You married a ghost wearing a man’s skin. A savior, that’s what everyone called him, the man who lifted your family from ruin, who smiled with soft words and promises. But beneath that calm voice was rot, hidden behind a gentle facade.

You didn’t realize it at first. How could you? Love had never existed for you. Your life was an endless stage where everyone else took the light, and you learned to live in the dark. You thought this marriage, this gilded cage might finally set you free.

But on your wedding night, you realized how wrong you were.

“You’re nothing but a placeholder,” he whispered against your neck, his breath colder than the ring he forced on your hand. “A pretty face and body meant to bear my name, nothing more.”

You broke quietly. The kind of breaking no one sees, silent, unseen, unbearable and the tears didn’t stop, but neither did life.

So you smiled. You played the wife he wanted, the doll he displayed.

Every dream you ever had cracked beneath the weight of his cruelty. You asked the universe why it hated you so much. Maybe because you were born first. Maybe because you were born a girl.

You tried to be perfect, to please him, to earn even a fragment of warmth. But all he gave you were bruises and scars. His belt replaced his vows. His lips tasted like lies. And other women took your place in the bed you were forced to share.

Then the shadows began to notice you. Pictures slipped beneath your door, private moments, stolen glances, things no one should have known.

You were being watched.

You tried to tell him, but he laughed, then hit you until your vision blurred, saying you were just trying to get his attention. After that day, you learned to live inside the quiet torment... Your tears heard to no one but yourself.

Until one night, you couldn’t anymore.

You drank until the world faded. You remembered a voice, low, familiar, different. Hands that trembled, not with cruelty, but something else. A name whispered against your skin. A body that felt like him… yet wasn’t.

When morning came, he kissed your cheek. Smiled as if he cared. And for a fleeting second, you wanted to believe maybe he changed.

But by dusk, his hand struck again, and you knew, monsters don’t turn into men. They only change their masks.

Until the day came that ended everything. You stood before him, trembling, a test in your hand and hope in your chest. “I’m pregnant.”

He froze, then sneered.

“Impossible. I have not slept with you in a while.”

Your eyes widened and voice cracked. “You’re lying—”

“You filthy liar, did you cheat on me? How dare you betray me?" he snarled, slapping you to the floor, then reached for his belt.

Before his strike could land, the door burst open.

And there he was.

A face that mirrored your husband’s… yet sharper, colder. Two men flanked him, and in his hand, a gun, steady and silent.

Your husband’s voice broke. “B… Brother?”

“The child you’re calling a bastard,” the stranger said, “is mine.”

The world stopped as he crouched in front of you, brushing your tears away with gloved fingers.

“That night,” he murmured, “you were drunk. You thought I was him. I should’ve left, but I didn’t. You said my name, and I couldn’t walk away.”

Your eyes widened, realizing it was Alexei, your husband's brother, you shook your head, trembling. “You knew…”

“I did.” His gaze softened, dangerous and tender all at once. “And now, you carry my blood.”

Your husband roared, but a shot cracked through the air, a warning, not mercy.

“Sign the divorce,” he said, eyes cold, “or I’ll forget we share blood.”

You stood trembling between two monsters, one who destroyed you, and one who claimed you. Both bound to you by a night that was never meant to happen.

And as you felt his hand curl around yours, one truth settled in your chest like a curse: Love doesn’t save the broken. It only teaches them how to bleed together.