I Was the Decoy Twin - Chapter 3: Chapter 3
You are reading I Was the Decoy Twin, Chapter 3: Chapter 3. Read more chapters of I Was the Decoy Twin.
Valentina's message lit up my screen again:
[Kev, let's do another photoshoot. When are you free? This time—something fresh. No repeats of my sister's work, got it?]
I switched back to the main account and locked my phone. The wallpaper glared back at me—her dazzling smile, a moment of joy preserved forever. The sheer fabric of her dress revealed a flash of crimson nail polish beneath.
Valentina's signature color.
A dry, humorless laugh slipped out.
I grabbed my burner phone and typed a message to a number etched into my memory—one that might as well have belonged to a ghost now.
[Ten days. They're shipping me to you. Book a one-way ticket out of here and scrub my existence clean. I don't want a trail.]
Kevin's reply was immediate. No hesitation. No questions. Just:
[Done.]
Classic Kevin.
Footsteps hurried toward the door. I pocketed the phone without missing a beat, squeezing my eyes shut as tears soaked into the pillow.
The doctor strode in, ran a quick check, then jabbed me with a painkiller. His tone was steady but left no room for argument.
"She's fragile. Rest is non-negotiable."
The second he left, Kevin slumped into the chair beside me, eyes bloodshot and desperate, staring like I was made of glass. After a weighted silence, he spoke like he'd just swallowed poison.
"For your safety… Tina's taking your place. Mom, Dad, and I will handle convincing her."
His fingers brushed my cheek—gentle, worshipful, like I was some relic on the verge of dust.
"Just survive, Ria. Live as Tina until you heal. It's temporary. I'll fix this."
Every word was a ice pick to the ribs.
I nodded.
His plan and mine had converged. Different motives, same exit strategy. Playing along was the smart move.
Kevin faltered, thrown by my compliance. He'd braced for a fight. After all, Damian was my ex.
I'd made a show of blocking Damian ages ago, right in front of Kevin—proof of my loyalty. A shadow of doubt flickered across his face, then vanished. He exhaled and yanked me into a hug, oozing faux reluctance.
"We're not even apart yet, and I'm already wrecked. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Six months, and you'll be my bride. Yeah?"
His eyes shone with manufactured hope. But underneath? Absolute certainty.
He expected me to melt, to be so dizzy with engagement bliss I wouldn't question a thing.
Three years. I'd fantasized about this moment a thousand ways. Never in a hospital. Never while bandaged and broken.
This wasn't a proposal. It was a shovel digging my grave. But I let the charade stand.
In ten days, Kevin would be a ghost. A six-month wedding? Pure delusion. I forced a lifeless smile. "That's perfect."
Mission accomplished, he hugged me again. His next words were hollow as a drum.
"I was scared you'd say no because of… how you are now. But Ria? I'd never leave you. No matter what."
I slumped against him, too drained to reply.
Let him spin his fairy tale. I knew the ending.
When he finally noticed my silence, it seemed to dawn on him that I was running on fumes. He eased me down, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and whispered,
"Don't stress. I've got it all handled."
Then he left.
Five days later, against medical advice, I checked myself out.
[Kev, let's do another photoshoot. When are you free? This time—something fresh. No repeats of my sister's work, got it?]
I switched back to the main account and locked my phone. The wallpaper glared back at me—her dazzling smile, a moment of joy preserved forever. The sheer fabric of her dress revealed a flash of crimson nail polish beneath.
Valentina's signature color.
A dry, humorless laugh slipped out.
I grabbed my burner phone and typed a message to a number etched into my memory—one that might as well have belonged to a ghost now.
[Ten days. They're shipping me to you. Book a one-way ticket out of here and scrub my existence clean. I don't want a trail.]
Kevin's reply was immediate. No hesitation. No questions. Just:
[Done.]
Classic Kevin.
Footsteps hurried toward the door. I pocketed the phone without missing a beat, squeezing my eyes shut as tears soaked into the pillow.
The doctor strode in, ran a quick check, then jabbed me with a painkiller. His tone was steady but left no room for argument.
"She's fragile. Rest is non-negotiable."
The second he left, Kevin slumped into the chair beside me, eyes bloodshot and desperate, staring like I was made of glass. After a weighted silence, he spoke like he'd just swallowed poison.
"For your safety… Tina's taking your place. Mom, Dad, and I will handle convincing her."
His fingers brushed my cheek—gentle, worshipful, like I was some relic on the verge of dust.
"Just survive, Ria. Live as Tina until you heal. It's temporary. I'll fix this."
Every word was a ice pick to the ribs.
I nodded.
His plan and mine had converged. Different motives, same exit strategy. Playing along was the smart move.
Kevin faltered, thrown by my compliance. He'd braced for a fight. After all, Damian was my ex.
I'd made a show of blocking Damian ages ago, right in front of Kevin—proof of my loyalty. A shadow of doubt flickered across his face, then vanished. He exhaled and yanked me into a hug, oozing faux reluctance.
"We're not even apart yet, and I'm already wrecked. Promise me you'll take care of yourself. Six months, and you'll be my bride. Yeah?"
His eyes shone with manufactured hope. But underneath? Absolute certainty.
He expected me to melt, to be so dizzy with engagement bliss I wouldn't question a thing.
Three years. I'd fantasized about this moment a thousand ways. Never in a hospital. Never while bandaged and broken.
This wasn't a proposal. It was a shovel digging my grave. But I let the charade stand.
In ten days, Kevin would be a ghost. A six-month wedding? Pure delusion. I forced a lifeless smile. "That's perfect."
Mission accomplished, he hugged me again. His next words were hollow as a drum.
"I was scared you'd say no because of… how you are now. But Ria? I'd never leave you. No matter what."
I slumped against him, too drained to reply.
Let him spin his fairy tale. I knew the ending.
When he finally noticed my silence, it seemed to dawn on him that I was running on fumes. He eased me down, pressed a kiss to my forehead, and whispered,
"Don't stress. I've got it all handled."
Then he left.
Five days later, against medical advice, I checked myself out.
End of I Was the Decoy Twin Chapter 3. Continue reading Chapter 4 or return to I Was the Decoy Twin book page.