Marrying the Wrong Twin

By: Nicole Casey

“Oh!” Adare gasped in shock even though I was sure he had felt me there as much as I had him.

“Hello brother,” I drawled lazily, trying not to depict my over-eagerness to learn what had happened at his luncheon.

“Are you just getting up?” Adare asked, his eyebrows raising in slight surprise.

“No,” I replied honestly. “I’ve been up for a while.”

I just haven’t gotten out of bed.

“Oh.” Adare turned back toward his room as if the conversation was over but I wasn’t done with him.

“Where are you going?”

Adare cast me a wary look.

“I’m going to shower and change.”

It was my turn to be surprised. Suddenly, I could feel the uncertainty in my twin.

“Shower?” I repeated. “Did Dad make you feel that violated?”

Adare didn’t crack a smile and my own faded slightly as I tried to read the expression on his face.

“What happened?” I demanded and Adare exhaled, slumping against the wall near the double doors of my rooms.

“I…” He seemed conflicted as to whether or not to say anything.

“Dare, you can tell me.”

He raised his emerald gaze to meet and match mine, an indecipherable expression on his face.

“It looks like I’m getting married, Rust,” he mumbled.

A wave of shock encased my body and I struggled not to show my dismay in my face.


He shrugged and nodded.

“To whom?”

Adare grunted slightly and looked away.

“The daughter of James Preston.”

My heart began to race as the words sunk into my soul. How long had Dad been trying to merge with JRP, James Preston’s conglomerate? Years, decades maybe.

Looks like he’s finally found a way to make that happen.

I knew what this meant.

It meant that my fight for company control was over.

Dad had chosen Adare.

And I had lost.



It was almost six o’clock but my day wasn’t anywhere close to being finished. I knew I should probably consider eating something but I was far too involved in the paperwork in front of me to break my concentration.

It wasn’t until I heard a knock at the door to my office that I looked up and clued into the fact that the sun was fading into an early dusk beyond the high windows.

“Come in,” I mumbled, turning my eyes back to the Mac PC on my desk.

“Ms. Preston, can I get you anything before I go?” Terry asked from the doorway. She paused before adding, “Maybe something to eat?”

The offer was tempting and I found myself staring at her.

Food can wait. Work first.

“No,” I said. “I’m leaving soon.”

It was a lie. I’d probably end up sleeping at the office again. I wanted to ensure that our marketing and budgeting was on point for the following week on two of our major umbrella companies. It wasn’t really my job but I liked to oversee and foresee problems before they arose.

JPR would be mine one day and then I’d have no choice but to oversee everything anyway. May as well get a head start on matters now.

I probably had weeks to worry about those particular issues but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Plus it kept my mind occupied and that was exactly what I needed. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do anyway but go home and stare at the walls of my under-decorated apartment and wait for the next workday.

“Are you really leaving soon?” Terry asked directly and I met her stare.

“Probably?” I offered, cracking a smile. It hurt my mouth vaguely and I wondered how long it had been since I’d used the expression.

How many days I have been holed up in here?

“It’s not my business, Ms. Preston, but speaking from personal experience, I find that the more I push myself, the worse things flow together. Taking breaks will help clear your mind.”

She was right—it wasn’t her business but I knew she was worried about me. Or at least as concerned as an employee could be about their boss. Terry wasn’t a friend of mine any more than anyone else I knew.

I’d been a lone wolf for so long, I had forgotten what friendship felt like.

“Thanks for the advice, Terry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

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