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Slept with one Twin...and Fell for the Other
Slept with one Twin...and Fell for the Other

Slept with one Twin...and Fell for the Other

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Bellamy finally runs. From the bruises. From the lies. From a marriage that stopped being safe a long time ago. She ends up in a bar, alone, scared-and somehow, in the arms of a stranger who doesn't ask questions. One night. No names. Just heat and quiet and a moment of feeling wanted. The next morning, she shows up for a job interview that could change her life. And sitting across the table? Him. Only now there are two of him. Twin brothers. One is cold and unreadable. The other acts like nothing ever happened. She doesn't know which one she spent the night with-or which one is about to turn her world upside down. And when a positive pregnancy test shows up, Bellamy's fresh start gets even more complicated.

Bad-ass
Delicate
Romance
Triple Pleasure
Mr. Player

Chapter 1

Dec 9, 2025

Bellamy POV

“Don’t ever let a man raise his hand to you, Bells. Not once. Not even halfway. You hear me?”

My father’s voice always came soft like that. Gentle, but firm. Like a promise wrapped in thunder.

I remember his hands, big and warm, cupping my face when I was just eight. We were watching a movie—some princess story—and I asked him if love meant crying. He said no. He said real love doesn’t hurt. And if a man ever hurt me, even once, I should run.

Run, Bellamy.

But running is hard when you’re trying to hold a marriage together with broken pieces.

“Where the hell is my food?!”

His voice ripped through the silence the moment I pushed the front door open. I had one grocery bag clutched in my arms, keys still dangling from my wrist. I didn’t expect him to be here. His car wasn’t outside. He wasn’t supposed to be home.

I blinked, heart crawling into my throat. “You’re home early…”

He stepped into the hallway like a shadow growing too fast. Gray slacks, white shirt unbuttoned at the collar, his belt looped loosely in his hand. His face already twisted in rage. “Where the hell were you, huh? Out meeting some boytoy behind my back?”

I clutched the bag tighter. The apples inside rolled against the plastic. “I just—I went to the market. You said we needed fresh stuff—”

“I ASKED for food. Not excuses.”

He threw the belt across the floor. It landed near the stairs. I flinched anyway.

“You’re always running errands. Always out. You sure you’re going to the market? Or are you out there, smiling at other men like a desperate little slut—”

“I’m not,” I whispered, but my voice was already trembling. I hated the way it sounded—thin, ashamed. Weak. “I go to the market. I come home. That’s all.”

He scoffed and started toward me. His hands were fists now. “Why do you need mascara for the damn market then, huh?”

“I didn’t wear—”

“Liar.”

He shoved past me into the kitchen. Cabinets opened. Slammed. Drawers rattled. “You couldn’t boil rice? Couldn’t even fry an egg? You had all day, Bellamy!”

“I was out—”

My voice cracked again. Too soft. Always too soft.

He turned around slowly, eyes scanning the counter like a predator looking for a weapon. And then he grabbed the glass vase. The one with the fake orchids. My favorite. My father gave me that vase the day I moved in with him. It was the only thing I have left of him.

“DON’T,” I begged.

But he already lifted it. His arm pulled back.

And that’s when I heard it. Not the shatter—not yet. I heard my father’s voice. Loud. Clear. Like thunder in my ribcage.

“If a man so much as thinks about hurting you, you run. You pack your heart and run like hell.”

The vase flew.

I ducked. It smashed into the wall behind me. Glass rained down like stinging stars.

I didn’t think. I didn’t breathe. I just moved.

The grocery bag dropped from my arms. Apples rolled across the floor. Eggs cracked against the tiles.

He was still yelling. Screaming. But his voice sounded far now. Underwater. My heart had already taken the wheel.

I ran.

Out the door. Down the stairs. Into the street barefoot. My left heel hit a shard of gravel, but I didn’t stop. I didn’t feel.

Behind me, his voice thundered down the porch.

“Get BACK here, you ungrateful—”

I didn’t look back.

Not once.

Because my father’s voice was louder now. And it was saying one thing:

Run, Bellamy. Run.”

Slept with one Twin...and Fell for the Other

Slept with one Twin...and Fell for the Other

30 Chapters

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