The Unwanted Wife and Her Secret Twins

Irena opened her eyes to an unfamiliar ceiling. A sharp, tearing pain ripped through her lower body the moment she tried to move. She sucked in a harsh breath. Her stomach rolled with a violent wave of nausea, and her throat felt like it was coated in dry sand.

She pushed herself up on her elbows. The heavy silk blanket slipped down her chest. The cold air hit her skin, making her shiver. She looked down. Her pale skin was covered in dark red marks. Her brain stopped working. Her lungs forgot how to pull in air.

Then, the memories hit her. They did not belong to her. They crashed into her skull with the force of a physical blow. Images of a life she had never lived played behind her eyes. She saw a cruel father. She saw an old, disgusting man she was supposed to marry. She saw a desperate plan. She realized she was no longer in her own body. She had woken up in the body of a woman named Irena.

She turned her head slowly. The mattress dipped next to her. A man was lying there. His broad back was facing her. The muscles under his skin were tense even in sleep. She recognized the sharp line of his jaw and the dark hair from the memories that had just forced their way into her mind. This was Evertt Barton. The heir to the Barton family. The man this body had trapped into marriage.

Irena grabbed the edge of the silk blanket and pulled it up to her chin. Her knuckles turned white. She needed to think. The memories told her that last night, both of them had been drugged. It was a powerful chemical. The empty glasses on the nightstand and the clothes torn and thrown on the floor were the physical proof of what had happened.

Evertt shifted. His eyebrows pulled together in a deep frown. His thick eyelashes fluttered. He was waking up.

Irena stopped breathing. She pressed her back against the large headboard. She kept her eyes locked on his face. She watched the exact moment consciousness returned to him.

Evertt opened his eyes. For one second, they were cloudy. Then, the haze vanished. His dark eyes turned into solid ice. A visible wave of anger radiated from his body. He sat up fast. He did not care that the blanket fell away from his waist. He turned his upper body and glared down at her.

He let out a short, harsh laugh. The sound scraped against the quiet room. "Another cheap trick, Irena?" His voice was low and rough. "You think slipping something into my drink again will secure your place as Mrs. Barton?"

Irena met his stare. The original owner of this body would have cried. She would have shaken with fear. Irena did not. She kept her facial muscles completely relaxed. Her eyes were clear and steady.

"If I were going to drug you," Irena said, her voice dry but completely calm, "I would not do it in my own private suite where I have no way to defend myself."

Evertt did not listen. The muscle in his jaw ticked. He threw the blanket off his legs and stepped onto the thick carpet. He walked across the room and picked up a dark robe from the floor. He shoved his arms into the sleeves and tied the belt tightly around his waist.

He walked over to the small bar in the corner of the room. He grabbed a crystal glass and filled it with ice water. He drank it all in three large swallows. He was trying to flush the remaining heat of the drug from his blood. He was trying to cool his absolute rage.

Irena used this moment to look around. The room was huge. The furniture was heavy and expensive. The physical evidence of their night together was everywhere. A torn piece of lace. A broken cufflink.