I’m Elena, 27 years old, an interior designer from Florence. I met Nicolas, the man I believed was destined for me, during a design project in Lake Como. He was elegant, well-mannered, and always said he wanted nothing more than to make me his wife.
I loved him so deeply that I neglected every war:ning sign. Nicolas told me he had to care for his twin brother, Noah, who was born deaf and mute. He lived alone in their family’s old villa by the lake.
I admired Nicolas for his kindness and devotion. One evening, under the amber glow of sunset reflecting on the water, he knelt and whispered:
“Marry me, Elena. I’ll give you peace for the rest of your life.”
I thought I was stepping into a dream but it was the beginning of a nightmare.
THE WEDDING NIGHT
Our wedding was quiet and private. Nicolas insisted his family preferred simplicity. I wore a white lace gown as he led me to the grand villa — silent, ancient, surrounded by fog.
But when I lifted my veil… The man before me wasn’t Nicolas. He looked exactly like him but his eyes were empty, and his lips never moved. My heart froze.
“Where is Nicolas?!” I cried. No one answered. His mother stepped forward, her tone icy:
“From this moment, you are Noah’s wife.
Do not ask questions.”
Before I could react, the doors slammed shut. That’s when I realized that they had deceived me. I had married the wrong man.
Nicolas had used me to fake a marriage for his disabled brother, just to protect the family fortune. That night, I trembled in a corner as the rain lashed against the windows. Noah — my silent “husband” — sat across from me, eyes filled with sorrow.
THREE MONTHS LATER…
I lived like a ghost. Every day, I had to play the role of a devoted wife inside that cold villa. Nicolas vanished after the wedding, sending only occasional envelopes of money.
Noah, though mute, quietly cared for me — setting the table, helping me cook, and leaving small notes written in delicate handwriting:
“Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not like them.”
One stormy night, I woke to loud banging. I went downstairs and saw Nicolas, drenched, his eyes burning with rage. He grabbed me roughly:
“You’re mine, Elena!
No one can have you — not even him!”
I tried to break free, but Noah appeared from the shadows. He pushed Nicolas away and gestured desperately: Run! I heard a struggle behind me – splashing, shouting, then silence.
The story doesn’t end here –
it continues on the next page.
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