My Husband Twins Brother Claimed Me

The pregnancy test stick was still warm in my hand. Two pink lines. Twins. My head slammed against the bathroom tiles. Kaine’s voice boomed from the bedroom. “Amaka! The matriarch is here. Come out now.” I shoved the test into my jeans pocket. My hands shook. Kaine and I had only done it once. Three weeks ago. The night of our rushed wedding. The night he was drunk and angry and said I looked like someone else. I opened the bathroom door. Kaine Okoro stood in our Port Harcourt penthouse bedroom, wearing a Tom Ford suit. My husband of twenty one days. He didn’t look at me. He looked past me, at his phone. “Mama is waiting in the living room,” he said. “She wants to talk about the annulment.” The word hit my chest like a stone. Annulment. “What?” My voice cracked. “Kaine, I’m—” “Don’t start.” He finally looked up. His eyes were cold. Empty. Not the eyes from our wedding night. “Mama found out about your father. The debt. The whole of GRA is talking. I can’t be tied to a scammer’s daughter.” My father wasn’t a scammer. He was a civil servant who took a loan to pay my mother’s hospital bills. But the Okoro family didn’t care about truth. They cared about headlines. I walked into the living room. The air conditioning was too high. I was sweating. Mrs. Theresa Okoro sat on the white leather sofa like she owned the world. Maybe she did. She owned half of Port Harcourt real estate. She wore a lace bubu worth more than my father’s yearly salary. Her eyes scanned me from my cheap slippers to my uncombed hair. “So,” she said. No greeting. “You are the girl my son was tricked into marrying.” Kaine stood behind her like a bodyguard. Not my husband. Her son. “Mama, I didn’t trick anyone,” I said. My hand went to my pocket. The test stick dug into my palm. “Kaine asked me to marry him.” “He was drunk!” Theresa snapped. “You took advantage. Now the blogs are saying Okoro heir married a commoner. A nobody from Diobu. Do you know what that does to our stock price?” I looked at Kaine. Say something. Defend me. Tell her you wanted this. He stared at the floor. “You will sign the annulment papers today,” Theresa continued. She snapped her fingers. A lawyer in a grey suit appeared with a file. “You will get five million naira. That’s generous. Take it and disappear from Port Harcourt. If you ever tell anyone you were married to my son, we will bury your father in debt.” Five million. The price of my life. I thought of the two pink lines in my pocket. Twins. Kaine’s children. Or were they? The night of our wedding flashed in my mind. Kaine was drunk, yes. But he kept calling me “Lila”. He kept saying “you came back to me”. I thought it was a pet name. I thought he was being romantic. “Sign it,” Kaine muttered. Still not looking at me. My tears came hot and fast. I wasn’t crying for him. I was crying for the babies. For the girl who thought a billionaire could love her without reading the fine print. I took the pen. The lawyer smiled. The front door crashed open. Every head turned. He walked in like a storm. Same face as Kaine. Same height. Same expensive suit. But this man was different. His eyes were alive. Dangerous. And they were locked on me. “Kaine,” the man said. His voice was deeper. Rough. “Why is your wife crying?” Theresa stood up so fast her gold bangles clattered. “Zayn. You were supposed to be in Lagos.” Zayn. Kaine’s twin brother. The one who was exiled to Lagos five years ago after a fight with their father. The one everyone said was deadlier than Kaine. Zayn ignored his mother. He walked to me. He took the pen from my shaking hand and dropped it on the floor. “Who told you to sign anything?” he asked me. Not Kaine. Me. His scent hit me. Spice and rain. My stomach flipped. And not because of the pregnancy. My wedding night. The dark room. The drunk whispers. “Lila, you came back.” Zayn. It was Zayn that night. Not Kaine. The test stick in my pocket felt like fire. Twins. Zayn’s twins. Kaine finally looked up. “Brother, this doesn’t concern you. She’s my problem.” “She’s carrying my children,” Zayn said. The room went silent. The lawyer dropped his file. Theresa’s mouth opened. I couldn’t breathe. He knew. How did he know? Zayn stepped closer. His finger brushed my cheek, wiping a tear I didn’t feel fall. “Did you think I wouldn’t come back for you, Lila?” Lila. That name again. “I’m not Lila,” I whispered. “My name is Amaka.” Zayn smiled. It wasn’t kind. “I know. But you have her eyes. And now you have my babies.” Kaine lunged. “You bastard! You set me up!” Zayn caught his brother’s fist mid air. “I didn’t set you up. You married her to spite me. You married her because Dad said Lila was my weakness. But you didn’t know Amaka was pregnant that night, did you?” Theresa screamed. “Security!” Zayn turned to me. His eyes softened for one second. “Can you run?” I didn’t think. I nodded. He grabbed my wrist. “Then run.” We ran. Past screaming Theresa. Past frozen Kaine. Past the lawyer scrambling for papers. We burst into the Port Harcourt sun. Zayn’s black G-Wagon was waiting. He pushed me inside and slammed the door. As we sped away from the Okoro mansion, I clutched my stomach. “Where are we going?” I asked. “Lagos,” Zayn said. His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “And you’re not signing any annulment. You’re my wife now.” “But I married Kaine.” “You married the wrong brother, Amaka. Tonight, you marry the right one.” My phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number. _“I know you’re pregnant. Come back alone or your father dies tonight. – K”_ I looked at Zayn. He was staring at the road, jaw clenched. He didn’t know yet. He didn’t know Kaine just declared war. And I was carrying the reason.