My Late Husband Faked His Death, So I Fell for His Twin

On the eve of the wedding, I found my husband, who had supposedly died in a shipwreck, kissing my sister in public under the guise of his twin brother. I tore his shirt open like a madwoman. When I saw the familiar birthmark below his collarbone, I completely broke down. He wasn't the one who died. Just to be with my sister, he faked his death, turning me into a mourning joke. But when I suffered a severe miscarriage and sent him my final plea for help, he never showed up. Later, for my sister's sake, he forged a will to steal my inheritance. He even dragged me out of my hospital bed after I was kidnapped and beaten to a pulp. "Chloe slit her wrists! If she dies, you're going down with her!" Looking at the man I had loved for eight long years, I suddenly smiled. "Sure." "Let's see Lucas Sterling's wife die right in front of you." *** **Claire Vance POV** The private chapel of the Sterling estate was bathed in a harsh, cold white light. The air smelled faintly of decay and incense. I knelt on the cold marble floor, dressed in a simple, rough black dress, my face pale. In the silver frame, Lucas's handsome but perpetually cold face was frozen in black and white. Lost at sea, no body found. That was the devastating news the Sterling family received three days ago. "Claire, stand up. You've been kneeling here for a day and a night." Arthur Sterling, Lucas's grandfather, walked in leaning on his cane, supported by a butler. Looking at my exhausted state, his eyes softened with pity. "Lucas was unfortunate, but he wouldn't want you to destroy yourself like this." I didn't move. I slowly raised my head, my bloodshot eyes dead and hollow. "Grandpa, I've made up my mind. Since Lucas is gone, my heart is dead too. I want to enter a convent. I'll spend the rest of my life alone, praying for him every day." "No!" Arthur slammed his cane onto the floor with a dull thud. "You're only twenty-four! Your life has just begun. The Sterling family will never allow this! Even though Lucas is gone, you are still my granddaughter. Once this passes, I will find you a good man..." "Oh, what a dramatic performance." A beautiful, mockingly sweet female voice came from the doorway. My spine stiffened. I turned around. Chloe Vance walked in, wearing a perfectly tailored, form-fitting black dress. She didn't look like she was here to mourn; she looked like she was attending a gala. Clinging to her arm was a tall man in a sleek black suit. It was Julian Sterling, Lucas's twin brother. He shared an almost identical face with my late husband. The only difference was that Lucas was always cold as ice, while Julian carried a playful smirk. But right now, this "Julian" stood expressionless, looking at me with a faint, deep-seated disgust. "Grandpa, don't let my sister fool you," Chloe said, leaning into the man's chest as she walked over. "She talks about entering a convent, but she's probably scheming how to get her hands on Lucas's estate. After all, she drugged Lucas just to crawl into his bed and force her way into the Sterling family. Would a gold-digger like her really become a nun?" "Chloe, shut up! This is a memorial service!" Arthur roared. But Chloe didn't stop. She tilted her head up, and right in front of everyone—right in front of the memorial portrait—she stood on her tiptoes and pressed her lips against "Julian's." "Julian, tell me, am I right? She's just a hypocrite." The man didn't push her away. Instead, he wrapped his arm around her waist and let out a low, muttered "Yeah." That single sound struck my ears like a bolt of lightning, making my blood run cold. No. Julian's voice was always slightly raspy from years of smoking. But that single syllable just now was deep, cold, and carried the natural, commanding weight of an alpha. That was... Lucas's voice! I scrambled up from the floor, nearly collapsing because my legs were numb from kneeling. I stared at the man, my heart hammering so hard against my ribs it felt like it would burst. "You..." My finger trembled violently as I pointed at him. Seeing this, Chloe smirked with satisfaction. "What's wrong? Jealous of how much Julian loves me? Lucas is dead, Claire. No matter how much you play the grieving widow, he's not coming back." Rage, absurdity, and a terrifying realization exploded in my mind. Like a madwoman, I lunged forward, grabbed the man's collar, and ripped it down. *Rip!* Two buttons popped off, exposing his broad chest. And there, right beneath his left collarbone, was a reddish-brown, coin-sized birthmark! All the strength drained from my body. I stumbled back, shaking my head in utter disbelief, tears finally spilling over. Julian was born prematurely. His skin was flawless, without a single mark. But Lucas had a birthmark right beneath his collarbone. As his wife, I had kissed that exact spot countless times in the dark. I could never mistake it! The one who died in the shipwreck was Julian! And the man standing in front of me, pretending to be his twin brother just so he could openly love Chloe, was my husband, Lucas! To be with Chloe, he went so far as to erase his own existence, faking his death for three days! "Crazy bitch, what are you doing!" The man shoved me away and quickly pulled his shirt together. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before being replaced by cold, burning rage. I collapsed onto the icy marble floor. Watching him protectively shield Chloe, I let out a sharp, hysterical laugh. Enter a convent? Pray for him? Claire Vance, you are the biggest joke in the world! *****Claire Vance POV** The night was pitch black, and a wild storm was rattling the floor-to-ceiling windows of the villa. I curled up on the cold king-sized bed, drenched in cold sweat. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through my lower abdomen, as if a dozen dull blades were twisting inside my flesh. Memories of my three-year marriage flashed through my mind like a horror movie. Lucas had always been cold as ice to me. Yet, when Chloe casually complained on Snapchat that she wanted key lime pie from a bakery across town, he would drive through a torrential downpour to get it for her. Lucas never remembered my birthday. But for Chloe's birthday, he rented an entire yacht just to make her smile. I used to think it was just him looking out for my younger sister. Now I realized it was blatant, shameless favoritism. The signs were always there; I was just too blind to see them. "Ah..." Another wave of agony hit me. I curled tighter into a ball. I felt a warm, thick liquid flowing down my thighs, staining the white sheets crimson. The baby. Lucas's and my baby. I was only two months pregnant. Terror seized my chest. Shaking, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my vision blurred by tears and sweat. I opened Snapchat and found his contact. Even though he was going by "Julian" now, the number was still his. [Help me... The baby...] The sending sound echoed sharply in the silent room. I stared at the screen, clinging to it like a dying lifeline. I waited for what felt like hours, but there was no reply. The screen slowly went dark. My hand slipped from the edge of the bed. Despair washed over me like a suffocating black tide. I knew he saw it. But he didn't care. He didn't even care about his own child's life. Blood kept flowing, soaking through the mattress and dripping onto the floor, blooming into horrifying red puddles. The pain grew so intense that I lost consciousness, rolling off the bed and crashing hard against the cold floor. I lay in a pool of my own blood, my eyes staring hollowly at the lightning splitting the night sky. My heart, along with the tiny life inside me, died completely on that stormy night. It wasn't until the next morning that a maid pushed the door open to bring breakfast and let out a blood-curdling scream. "Oh my God!" I was rushed to the hospital. My life was saved, but the baby was gone. The doctor told me with pity that due to the massive blood loss and the delay in rescue, it would be extremely difficult for me to conceive again. I listened, my face completely blank. I didn't even shed a single tear. Three days later, I insisted on leaving the hospital and returned to the Sterling mansion. I sat on the balcony of my bedroom like a living corpse, staring blankly at the sun. "Oh, Claire. I heard you had a miscarriage?" Chloe pushed the door open, a smug, satisfied grin plastered on her face. "How tragic. Lucas just died, and you couldn't even keep his only child. Don't you think this is karma?" I slowly turned my head, staring at the face that looked so much like mine but was filled with pure venom. I stood up, grabbed the hot mug of tea from the table, and threw it right at her! "Ah!" Chloe shrieked as the mug shattered against her shoulder, the scalding liquid soaking her designer dress. "Get out." My voice was raspy, sounding like sandpaper, and my eyes glared at her like a demon crawling out of hell. "You are not welcome here. Get the hell out!" "You crazy bitch, how dare you hit me!" Chloe raised her hand, ready to strike back. "Stop!" A voice barked from the door. Lucas rushed in, pulling Chloe behind him and frantically checking her for burns. Once he saw she was fine, he glared at me, his eyes like daggers. "Claire Vance, have you lost your mind?! Chloe came here out of kindness, and you attacked her! Where are your manners?!" I stared at the man. The husband I had lived with for three years was now standing in front of me, using his brother's identity, screaming at me to protect another woman. I suddenly burst out laughing, tears streaming down my face. "What did you say, Lucas...?" I dragged out his real name on purpose, satisfied to see his pupils shrink in shock. "I lost my husband. I lost my baby. While I was fighting for my life, what were you two doing?" I pointed at my own chest, my voice cold and accusing. "I had no husband to help me, no one who cared! Am I supposed to just sit here and let you two bastards walk all over me?!" He opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out. "Let's go..." Lucas practically dragged Chloe out of the room, his hurried steps looking incredibly pathetic. *****Claire Vance POV** The study in the Sterling mansion smelled heavily of cedarwood. I sat on a wooden chair, my back straight, though I had grown so thin that a gust of wind could have blown me away. "Grandpa, I want to leave the Sterling family," I said, my voice flat, without a single ripple of emotion. "For three years, I did my best. Now that Lucas is gone and the baby is dead, I can't stay in this house anymore." Arthur looked at me and let out a long, heavy sigh. He knew the events of the past few days had broken me. "Claire, the Sterling family has failed you." Arthur's eyes grew red. He pulled a check from his drawer and slid it toward me. "If you want to leave, I won't stop you. Go somewhere else and start over. Here is ten million dollars. It's a small compensation from me. It'll be enough for you to live comfortably." I looked at the check and didn't refuse. I needed money to cut ties with this place completely. "Thank you." "Wait a minute!" The study door was violently kicked open. Chloe marched in on her high heels, followed by a dark-faced Lucas. "Grandpa, why are you giving her so much money!" Chloe pointed at the check, her voice shrill. "Lucas has only been dead for a few days, and she's already taking the cash and running! The Sterling fortune belongs to Julian, the only surviving heir. Why does she get ten million?!" Arthur slammed his hand on the desk in a fury. "Who are you to speak in my study?! Claire is Lucas's widow! What is wrong with giving her compensation?!" "Grandpa, Chloe is right." Lucas stepped forward, shielding Chloe. His cold eyes swept over me. "Since Lucas is dead, she is no longer a Sterling. Not a single penny of this family's money should go to an outsider. This check stays here." I looked at Lucas, the last ember of warmth in my heart freezing into ice. To secure the fortune for Chloe, he was willing to strip his own wife of everything, using his "brother's" identity to rob me of my rightful compensation. "Julian, if Lucas could see how you are treating his widow, what do you think he would say?" I sneered, my gaze cutting like a poisoned blade. Lucas swallowed hard under my stare, but he forced himself to remain cold. "If Lucas were alive, he would see through your gold-digging ways. You're not getting a single dime." In the end, with Lucas's stubborn interference, I couldn't take the check. I said nothing. I just gave Lucas one last, deep look, turned around, and walked out of the study. Late that night. I was parched, so I threw on a cardigan and went downstairs to get some water. As I passed the guest bedroom on the first floor, the door was slightly ajar. A faint light peeked through, and I could hear Lucas speaking on a Snapchat voice call. My feet froze. "...I know what you're thinking, but I just can't accept it," Lucas's voice was muffled and filled with frustration. The person on the other end seemed to be a close friend. His voice leaked from the speaker. "Lucas, faking your death to take Julian's place is a wild move. But I really don't get it. Chloe is pretty, sure, but she's greedy, arrogant, and spoiled. How does she compare to Claire? Claire is gentle, sweet, and she loved you to death. What more did you want?" I stood outside the door, holding my breath, my fingers digging into the drywall. Yes, I wanted to know too. Where did I lose? *****Claire Vance POV** Inside the room, Lucas took a deep drag of his vape, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke. His voice carried a complex weight. "What do you know?" Lucas scoffed. "Eight years ago, when I was kidnapped and escaped, I fell through the ice into a freezing lake. Chloe risked her life to drag me out. If not for her, I'd be dead. I owe her my life. I'd give her anything to repay that debt." Outside the door, it felt as if a bomb had gone off in my head. Repaying a debt? Eight years ago, during that freezing winter, I was the one who plunged into the icy lake to save that drowning boy. I ended up with a fever that lasted three days and nights, almost dying. But when I woke up, my parents forced me to keep quiet. "Claire, your sister has always been sickly and fragile. She can't handle hardships. That boy clearly comes from a wealthy family. Let Chloe take the credit for saving him. We are begging you. This is about your sister's future happiness!" Because of my parents' favoritism, Chloe stole my credit and became the savior Lucas held closest to his heart. It was her golden ticket into the Sterling inner circle. "And after that?" his friend on the line asked. "If you loved Chloe, why did you end up marrying Claire?" Lucas's voice turned incredibly disgusted, as if he were speaking of something filthy. "If she hadn't been so shameless as to drug me, do you think I would have married her?! That night, I was supposed to meet Chloe. But I drank a glass of wine Claire handed me, and I blacked out. When I woke up, she was in bed with me. Grandpa forced me to marry her to save the family's reputation. Women who use dirty tricks to climb the social ladder make me sick!" I bit my lip so hard that the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. Drugged? So that was what he believed! Three years ago, at that gala, Chloe was jealous of how popular I was at the office. She secretly slipped a drug into my glass, planning to have some old creep ruin me. But Lucas had accidentally picked up my drink. When the drug kicked in, Lucas was in agony. To save him from a public scandal, I took him to a hotel room. That night, I happily gave myself to the man I had secretly loved for years. I thought it was a night of passion and love. I never knew that in Lucas's eyes, it was a calculated trap! So that was it. The root of all his hatred lay here. I leaned against the cold wall, tilted my head back, and let out a silent, bitter laugh. To save him, I lost my dignity. For love, I lost myself. For our marriage, I lost my baby. And in the end, my husband saw me as a scheming, disgusting snake. While the real culprit—the one who stole my credit and drugged the drinks—was the angel he cherished above all else. I suddenly realized that some truths could never be explained away. In his heart, I was already cast as the villain. And Chloe, even if she climbed over my dead body, would always be his innocent, fragile little girl. Chloe stole everything from me, and Lucas punished me as if I were his worst enemy. What a blind, foolish man. I've had enough. I turned and drifted upstairs like a ghost. That night, I didn't shed a single tear. My heart had turned completely to ash. *****Claire Vance POV** The next morning, the first rays of sunlight pierced through the mist and into the Sterling estate. I knocked on Arthur's study door. I was wearing a simple beige trench coat. I was thin, but my eyes were remarkably clear and resolute. "Grandpa." I sank to my knees before the old man. "Claire, what are you doing? Stand up!" Arthur gasped, rushing over to help me up. I stayed down, looking up at him. "Grandpa, I have one request. Help me fake my death. I want to leave the Sterling family, and this city, forever." Arthur froze, shock and confusion filling his clouded eyes. "Fake your death? Claire, why would you do this? Even if Lucas is gone, you don't have to..." "Grandpa!" I cut him off, my voice trembling but filled with a desperate finality. "As long as I am alive, as long as I carry the title of Lucas's widow, some people will never let me live in peace. I lost my baby, and I won't lose my life here. Please, help me!" I didn't expose Lucas's identity. That was the last bit of respect I chose to leave for the Sterling family. Looking at the despair in my eyes, Arthur let out a long sigh. He had lived long enough to know the dark undercurrents of this house. He looked as if he had aged ten years in a single second. "Alright. I promise you. I will personally arrange everything. No one will know." With Arthur's promise, I stood up and bowed deeply. Before leaving, I needed money. I couldn't take Arthur's cash, but I still had an inheritance my grandmother had left me. The most valuable part of it was a set of vintage sapphire jewelry. That afternoon, wearing sunglasses, I quietly went to the city's most exclusive underground auction house. "Miss Vance, this set is exquisite. We can set the starting bid at five million dollars," the appraiser said respectfully, adjusting his glasses. "Get it on the auction block as soon as possible. I need cash," I said flatly. "I'll take that set." A shrill voice cut in. Chloe strutted over like a proud peacock, flanked by several burly bodyguards. "Claire, this is Grandma's legacy. How could you just sell it off like trash? Why don't you sell it to me instead? I'll give you a million." Chloe stared at the sapphire set, greed flashing in her eyes. "No," I replied coldly. "This is my personal inheritance. It has nothing to do with you." "Your inheritance?" Chloe giggled, covering her mouth as if she had heard a hilarious joke. "Claire, are you confused? Everything you have belongs to the Sterling family. What could possibly belong to you?" The atmosphere turned tense. The auction house staff looked at each other, too afraid to intervene. Just then, the heavy doors opened. Lucas's personal assistant marched in with several men in black suits. "Miss Vance." The assistant handed me a document with an expressionless face. "This is the last will and testament of Mr. Lucas Sterling. Before his passing, he legally decreed that all his assets, including marital property and any assets under your name, are to be inherited solely by Miss Chloe Vance." It felt like a physical blow. I stared at the document. With trembling hands, I took the so-called "will." The paper was crisp, and at the bottom, Lucas's bold signature was clear. My finger brushed against the ink. It was still slightly wet. This wasn't a pre-existing will! This was a document Lucas had signed just moments ago to strip me of my last hope of survival, all to please Chloe! He was truly ruthless. "Do you see it clearly now, Claire?" Chloe snatched the sapphire jewelry from my hand, tilting her chin up triumphantly. "Lucas protects me even from the grave. How are you going to fight me?" I looked at Chloe, then at the expressionless assistant. A wave of physical nausea washed over me—a reaction to the sheer ugliness of human nature. "Fine," I whispered, letting my hands fall to my sides. My voice was like a wisp of smoke. "If he wants to drag his own dignity through the mud like this, I don't want it anymore." I turned around, kept my spine straight, and walked out of the auction house without looking back. Lucas, since you've gone this far, we are completely, utterly done. *****Claire Vance POV** The news of what happened at the auction house reached Arthur's ears almost instantly. "You greedy snake!" In the grand living room of the Sterling estate, Arthur threw the damp, forged will directly at Chloe's face, shaking with rage. "How dare you forge Lucas's will to steal family assets! Bring me the whip!" The butler stepped forward holding a heavy leather whip soaked in brine. Chloe turned pale and fell to her knees. "Grandpa, I didn't! This was Lucas's real wish! Julian can prove it!" "Still lying!" Arthur raised his cane to strike her. "Stop!" Lucas rushed in like a gust of wind, shielding Chloe in his arms and taking the blow from Arthur's cane on his own back. He grunted in pain, then looked up, his eyes proud and cold. "Grandpa, the will is real. Before Lucas died, he explicitly told me to leave everything to Chloe. If you want to beat someone, beat me. I'm your only grandson left!" Arthur looked at the young man, his heart nearly giving out from rage. He pointed his trembling finger at Lucas, unable to find his voice. "You... you two..." Meanwhile, in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. The air was thick with the smell of iron and mold. I was suspended from a wooden beam, my hands tied securely behind my back. My thin trench coat had been shredded to pieces, and blood was dripping from my clothes onto the cold concrete floor. A phone was propped up on a crate in front of me, live-streaming the chaos in the Sterling living room. *Crack!* Another heavy lash landed on my back. "Ah..." I bit my lip hard, refusing to scream. Cold sweat and blood blurred my eyes. "How many is that?" a heavy-set man sitting on a ragged couch asked, puffing on a cigar. "Ninety-eight, boss," the thug swinging the whip panted. "One more to go. Miss Vance, don't blame us," the boss said, walking over and patting my pale cheek with his smoky fingers. "Blame yourself for crossing Miss Chloe. She said however much humiliation she suffered at the estate today, she wanted it paid back on you tenfold. Ninety-nine lashes. Not one less." I slowly opened my eyes, my gaze hollow, devoid of any signs of life. So that was it. Chloe suffered Arthur's anger, and because Lucas couldn't bear to see his precious Chloe upset, they had me kidnapped so they could take out their frustration on my "useless" body. *Crack!* The final lash landed, tearing open another wound. My vision went black, and I passed out completely. When I woke up again, I was greeted by the blinding white lights of a hospital. "The patient has multiple severe soft tissue lacerations with a high risk of infection. Combined with her recent miscarriage, her body is extremely weak. Her condition is critical," the doctor's voice drifted in from the hallway, laced with frustration. "She cannot handle any more trauma. Otherwise, even God won't be able to save her." The door pushed open, and Arthur walked in, his eyes red and swollen. Seeing me wrapped in heavy white bandages with only my eyes exposed, tears poured down his face. "Oh... what did I do to deserve this!" With trembling hands, Arthur slipped a manila envelope under my pillow. "Claire... this is your new identity. Passport, plane ticket, and a Swiss bank account. The PIN is your birthday. A car will pick you up tomorrow morning at 3:00 AM. I'm going to arrange your transfer paperwork now. You must hang in there!" I blinked weakly, a tear slipping down my temple. "Thank you... Grandpa." Arthur wiped his eyes and hurried out to finalize the documents. But barely minutes after he left, the hospital door was violently kicked open. Lucas burst in, his eyes bloodshot like a rabid beast. Ignoring my bleeding bandages, he grabbed my hospital gown and dragged me off the bed. "Claire Vance, stop playing dead! Chloe slit her wrists because of you! She's in the ER right now! If anything happens to her, you're going to pay with your life!" The violent pulling tore my back wounds wide open. Blood quickly seeped through the white hospital gown. I gasped in sheer agony, lacking even the strength to struggle as he dragged me down the corridor like a broken doll. ***