anything. Even with the dress, he could feel the heat of her body against his chest and arms. He didn’t miss that she continued to shake as though she were cold. However, as he reached the door, Evan realized her body had gone limp and unresponsive in his arms.

Suddenly alarmed, he quickly walked to the bed and gently laid her down on the sheets. With the light in the room, he could see her clearly now. She had fainted; he realized with a frown as he studied her.

Zoey’s delicate features of youth were stained with tears, like a testament to her emotional turmoil. Her eyes were closed, yet the long, curled lashes that framed them were still adorned with tears that hung there like tiny, glistening jewels in the dim light of the room.

He watched her chest beneath the torn dress as it rose and fell with each shallow breath she took. Evan avoided the temptation to pull the torn material aside and really look at the woman by focusing his gaze back on her face. The sight of a red smear on her bottom lip caught his attention, and Evan realized she had bitten her lip in her moment of fear. Now unconscious and lost in the darkness that offered her peace and an escape, her face was a picture of pure vulnerability. And the sight tugged at his heartstrings.

For a long moment, he watched her. Thinking and wondering what to do and what had brought them all to this moment. Eventually, he turned around and left the room without doing anything.

After leaving Zoey’s bedroom, Evan made his way down a long hallway, deep into the heart of the third floor of the villa. The air grew colder, and the shadows stretched out around him as he approached a room devoid of light, save for a few faintly glowing instruments that cast eerie red and green hues throughout the darkness. A labyrinth of wires snaked out from the machines, leading to a figure lying motionless on the bed.

The man appeared to be asleep, his breathing so faint that it was barely perceptible. He lay there like a lifeless puppet, suspended by invisible threads. As Evan drew closer, the man stirred, emitting a low groan that filled the silent room. It was as if he had been pulled back from the brink of death, his eyes slowly opening to reveal a glint of recognition.

Evan’s gaze fixed on the man’s face, illuminated by the spectral light of the machines. He studied the man’s features, once handsome and strong, now gaunt and withered.

The man in the bed lay motionless, his disfigured face bearing the scars of a terrible ordeal that had left him almost unrecognizable. Burn marks crisscrossed his features, a legacy of a fire that had consumed his life. The skin on his forehead was puckered, the flesh a patchwork of pink and white that stood out against the pallor of his skin. His left eye was slightly sunken, the lid drooping slightly, while the right side of his face appeared to sag, as if the flesh had melted away. Most of the burns had healed, but the scars remained, a testament to the pain and suffering that he had endured and still endured every day.

His voice, when he spoke, was a hoarse whisper, broken and ragged as the night owl howling under the night wind outside. It was the sound of a man clinging to life, his grip tenuous, his spirit barely hanging on.

“Evan, why are you dressed like this? Where’s Zoey?”

The voice took a deep, eager breath that seemed almost like a gasp. “What are you doing here? Are you not supposed to be with your bride in the middle of the night?”

A beat passed as Evan stared down at the man on the bed, then his cold gaze warmed, and he let out a sigh of relief as he gently clasped the bruised hand of the man lying on the bed. Evan knew his eyes were rimmed red with the evidence of the emotional turmoil he was experiencing.

“Brother, you shouldn’t have married Zoey,” Evan said quietly.

The man lying in the bed was Evan’s brother, Ryan. They were twins, with faces so alike that they could be mistaken for each other. But the fire that had ravaged Ryan’s body six months before had left its mark, and now Ryan lay on the bed, a shadow of his former self.

Despite the extent of his injuries, Ryan had managed to cling to life, his fierce determination keeping him going even as his body failed him. But Evan knew that his brother’s time was running out. The burns that covered his body were too severe, and his organs were failing, one by one.

Evan felt a pang of guilt as he looked at his younger brother. It was he who should have been lying in that bed, not Ryan. It had been six long months since the fire that had changed everything. But Evan could still remember the roar of the flames, the searing heat that had engulfed him, the moment when he had given up hope of ever escaping alive. And then, out of the smoke and chaos, came Ryan, his face a mask of determination as he pulled him to safety.

Ryan had sacrificed himself, giving his own life to save Evan from the flames that had engulfed their home. It was an act of heroism that had cost Ryan dearly. The burns that had covered his body had been too extensive, too severe to overcome with even the best medical care. And now it was a debt that Evan could never repay, and the weight of it weighed heavily on him.

In the wake of Ryan’s heroic actions, Evan knew that he had to step up to the plate. He couldn’t let his brother’s legacy fade away, not when there was so much at stake. The Abarough family’s business empire was a force to be reckoned with, a powerhouse of wealth and influence that had been built up over generations. If he didn’t step in and take control, the whole thing would crumble.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make. Evan had always been content to live in his brother’s shadow, to let Ryan take the reins while he worked quietly behind the scenes. But now, with Ryan laying in bed injured, the weight of responsibility fell squarely on his shoulders. He had to be strong; he had to be decisive; Evan had to be Ryan.

It wasn’t just a matter of appearances, either. Evan had to immerse himself in every aspect of the business, from the day-to-day operations to the long-term strategy. He had to make tough decisions, negotiate complex deals, and keep the company on track through even the toughest of times.

But he was determined to see it through. He owed it to his brother, to his family, and to himself. He would do whatever it took to keep the Abarough family business empire stable and strong, even if it meant taking on a new identity and a new role. And a new wife in Ryan’s name.

Evan still had reservations about the last part. Taking Zoey as a wife even in Ryan’s name hadn’t been his idea. And he knew Ryan was aware of his persisting doubts so he wasn’t shocked when Ryan suddenly made an effort and grasped his hand, pleading, “Evan, Zoey is a good girl. She deserves the best man in the world. I’m afraid I won’t live long. Promise me to take good care of her!”

Silence filled the room like a heavy cloud. After what felt like an eternity, Evan’s chilling laughter shattered the stillness. “I hate vain and hypocritical women!” he exclaimed, his words cutting through the darkness like a knife.