The Twin's Last Martian Wish

For five years, I played the part of the devoted wife to a billionaire who despised me. I endured his coldness, his public affair with his mistress Gisele, and every humiliation he threw my way. All of it was a performance, a long game for one single purpose.

On our fifth anniversary, the day my contract ended, I finally collected my deceased fiancé Julian's ashes. His last wish was to have them scattered on Mars, a dream only accessible to me through my marriage to his identical twin brother, Clayton.

With my mission accomplished, I asked for a divorce. But Clayton, the man who had ignored me for half a decade, refused. He laughed, then kissed me with a brutal possessiveness I' d never felt before. "You're not going anywhere," he whispered. "You're mine now."

He dragged me from our sterile penthouse, his eyes burning with a terrifying obsession. He offered me a real marriage, a child, a future I never wanted. He couldn't understand that my heart had always belonged to his dead brother.

When I finally revealed the truth-that our entire marriage was just a means to fulfill Julian's last wish-he didn't let me go. He broke. He abandoned his mistress, begged, and even kidnapped me, convinced he could force me to love him.

"You'll learn to be mine," he snarled, his sanity unraveling as he held me captive on his private jet. "We'll have children. They'll bind us together. You'll never leave me then."

But he was wrong. This wasn't the story of a woman won over by a monster's late-blooming love. This was the story of my escape, and I was finally ready to be free.

Chapter 1

Ada Mcfadden POV:

The words tasted like freedom on my tongue, even as they shattered the illusion he so carefully clung to. "I want a divorce, Clayton."

His laughter, low and dismissive, echoed in the vast, sterile living room. It was the same laugh he used when closing a multi-billion dollar deal, arrogant and utterly confident in his control. He didn't even look up from the financial reports displayed on his holographic tablet.

"Always with the dramatics, Ada," he drawled, his voice laced with the familiar edge of contempt. "What is it this time? Did Gisele post another picture? Are you feeling neglected again?"

My fingernails dug into the palms of my hands. Neglected. That was a polite word for what I had endured for the past five years. It was a polite word for being invisible.

"It's our fifth anniversary, Clayton," I stated, my voice steady despite the tremor in my chest. "The deal is done."

He finally lifted his head, his eyes, so startlingly like Julian's, glinting with a cold amusement that Julian had never possessed. Clayton Parrish, tech mogul, billionaire, my estranged husband, and my deceased brother's identical twin.

"Five years, Ada," he corrected, a smirk playing on his lips. "And you're still here. Still playing the devoted wife. You think I don't see it?"

He rose from his armchair, his tall frame dominating the space between us. He moved with the effortless grace of a predator, his expensive suit doing little to soften his sharp edges.

"You think after all this time, I wouldn't have figured out your little game?" he scoffed, slowly circling me. "The quiet acts of service, the unwavering loyalty, the way you never complained about Gisele. It was all a performance, wasn't it?"

My breath hitched. He knew. He couldn't. This was all for Julian. It had always been for Julian.

"You wanted to show me, didn't you?" he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper as he stopped directly in front of me. "Show me what a good wife looked like. Show me what I was missing. But I wasn't missing anything, Ada. I had Gisele. And you? You were just... convenient."

The word hit me like a physical blow, even though I had known it to be true from day one. I had chosen to be convenient. I had sacrificed everything to be convenient.

"I need you to sign the papers, Clayton," I said, bypassing his cruel assessment entirely. My purpose was clear, unyielding.

He laughed again, louder this time. "Sign papers? After all this? Ada, you're not going anywhere." He reached out, his hand cupping my cheek. His touch felt foreign, a stark reminder of the chasm between us. "You're mine now."

He leaned in, his scent-expensive cologne and something uniquely his, something that Julian had shared, a ghost of memory-filling my senses. He kissed me, a possessive, forceful kiss that offered no tenderness. It was a kiss of ownership, a declaration.

I remained still, unresponsive. My mind drifted back to the morning, to the NASA memorial vault, to the small, custom-designed locket finally resting in my hand. Julian's ashes. Mission accomplished.

Clayton pulled back, his eyes searching mine. "See, Ada?" he murmured, a triumphant glint in his gaze. "You're still here. Still mine."

He grabbed my hand, pulling me towards the sprawling panoramic windows that overlooked the glittering city. "Let's announce it tonight. A new chapter. A real marriage. Maybe... a child?"

He squeezed my hand meaningfully, his thumb rubbing the back of my fingers. "What do you say, Ada? A little heir for the Parrish empire? A child that is truly ours?"

The thought made my stomach churn. A child with him? A child conceived and raised in this cold, transactional farce? It was an insult to everything Julian and I had ever dreamed of.

"No," I whispered, pulling my hand away. The word was soft, but it held the weight of five years of silent resistance.

His eyes narrowed, the amusement draining from his face, replaced by a flicker of irritation. "No? What do you mean, no? Are you still clinging to this ridiculous divorce fantasy?"

He gestured vaguely. "Look, I know Gisele is a lot. But she's just a distraction. You're different. You're... stable. You're quiet." He tried to smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You're what I need."

"What you need and what I want are two different things, Clayton," I replied, my voice gaining strength. "I want to end this. Now."

His jaw tightened. "Don't push me, Ada. You've always been so compliant. Don't start playing games now." He took a step closer, his shadow falling over me. "It won't end well for you."

A high-pitched giggle broke the tension. Gisele Levine, a vision in shimmering silk and diamonds, sashayed into the living room, her phone already poised for a selfie. "Darling, what's taking so long? Our reservation at Le Cirque is in twenty minutes!"

She glanced at me, her red-lipped smile widening into a sneer. "Oh, still here, Ada? Don't you have a dog to walk, or some graphic designs to doodle? Clayton and I have important anniversary plans."

Clayton turned, a practiced, charming smile replacing his earlier menace. "Just finishing some business, my love." He slipped an arm around Gisele's waist, pulling her close. "Ada was just reminding me about something trivial."

Gisele leaned into him, her gaze flicking back to me, triumph blazing in her eyes. "Trivial, indeed. Some people just don't know when to bow out gracefully, do they, darling?" She pressed a lingering kiss to Clayton's jaw, then turned to me, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Maybe you should find a new hobby, Ada. Something more... fulfilling."

I met her gaze, then Clayton's. My heart didn't ache. My stomach didn't clench. There was only a profound sense of finality.

"I have found one," I told Gisele, my voice clear and steady. "It's called freedom." I looked directly at Clayton. "And I'll be leaving tonight."

His eyes went cold, a dangerous glint replacing the amusement. "You think so?" he challenged, his arm still wrapped around Gisele's waist, now tightening possessively. "Try it, Ada. Just try to walk out that door."

He smirked, confident in his power. "You have nothing without me. No money, no status, no future. Where will you go? What will you do?"

My gaze dropped to the small, silver locket clutched in my hand, hidden from their view. It was warm against my skin. It was everything.

"I have everything I need," I said, my voice barely a whisper, but firm enough to carry through the opulent room. "And I'll go exactly where I'm meant to be."

With that, I turned, leaving them standing in the fading light, their tableau of infidelity the perfect backdrop for my quiet exit. I didn't look back. The five years were over.