Chapter 2

• Yasmin
• “It had been five years since she went missing. Now the Gomez family would have to give everything to the second daughter.”
• The voices carried over the soft hum of chatter as I stood frozen near the grand hall’s entrance, clutching my gift box with trembling fingers. I hadn’t been eavesdropping—at least not intentionally, but the story the two women shared had intrigued me.
• I couldn’t seem to pull myself away from the two ladies, dressed up for Loretta’s birthday, catching up on the news while staring intently at their phones.
• “Can you imagine? The handing over happens tomorrow. Mr. Gomez is finally letting it go, knowing full well they just might never see her again,” one of them said. “Unless, of course, the missing first daughter miraculously returns. Now that would be a spectacle!”
• A lump formed in my throat. Something about their words felt eerily familiar. My instincts screamed at me to turn away, to forget their gossip and walk into the hall, but my legs felt rooted to the spot.
• It was a few minutes to nine, and I knew Cole would be mad if I came even a minute late to the intended time.
• Just as I managed to smooth my dress and summon the courage to move, a voice sliced through my resolve.
• “Need company?”
• My stomach churned. I didn’t need to turn to know who it was.
• “Go away, Marcus,” I muttered under my breath, my tone laced with exhaustion, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
• Cole’s twin brother was a man whose presence I despised. His voice alone grated on my nerves. Though they were twins, Marcus and Cole were as different as night and day.
• Where Cole was composed, cold, and refined, Marcus was rough around the edges, his presence carrying a dark, chaotic energy that made my skin crawl.
• But Marcus Martinez, the unidentical twin of my husband, wasn’t one to back down easily. He stepped closer, his cologne invading my senses. I could almost feel his smug grin without looking.
• “Now, now,” he drawled, “is that any way to greet your favorite in-law?”
• “You’re far from my favorite,” I snapped, finally turning to face him.
• I turned back toward the hall, attempting to ignore him, but his firm grip on my arm stopped me mid-step.
• Irritation bubbled up in me, forcing me to gather everything within me not to yell at him.
• “What now?” I snapped, unable to contain the agitation while I whirled to face him. His smirk was as arrogant as ever, his gaze shamelessly scanning me from head to toe.
• Marcus leaned casually against the doorway, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. It was infuriating how he exuded charm despite his venomous nature.
• People were blind to his true self—the scheming, bitter twin who thrived on causing chaos.
• I couldn’t shake off the fact that something wasn’t right about the setting. How could Marcus and Cole be twins yet so different? Extremely different.
• “You know exactly what I want, Yasmin,” he said, his voice low and mocking. “You.”
• My stomach churned in disgust. “You’re delusional. I’m your brother’s wife. Have some respect.”
• “Respect?” He laughed bitterly, his tone dripping with resentment. “You mean the brother who doesn’t even acknowledge your existence? Walk in there, Yasmin. See if anyone recognizes you as the wife of the enigmatic billionaire. They only know one woman - Sarah. His first and only love.”
• The words hit like daggers, each one a harsh reminder of the reality I tried to ignore. My throat tightened, but I refused to let Marcus see how much he’d hurt me.
• I swallowed hard.
• “Now I see why everything was taken from you - because you weren’t good enough,” I shot back, my voice steadier than I felt.
• His smirk faltered, replaced by a flash of anger. I’d struck a nerve. “And yet,” he countered, stepping closer, “you weren’t good enough to keep him, either.”
• I groaned, my fists clenching, which of course he noticed.
• “Your sweet little pussy couldn’t stop him from totally ignoring your existence every single damn day. You should let me worship that pet. Then you can tell me afterward whose dick you wished was buried deep inside you - mine or your estranged husband’s.”
• My hand moved before I could stop it, the slap echoing louder than I intended. His cheek reddened, but he didn’t retaliate. Instead, he chuckled darkly as I turned on my heel and marched into the hall, my pulse pounding with anger and humiliation.
• If only I could just go away from all of this shit!
• Why was my life such a mess? I had survived perfectly well the past three years when Ashford was alive. He had made me see reasons to fight for Cole, but now, with practically everyone against me, I couldn’t help it.
• I walked into the hall, trying hard to compose myself. The grand hall was suffocating. Crystal chandeliers hung above, casting a cold, sterile light over the crowd of elites mingling and sipping champagne. My eyes darted around, searching for Cole, but instead, I was met with another wave of hostility.
• Loretta, my mother-in-law, approached with her signature look of disdain.
• “Yasmin,” she sneered, her sharp gaze scanning me from head to toe. “How utterly... shabby. I knew my late husband was wrong to think you were suitable for my son.”
• The second wave of humiliation washed over me like clockwork.
• I forced a smile and bowed my head slightly, keeping my voice calm despite the knot tightening in my chest.
• “Happy birthday, Mother. I’m sorry if my attire offends you, Mum. I can go change if—”
• “Don’t bother,” she interrupted, her hand dismissively cutting through the air. “Since you're already here looking like the help, you might as well make yourself useful with the waitstaff.”
• Her words stung, though they didn’t surprise me. Loretta had hated me from the moment I married Cole, and she never missed an opportunity to remind me of my place—or lack thereof—in her family.
• “I’m sorry, but I don’t think that would be appropriate,” I replied, clutching the small gift box I’d spent weeks selecting with Victor, the family butler—the only one who seemed to respect me. “What would people think if they saw Cole’s wife working as a waitress at his mother’s party?”
• She scoffed, her lips curling into a cruel smile. “Look around, Yasmin. Does anyone here even know you’re his wife? You clearly don’t exist.”
• I bit the inside of my cheek, gripping the gift box tighter as she turned to leave.
• “Happy birthday,” I blurted out, extending the box toward her.
• Before she could respond, a soft voice chimed in from behind me.
• “Happy birthday, Loretta.”
• I turned, and my heart sank.
• Sarah.
• She floated into the room as if she belonged, her presence commanding everyone’s attention. Loretta’s face lit up as Sarah hugged her, handing over a beautifully wrapped gift. But it wasn’t just Sarah’s presence that made my chest tighten—it was the man standing beside her.
• Cole.
• He stood tall and composed, his hand resting protectively on Sarah’s lower back. My throat went dry as I watched him, inadequacy washing over me in waves.
• I turned away, attempting to give her the gift and leave them.
• "I bought you a gift..." I whispered to Loretta, but my voice was drowned out by Loretta's laughter as she unwrapped Sarah's gift.
• “You got me the latest edition from the Gomez luxury brand?” Loretta exclaimed, holding up the elegant watch for everyone to admire.
• My stomach dropped. That was the same gift I had chosen. I’d entrusted Victor to find the perfect piece, and now it seemed Sarah had beaten me to it—or worse, stolen the idea.
• “Only the best suits a woman of your status, Mother.”
• Mother?
• Oh wow. She already made herself a family. I turned to go, but Sarah's words stopped me.
• Sarah turned to me, her smile syrupy and condescending. “Oh, I guess you’re Yasmin,” she cooed, feigning innocence. “You brought a gift too? How thoughtful. Why don’t you give it to Loretta?”
• How thoughtful? What guts.
• The attention of the entire room shifted to me. My palms grew clammy, and I hesitated, suddenly hyper-aware of every judging gaze.
• “There’s no need,” I began, my voice barely steady, but Cole’s voice cut through behind me, colder than I’d imagined.
• “No need to give my mother a gift you bought with my money?” he said, his tone razor-sharp.
• Before I could respond, Loretta snatched the box from my hands. She unwrapped it hastily, her expression shifting from disdain to amusement.
• Gasps rippled through the crowd as Loretta unveiled the gift. An identical watch to the one Sarah had just given her.
• A suffocating silence followed, broken only by Loretta’s sharp, mocking laugh.
• “You can’t be serious,” she said, “Stealing Sarah’s idea? How utterly pathetic.”
• My cheeks burned as murmurs swept through the room like wildfire.
• “I didn’t steal anything,” I said quietly, my voice trembling despite my best effort to stay composed.
• Loretta raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a sneer. “Of course you didn’t,” she mocked, waving the box in the air. “It must be a coincidence that you, of all people, managed to gift me the same item as Sarah. Really, Yasmin, your desperation is evident.”
• The room buzzed with hushed whispers, each one a dagger to my pride. I clenched my fists, swallowing the lump in my throat as I struggled to hold on to any shred of dignity.
• “This is exactly why you’re no match for my son!”