At my Parents Funeral, My Husband Knocked Up My Twin Sister Novel – Chapter 1 The day I buried my parents, two people who should’ve been there weren’t—my husband, Vittorio, and my fraternal twin sister, Nadia. Their absence right next to me felt louder than any prayer the priest said over the grave. My folks died together. The sea took them. My dad had planned a short island trip for my mom, a rare break from the estate they’d given their lives to. It was supposed to be romantic. Quiet. But the sky turned nasty without any warning. A storm ripped across the water and flipped their boat before it ever reached land. When the Coast Guard finally pulled them out, they were still holding hands—like love alone could’ve kept them from going under. I was still standing at the family mausoleum when my phone buzzed.
A text. From Nadia. I opened it without thinking. The picture on my screen knocked the air right out of me. Vittorio was down on one knee in front of her, pressing his lips to her swollen belly like it was something sacred. Like it was everything. Underneath the photo she’d written: Guess who’s finally gonna be a dad? My hands shook so bad I almost dropped the phone. No. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some sick joke. A lie. Then a second image loaded. Any last shred of denial I had left? Gone. Nadia stood in front of my bedroom mirror, wrapped in my silk robe, holding her phone up for a selfie. And behind her, sprawled across the bed I shared with my husband, Vittorio was sleeping like he didn’t have a care in the world. I couldn’t breathe. My husband had knocked up my twin sister. Nadia had always been trouble. The wild one. Self-centered, impulsive, always chasing drama. My parents spent years shielding her from the consequences of her own stupid choices while I stayed behind, helping run the estate, carrying the weight on my back.
But after I married Vittorio, she changed—or pretended to. She started copying me. My clothes. My perfume. Even how I styled my hair or held a wine glass. I used to brush it off as her looking up to me. Now I finally got it. She wasn’t imitating me. She was trying to replace me. The tears came fast and hard. My legs gave out and I dropped to my knees right there in front of my parents’ grave. The dirt was still loose, still fresh. I fell apart sobbing, my tears soaking into the earth right in front of them. I’d noticed little things before—the looks that lingered too long, the quiet smiles, the way conversations would die the second I walked into a room. But I refused to believe that the two people I trusted most could stab me in the back this badly. My phone buzzed again. This time, it was Vittorio. “Sorry I couldn’t make the funeral,” the message read. “Something urgent came up. We need to talk when I get home.” I already knew exactly what that conversation was going to be about.
That evening, Vittorio walked through the door with Nadia right beside him, suitcases in her hands like she already lived there. “She’s staying with us,” he said gently, like kindness could somehow wash away the filth of what he’d done. “Nadia’s scared to stay alone at your parents’ house. She’s pregnant. It’s not safe.” Nadia gave me a smile so sweet it made my stomach turn. “I’m really sorry, sis. I asked Vittorio to wait, but the baby’s gotta come first. You get it, right? We’re twins. I know the timing’s awful… especially with Mom and Dad just gone.” I stared at the floor, my chest so tight it hurt to breathe. Vittorio kept pushing. “She’s your sister. Your own blood. You wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to her.” I wanted to scream. Throw whatever I could grab. Hurt him the way he’d hurt me. But instead, I just sat there, hollow and silent. “I’m crazy about you,” he tried again. “Only you matter to me.
What happened between me and Nadia was a total blunder. It’ll never repeat itself.” My voice shook when I finally spoke. “She’s carrying your baby. How can you possibly write that off as just a mistake?” “Yes,” he said flatly. “We’ve already sorted all this out. Once she gives birth, the child will be yours. You’ve always longed for a baby, Alessia. Since you can’t bear one yourself, this is fate granting us an answer.” Those words cut deeper than a harsh slap. Since you can’t bear one yourself. I whispered, “You slept with my sister, got her pregnant, and now you expect me to be grateful?” He dragged a hand through his hair, annoyance flashing across his face. “Stop overreacting. This way, I finally get to be a father.” Nadia suddenly burst into tears, her shoulders shaking like she was in some bad movie. “Vittorio… look what I did. I ruined everything. My own twin hates me.” I snapped. “Enough, Nadia. Drop the act.” She gasped and cried even harder. “I—I should leave.” Vittorio’s voice went ice-cold. “Cut it out. You’re upsetting her.
No wonder you can’t give me a child.” That sentence shattered whatever little was left of me. He softened immediately, like that could somehow make up for it. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just don’t want the baby to get hurt.” “Fine,” I said quietly. “Then I want a divorce.” All the color drained from his face. “What did you say?” Behind him, Nadia’s lips curled into a satisfied little smile. “I want a divorce.” “Alessia, please,” Nadia said, fake sympathy dripping from every word. “We’re family.” Vittorio shook his head. “You don’t mean that.” “I do.” “All this because of one mistake?” He stepped closer, his voice dropping into something dark and threatening. “I’m Vittorio Marchetti. If you leave, I’ll hunt you down. I’ll drag you back. And I’ll burn that vineyard you love so much to the ground.” My blood ran cold. The vineyard—forty acres of vines, barrels, legacy. My parents’ whole life’s work. The only thing they left me. “Why?” I asked, my voice cracking. “Why are you doing this to me?” “This is all your own doing.” Tears poured down my cheeks. “You’ve shamed me, let her move right into my house, and endangered every single thing I care about — what more could you possibly demand from me?!” “That baby is going to be ours,” he said. “Why can’t you just be happy?” Happy.
Something inside me finally broke clean in two. I wiped my face and forced my voice steady. “I overreacted,” I said. “I’ll stay… for now. Just give me some time.” Vittorio smiled and kissed my forehead. That night, I curled up on the floor of the spare bedroom and cried until my chest ached. Upstairs, Vittorio was with Nadia—in the master bedroom. My bedroom. I mourned my parents. I mourned my marriage. I mourned the woman I used to be. Once I’d cried myself dry, I grabbed my phone and made a call. I reached out to the one man who loathed Vittorio every bit as much as I did—the only person Vittorio was genuinely terrified of. His older half-brother. Damiano Romano.