Forbidden: My Husband's Brother

Uncertain

Nicholas’s POV

My hands shook with rage as the photographs scattered at her feet. The sight of them, the proof I never wanted to believe, burned into my eyes. Reyna’s face drained of color as she stared down at the pictures, her lips parting but no words spilling out.

“Whose child are you carrying?” I demanded, my voice echoing through the walls of our bedroom.

Her blue eyes flicked up to me, wide and frightened. “I… I don’t understand...”

I cut her off, fury boiling in my chest. “Don’t play innocent with me! Look at those pictures, Reyna. Look at them!”

She bent down slowly, trembling hands gathering the glossy prints. The images were damning, her body tangled with a faceless man, his features blurred in shadow, but the intent clear. I hated the way my stomach twisted, hated the voice in my head whispering that maybe this was real.

Her eyes filled with tears as she clutched the pictures to her chest. “I don’t even know this man. I swear to you, Nicholas. I never cheated on Jeremy.”

Her words should have calmed me. But they didn’t.

“Then how do you explain this?” I roared, slamming my fist against the wall. The sound rattled the frames, made her flinch like I had struck her instead. “How do you explain your face in those images? How do you explain hiding this from me?”

“I didn’t hide anything!” she cried, her voice breaking. “Someone is framing me, can’t you see that? Haven’t they done enough already? They put me in prison, they made me out to be a murderer, and now this... this filth...” Her voice cracked as she clutched her stomach. “It’s all to destroy me.”

Her words echoed the fears I had buried deep inside. I wanted to believe her. God help me, I wanted to believe her. But the anger, the humiliation of being made a fool, wouldn’t let me soften.

I stepped closer, my shadow falling over her. “If you didn’t cheat, then prove it. Tell me the truth, Reyna. Whose child are you carrying?”

Her tears spilled freely now, streaking her pale cheeks. She lifted her chin, voice trembling but steady with conviction. “It’s Jeremy’s. This child is Jeremy’s.”

The words cut through me like a blade. I wanted to believe them. I wanted to cling to them. But doubt clawed at my insides. “And why should I believe that? Because you say so?”

She sucked in a shaky breath, her shoulders shaking as though the weight of the world pressed down on her. “Because… because it was his last wish.”

I froze. My chest tightened as her words sank in. “What are you talking about?” I demanded, though my voice had lost some of its sharp edge.

Her eyes closed as if she were reliving the memory. “Jeremy knew something was wrong. He never told me what exactly, but he was… restless. He said he didn’t trust certain people anymore, that he could feel something closing in on him. A danger he couldn’t escape.” Her hand instinctively moved to her belly. “He told me, Nicholas. He told me he wanted me to carry his child, so that no matter what happened to him, a part of him would live on.”

Her voice broke on the last words, and silence filled the room like a heavy fog.

I stared at her, my heart pounding in my ears. Jeremy knew? He knew he might die? My brother, who never feared anything, who always had a plan, who was always in control, he saw it coming?

“That’s impossible,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Jeremy wouldn’t… he wouldn’t say something like that. Not without telling me. Not without warning me.”

Her eyes opened, brimming with pain. “He didn’t want anyone else to know. Not even you. He said it was safer that way. He only told me… because he trusted me.”

Her words gutted me. My fists clenched, not in anger this time, but in helplessness. My brother trusted her with a truth he had hidden from me. The thought twisted my stomach, made my throat ache.

I turned away, pacing the length of the room, trying to breathe past the storm raging inside me. If Jeremy suspected danger… if he knew death was coming… then his death wasn’t an accident. And if that was true, then the enemy wasn’t outside these walls, it was within them.

“You expect me to believe this?” I asked, my voice lower now, almost pleading.

“I don’t expect anything from you,” Reyna whispered. “I just want you to know I didn’t betray him. I loved Jeremy. I would never shame his memory, never lie about this child.” She placed both hands on her stomach. “This is his baby, Nicholas. His blood. His legacy. Don’t let them take that away from him.”

Her words pierced me deeper than I wanted to admit. I turned back to her, my gaze falling on her belly. My brother’s child. His last wish. His legacy.

And here I was, doubting her, doubting him.

The anger I had felt only moments ago seemed hollow now, replaced by something heavier. Guilt. Fear. A gnawing suspicion that someone was orchestrating all of this, pulling the strings to turn me against her.

But who?

The faceless man in the photographs? Someone in the family?

I didn’t know. And that uncertainty tore at me.

Reyna’s sobs quieted into soft hiccups. She sat on the edge of the bed, fragile and trembling, yet fierce in the way she shielded her stomach. My chest tightened at the sight. For all my doubts, for all my anger, I couldn’t deny the truth staring me in the face: she was fighting for this child, for Jeremy’s memory, with everything she had.

And I… I was failing them both.

I moved closer, my footsteps heavy, until I stood before her again. Slowly, almost against my will, I crouched down, picking up one of the photographs from the floor. I studied it, the blurred edges, the strange angles. Something about it didn’t sit right.

“These pictures,” I muttered, half to myself, “they’re too convenient. Too perfect.”

Reyna looked up at me, her eyes wide with hope and fear all at once. “Because they’re fake. Can’t you see? Someone is trying to destroy me. To destroy this baby.”

I met her gaze, my chest aching with conflict. “If what you’re saying is true… then whoever killed Jeremy is still out there. And they’re closer than we think.”

Her breath hitched, and I saw the terror in her eyes. Not just for herself, but for the child she carried.

For the first time since this nightmare began, I believed her.

But that belief came with a price. Because if Reyna was telling the truth, then someone in my family, someone I trusted, had murdered my brother.

And now, they wanted to take his child too.

I straightened slowly, the photograph crumpling in my fist. My heart pounded with a new resolve, sharper than my anger, stronger than my doubt.

I would find out who was behind this. I would protect Reyna. And I would protect Jeremy’s child. Even if it meant going to war with my own blood.