Pregnant for the wrong twin.

I stood in five-inch heels and a dress too expensive for my bank account, smiling like I belonged at the Stone family’s private gala. Truth was, I didn’t. Not really. I was just the CEO’s girlfriend. Or maybe not even that—depending on how Damian felt today. The ballroom glittered with crystal chandeliers and glass walls overlooking the New York skyline. Waiters in tuxedos floated through the crowd with champagne, while billionaires clinked glasses and whispered mergers like gossip. And me? I was standing alone, pretending not to notice that Damian Stone — my cold, perfect, infuriating boyfriend — was an hour late. Again. He always had excuses. Board meetings. Late calls. Press. But tonight was supposed to be different. Tonight was the first time I’d meet his family. Correction: the first time I’d meet them officially. They’d seen pictures. Heard rumors. But now they’d know: I was the woman on Damian’s arm. Except I wasn’t. Not yet. I shifted on my heels and scanned the room, heartbeat ticking faster with every second of silence on my phone. Still no message. No call. Nothing. I turned back toward the champagne table, frustration bubbling in my throat— And froze. There he was. Damian. Except… no. This man had the same sharp jawline. The same slate-gray eyes. The same sculpted face that could’ve been carved from stone. But his tie was loose. His sleeves were rolled. His smirk? Unapologetically wicked. “You’re not him,” I said before I could stop myself. The stranger leaned in, voice low and teasing. “Is that disappointment I hear?” I blinked. “I’m waiting for someone.” He tilted his head, his eyes dragging slowly — too slowly — down my body. “Must be Damian,” he murmured. “Figures. He’s always late to the good stuff.” My breath caught. “You know him?” He smiled. “We shared a womb.” He extended a hand. “Forsaken Stone. Black sheep. Family disgrace. Pleasure.” I took his hand because I didn’t know what else to do. It was warm, firm, too long to be polite. “Interesting name,” I managed. He stepped closer. “You have no idea.” There was a flicker in his eyes—dangerous, amused, like he knew a secret I hadn’t learned yet. The kind of look that made your skin prickle with warning. Or maybe anticipation. “Why haven’t I heard about you before?” I asked. His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “Because I’m the twin they pretend doesn’t exist.” Just then, Damian’s name lit up on my phone screen. I grabbed it, relief pouring through me. > “Running late. You can leave if you want.” That was it. I stared at the screen like it might say more if I waited long enough. An apology. An explanation. Something. But there was nothing. Just cold efficiency. Like always. I looked up and caught Forsaken watching me. Hard. Like he could see straight through my skin. Like he already knew. “Looks like you got stood up,” he said, and for the first time, there was no teasing in his voice. Only truth. I swallowed hard. “It’s complicated.” “Let me guess,” he said. “You’re his favorite distraction, but never his priority.” The words stung because they were true. I didn’t know how he could see that after five minutes when I’d spent months denying it to myself. I should’ve walked away. Should’ve left with my dignity, my pride, and my heart intact. But instead… I stayed. Because for the first time that night, someone wasn’t pretending. Someone was looking at me like I mattered. And his name wasn’t Damian. It was Forsaken.