I Stole My Twin Brother's Bride

Lily POV

The cavernous corridor leading to the grand altar was lined with towering marble columns and stone-faced armed guards.

My hand rested on Jasper's arm, and beneath the fine fabric of his suit, I could feel the steady, calm rhythm of his breathing.

Before we could reach the main doors, a woman stepped out from the shadows to intercept us.

It was Vanessa.

She wore a crimson dress that was entirely too revealing for a traditional Syndicate wedding.

I knew exactly who she was—a ruthlessly ambitious associate connected to the Family's money-laundering fronts.

Her eyes raked over me before dismissing me completely.

She locked her gaze onto Jasper's face with a knowing, predatory gleam.

She knew him for what he was beneath the fine Italian wool.

After a brief, calculating stare, a triumphant smirk twisted her painted lips.

"Congratulations, Lily," Vanessa purred, emphasizing the name Julian Blackwood with dripping sarcasm.

"You really secured a powerful mafia husband today."

Her words struck me with the force of a physical blow, and for a moment, my stomach seized as if I had swallowed a shard of ice.

She was mocking me right to my face, fully convinced I had chosen the wrong twin and sealed my own doom.

I remembered Julian's past excuses—how he always claimed Vanessa was just an unstable associate stressed by the FBI heat.

But the vivid flashes of my nightmare had shown me their sick wager in an underground speakeasy.

If I chose wrong today, Julian would use Jasper's identity to run the European cartel routes with Vanessa for three months.

They thought I was a fool, but I decided to let them dig their own graves in the eyes of the entire Syndicate.

I flashed a cold, radiant smile at her.

"Thank you, Vanessa," I said smoothly.

"I hope you get exactly what you deserve."

Her smirk faltered for a fraction of a second.

Without giving her another glance, I pulled Jasper toward the grand doors, my grip on his arm unyielding.

The brass-bound oak doors swung open, and a somber, liturgical strain of orchestral music filled the vaulted space.

The grand altar was surrounded by hundreds of hardened Capos and Soldiers, a sea of tailored suits and concealed weapons.

The towering screens flanking the altar displayed the intertwined crests of Shaw and Blackwood.

My name and Julian's name were written in bold gold letters.

I walked down the aisle, feeling the weight of a thousand dangerous eyes on me.

I looked toward the front pews.

Julian and Vanessa were sitting shoulder-to-shoulder.

They were blatantly disrespecting the sacred ceremony by whispering to each other.

Jasper led me up the velvet-lined steps to the altar.

The Syndicate Priest began the ancient, sacred vows in Latin.

I stood nestled against Jasper's chest, feeling the radiating heat of his body shielding me from the predatory crowd. His heartbeat beneath my palm was slow and steady—the calm before a storm that would either crown me or destroy me.

I cast a sideways glance at the pews, and a sickening flash from the dream assaulted my mind.

Julian kissing my earlobe, whispering that he finally owned me.

My stomach churned with nausea.

When Julian's eyes finally met mine from the pews, a primal instinct seemed to kick in.

He abruptly dropped Vanessa's hand, as if suddenly remembering he was supposed to be the spectator today.

He awkwardly rubbed his jaw, trying to mask his sudden panic.

Vanessa glared at her empty hand, her eyes darkening with a toxic, uncontrollable rage.

The Priest finished the final blessing, his voice echoing as he commanded the groom to kiss the bride to seal the blood oath.

A silence fell over the room, so profound one could have heard a pin drop.

I remembered Julian specifically ordering the Priest to skip the kiss today—he had been disgusted by the thought of his brother touching his property.

Julian's entire plan was built on Jasper acting as a passive, silent stand-in.

Shattering the quiet, a woman's voice suddenly cried out from the pews. It was Vanessa, on her feet, breaking Omertà and every unspoken rule of respect.

"Kiss her! Let's see the happy couple seal the deal!" Vanessa taunted, her voice echoing off the high ceilings.

The hardened Capos and Soldiers in the crowd began to holler and instigate, pounding their fists on the wooden benches, demanding the tradition be honored.

Julian violently yanked Vanessa back into her seat.

He roared at the crowd to shut up, but his authority was slipping fast as the room descended into chaos.

I looked up at Jasper. I could see the hard line of his throat as he swallowed, a difficult motion that forced a heavy breath down into the confines of his starched collar.

He was waiting for me to pull away—waiting for the charade to end.

Instead, I defied them all.

I grabbed Jasper by his dark silk tie, pulled his head down, and crushed my lips against his. The room erupted, but all I could hear was the single, sharp crack of Julian's composure shattering like a bullet through glass.