My Husband Was His Twin

On the day Aurora Bennett turned one, she felt the universe itself bowed to her whims.

The Hayes brothers, two formidable presences, had waged a silent war for her affection for years. Sebastian Hayes, the elder, carried himself with a quiet, magnetic authority. He was polished, his every gesture measured and graceful. His younger brother, Xavier Hayes, was all raw energy and unchecked passion. He was volatile, honest to a fault, and utterly relentless.

For eighteen years, their rivalry was the backdrop of her life. It was a contest fought with grand gestures and subtle manipulations. In the end, Aurora’s choice settled on Sebastian. He became her anchor, her husband.

But one night, everything tilted.

As they lay together, Sebastian’s lips brushed her ear. His voice was a low, intimate rasp. “Darling.”

The word froze her blood. It was a name only Xavier had ever called her. A name tied to memories she had locked away.

Confusion swamped her. As he moved to rise, her hand shot out, fingers closing around his wrist. Her voice was a shaky whisper. “Who are you? Sebastian or Xavier…?”

He turned. Amusement and something darker flickered in his eyes. He seemed to savor her disorientation.

“Rory, even though he’s my brother, it stings when you think of him,” he said, his tone light but edged with possession.

Then he was gone, disappearing into the bathroom. The sound of running water pulled her back into a past she desperately wanted to forget.

The Hayes name meant power in Chicago. Sebastian and Xavier, identical in face, were opposites in soul. Sebastian was the chosen heir, groomed since nineteen. He was the picture of aristocratic perfection.

Xavier was chaos incarnate. He was unforgiving, fierce, and born to defy. His reputation for trouble was legendary.

Their competition for Aurora was a spectacle. Sebastian would offer her champagne at parties. Xavier would “accidentally” knock the glass from her hand. Sebastian would save her a seat. Xavier would steal it just as she sat down.

Despite Xavier’s fierce pursuit, Aurora felt nothing for him but unease. His intensity felt like a cage. Sebastian’s calm devotion felt like safety. His confession of love felt like destiny.

Everything shattered when Xavier lost. Refusing defeat, he spiraled. In a final, desperate act, he took her. He stole her away to the frozen cliffs of Norway, holding her captive for a month. To him, she was a prize to be claimed.

Sebastian’s rage was a force of nature when he found her. The brothers clashed violently on those icy shores. In the struggle, Xavier fell. The dark, cold sea swallowed him whole.

That memory was a ghost, always lurking.

The bathroom door opened. Steam billowed out. Sebastian emerged, perfectly dressed, every inch the commanding heir.

“Rory, everyone’s waiting downstairs for my birthday. I’ll go play host. Take your time,” he said. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. The familiar gesture soothed her frayed nerves.

After he left, she dressed quickly. She forced herself to walk downstairs.

The living room was alive with laughter. She saw him—Sebastian—holding court among friends. A smile touched her lips, then died.

Voices carried, sharp and clear.

“Xav, you were upstairs with your sister-in-law forever. We thought you’d ditched your own party.”

“Man, you played the long game. Three years pretending to be your brother just to get her into bed.”

“You begged her when she picked him. Look at her now. In your bed every night. Giving you everything.”

Aurora’s heart plunged. The room spun. What were they saying?

Her eyes snapped back to the man under the chandelier. His posture was different. A lazy, arrogant sprawl that was utterly familiar. A chill crept down her spine.

Had the man she lived with for three years… always been Xavier?

Before the horror could fully take root, the front door swung open.