Chapter 3 First Love Revived, Brothers Turn Against Each Other

# Chapter 3: First Love Revived, Brothers Turn Against Each Other

Three days after my confrontation with Herbert, I found myself seated at a Ballard Enterprises charity gala, playing the role of devoted wife. My "imprisonment" had been upgraded to a more subtle house arrest—I could move freely within the estate and attend public events, but security shadowed my every move. The flash drive had bought me that much at least.

Herbert maintained his cold facade, but I'd noticed him watching me more closely, as if reevaluating a miscalculated risk. Maurice had mysteriously "returned from a business trip" two days ago, sporting a split lip and bruised cheekbone that society gossips attributed to a skiing accident.

Tonight's event was a fundraiser for medical research—ironic, given what I now knew about Ballard Enterprises' off-the-books experiments. I sipped champagne, smiling mechanically as Herbert introduced me to business associates and potential investors.

"Mrs. Ballard is quite the asset to our family," he would say, his hand possessively at my waist. The double meaning wasn't lost on me.

"Herbert always finds exactly what he needs," Maurice added when he joined our circle, his smile not reaching his eyes. The brothers maintained a public truce that fooled everyone but me.

I excused myself to the ladies' room, desperate for a moment alone. Inside the opulent restroom, I leaned against the marble counter and exhaled slowly. Through the door, the muffled sounds of the orchestra and clinking glasses continued—life proceeding normally while mine had become a waking nightmare.

When I returned to the ballroom, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned toward the entrance, where a striking woman stood in a shimmering gold gown. Tall and elegant, with auburn hair cascading over one shoulder, she commanded attention effortlessly.

But it was Herbert's reaction that told me everything I needed to know. For the first time since I'd met him, he looked genuinely shocked—a flash of emotion so raw it transformed his face before he regained control.

"Katherine," I heard him whisper.

Katherine Lane. The first love. The woman who supposedly needed my kidney.

She glided through the crowd, which parted before her like the Red Sea. When she reached us, she offered Herbert a smile that held years of history.

"Hello, Herbert," she said, her voice melodic. "It's been too long."

Herbert recovered quickly, his mask slipping back into place. "Katherine. This is... unexpected."

"The best reunions always are." She turned to me, her gaze appraising. "And you must be Linette. Herbert's new... wife."

The way she paused before "wife" made it sound like a temporary condition.

"Lovely to meet you," I replied, studying her closely. If she was ill enough to need an organ transplant, she hid it remarkably well. Her complexion was flawless, her movements graceful and energetic.

Maurice appeared at my elbow, his expression unreadable as he regarded Katherine. "The prodigal lover returns," he murmured, just loud enough for our small circle to hear.

Katherine's smile tightened. "Maurice. Still lurking in corners, I see."

"Someone has to watch the shadows," he replied cryptically.

The tension between the three of them was palpable, a complex history I couldn't begin to unravel. Before I could say anything else, Katherine placed her hand on Herbert's arm.

"I need to speak with you privately," she said. "About my... condition."

Herbert nodded stiffly. "Of course. My office."

As they walked away, Maurice's hand found the small of my back. "And the game continues," he whispered.

"What game?" I hissed. "Who is she really? She doesn't look like she needs a transplant."

"Appearances can be deceiving," Maurice replied, guiding me toward a quieter corner of the ballroom. "Katherine has always excelled at presenting exactly the image required for the moment."

"Like you?" I challenged.

His lips quirked. "Touché." He glanced toward Herbert's office. "My brother thinks he's won now that his precious Katherine has returned. He doesn't realize he's being played."

"By whom? You?"

Maurice's eyes darkened. "We're all being played, Linette. Some of us just figured it out sooner than others."

Before I could press him further, gasps and murmurs swept through the ballroom. Katherine had returned—alone—and was tapping a champagne glass for attention. Herbert was nowhere to be seen.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she announced, her voice carrying effortlessly across the room. "I have wonderful news to share."

The crowd quieted, all eyes on her radiant face.

"Herbert and I are overjoyed to announce that we're expecting a child together."

The room erupted in confused whispers. Maurice's grip on my arm tightened painfully as shocked glances turned my way. I stood frozen, humiliation burning through me as Katherine continued.

"We've kept our relationship private during my treatment overseas, but now that I've returned, Herbert and I are eager to begin our family life together." Her hand rested meaningfully on her still-flat stomach.

Murmurs grew louder as guests connected the dots—Herbert's hasty marriage to me, Katherine's sudden return, the pregnancy announcement. In their eyes, I had been transformed from society bride to pitiful placeholder in an instant.

"Interesting timing," Maurice muttered beside me. "Almost as if it were choreographed."

My cheeks burned as I felt the weight of pitying stares. Where was Herbert? Why wasn't he refuting this absurd claim?

As if summoned by my thoughts, he emerged from his office looking uncharacteristically disheveled. His eyes met mine across the room—not with guilt, but with calculation. Whatever had transpired between him and Katherine, he'd already adjusted his plans accordingly.

"We need to leave," Maurice whispered urgently. "Now."

"And look like the discarded wife slinking away? No." I straightened my spine and lifted my chin. "I won't give them the satisfaction."

Instead, I walked directly toward Katherine, who was accepting congratulations from gushing socialites. The crowd parted nervously as I approached.

"Katherine," I said, my voice steady despite the rage and humiliation coursing through me. "What a surprise. I wasn't aware you and my husband were still in contact."

Her smile was triumphant. "Some connections transcend time and circumstance, Linette. Herbert and I have always been destined for each other."

"And the kidney transplant?" I asked quietly, watching her expression carefully. "Is that no longer necessary?"

Something flickered in her eyes—confusion? Fear? It was gone too quickly to identify.

"Medical miracles happen every day," she replied smoothly. "My condition has... improved."

Up close, I noticed something odd about Katherine. Her movements, while graceful, had a studied quality—as if she'd been trained to move this way rather than doing so naturally. And when she turned her head quickly, I caught a glimpse of something on her wrist partially covered by a diamond bracelet.

A birthmark. Small and crescent-shaped.

My heart stuttered. That birthmark... it was identical to one my twin sister had.

Sophia had disappeared five years ago during a semester abroad. The investigation had gone cold after months without leads. Our parents had eventually accepted that she was gone, but I had never stopped searching, never stopped hoping.

Could it be possible? The room seemed to spin around me as I stared at Katherine's wrist, memories flooding back.

"Are you alright?" Maurice asked, steadying me as I swayed slightly.

"Her wrist," I whispered. "The birthmark."

Maurice's eyes narrowed as he glanced at Katherine. "What about it?"

"It's identical to my sister's. My twin sister who disappeared years ago."

His expression shifted from concern to sharp interest. "You're certain?"

"I'd know it anywhere." My voice trembled. "But how could Katherine be Sophia? It doesn't make sense."

"More than you know," Maurice muttered, his grip tightening on my arm. "We need to speak privately. Now."

This time I didn't resist as he led me away from the crowd, out onto a deserted terrace. The cool night air helped clear my head, but the implications of what I'd seen left me reeling.

"If that's really Sophia—" I began.

"It's not," Maurice interrupted. "Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking exhausted. "It means the woman in there is neither Katherine Lane nor your sister Sophia. She's... something in between."

"Stop speaking in riddles," I snapped. "If you know something about my sister, tell me!"

Maurice glanced over his shoulder, ensuring we were truly alone before he spoke. "Herbert's research goes beyond conventional medicine, Linette. He's been experimenting with memory transference, cognitive implantation—"

"In English, please."

"He's been trying to recreate his lost love by implanting Katherine's memories into compatible hosts."

The words hung in the air between us, too monstrous to immediately comprehend.

"That's... that's not possible," I finally managed. "Science isn't there yet."

"Conventional science isn't," Maurice agreed. "But with unlimited funding, no ethical oversight, and desperate test subjects? You'd be surprised what's possible."

Horror crawled up my spine as the pieces clicked together. "Are you saying he's been... what? Brainwashing women to believe they're Katherine?"

Maurice's silence was answer enough.

"And now Sophia—" My voice broke. "He's done this to my sister?"

"If she has the birthmark you recognize, then yes, it appears your sister became one of his subjects." Maurice's voice gentled. "I'm sorry, Linette."

Grief and rage warred within me. "Why? Why would he do this?"

"Katherine died eight years ago," Maurice said quietly. "Cancer. Herbert never accepted it. He's been trying to bring her back ever since, using his medical research as cover."

I thought of the facility on the estate, the mysterious medical files. "The other women in those files..."

"Previous attempts. None lasted long. The mind eventually rejects the implanted memories, causing psychological breakdown."

"And the pregnancy announcement?"

"Likely a calculated move. Herbert must have told her to make the announcement to solidify her position and destabilize yours."

I pressed my hands against my temples, trying to process everything. "So the kidney transplant was never for Katherine. It was for..."

"For Herbert," Maurice confirmed. "His condition is real, and he does need compatible organs. But the Katherine story was just a convenient narrative to make you cooperate."

The ballroom doors opened, and Herbert stepped onto the terrace. His eyes narrowed when he saw us together.

"Quite a spectacle in there," he said coldly. "Katherine's return has caused quite a stir."

"Drop the act, Herbert," I replied, anger giving me courage. "I know that's not Katherine."

Something dangerous flashed in his eyes. "Be careful with accusations, Linette."

"It's Sophia, isn't it? My sister. Somehow you found her, and you've been experimenting on her."

Herbert's expression remained impassive, but his silence confirmed my suspicion.

"How long have you known who I was?" I demanded. "Was that part of your plan too? Marrying your test subject's sister for compatible organs?"

"Genetic compatibility runs in families," he replied clinically. "When we discovered your sister was an ideal match for the Katherine protocol, we researched her background extensively. You were... a fortunate coincidence."

"Fortunate?" I echoed in disbelief. "You stole my sister's life, her identity, her mind—and then targeted me for parts?"

Herbert's gaze flicked to Maurice. "I see my brother has been sharing company secrets again."

"Someone had to," Maurice retorted. "Your 'research' crossed ethical lines years ago."

"Ethics are for those who lack vision," Herbert replied dismissively. "Katherine will live again—properly, this time. Your sister's mind was already broken when we found her, Linette. We gave her purpose."

My hand moved before my brain fully registered the intent. The crack of my palm against Herbert's cheek echoed in the night air. He didn't flinch, didn't react beyond a slight narrowing of his eyes.

"Feel better?" he asked coldly.

"I want to see her," I demanded. "Now."

"That won't be possible tonight. Katherine needs rest after her... performance."

"Her name is Sophia!"

Herbert straightened his tie, utterly unmoved by my outburst. "Her name is whatever I decide it is. And you would do well to remember your position here."

He turned to leave, then paused. "The car will take you home in twenty minutes. I suggest you compose yourself before then. We have appearances to maintain."

After he disappeared back into the ballroom, I collapsed onto a stone bench, shaking with rage and grief.

"I'll kill him," I whispered. "I swear I will."

Maurice sat beside me, his shoulder brushing mine. "Get in line," he muttered. "But first, we need to help your sister."

"How? If what you say is true, she doesn't even know who she is anymore."

"Memory implantation isn't perfect. The original identity is suppressed, not erased. With the right trigger, Sophia might remember."

Hope flickered faintly. "What kind of trigger?"

"Something deeply personal. Something only the real Sophia would know."

I nodded slowly, memories of our childhood flooding back—shared secrets, private jokes, the special language we'd invented as children. If any part of my sister remained beneath Katherine's implanted personality, I would find it.

"I need access to her," I said.

Maurice nodded. "I can arrange it. But we'll have to be careful. Herbert will be watching both of you closely now."

The ballroom doors opened again, and this time Katherine—no, Sophia—stepped onto the terrace. Alone.

She approached us with that same practiced grace, her expression curious.

"You're still here," she observed. "I thought Herbert's discards usually disappeared quickly."

I stood, studying her face—searching for any glimpse of my sister in this stranger's eyes.

"We need to talk," I said firmly.

She tilted her head. "About what? Your resignation from a marriage that was clearly a business arrangement?"

"About this." I reached out swiftly, grasping her wrist and pushing back the diamond bracelet to reveal the crescent-shaped birthmark. "About who you really are."

She jerked her arm away, but not before I saw confusion flash across her face.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, but her voice lacked conviction.

"Yes, you do. Somewhere inside, you remember." I stepped closer. "Sophia-banana-fana."

It was our childhood rhyme, the secret password we'd used to identify ourselves to each other when playing hide and seek in the dark.

Katherine's—Sophia's—eyes widened almost imperceptibly. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. For a brief moment, something flickered behind her eyes—recognition, panic, confusion.

Then her expression hardened, and she backed away. "Stay away from me," she warned, her voice suddenly less certain. "Herbert warned me you might try to confuse me."

"Think, Sophia," I pleaded. "Remember the treehouse? The secret code? The matching scars on our knees from when we fell off our bikes on the same day?"

She pressed her hands to her temples. "Stop it!"

"Your name is Sophia Skinner. You're my twin sister. We shared a womb, a room, a life. Whatever they've done to you, whatever they've made you believe—it's not real."

"She needs to leave," Maurice interrupted urgently, noticing security guards approaching the terrace. "Now."

Katherine—Sophia—seemed relieved by the interruption. She quickly composed herself, the momentary vulnerability vanishing behind Katherine's polished facade.

"This has been... enlightening," she said coolly. "But I think you've had enough champagne for one night, Linette."

As she walked away, escorted by Herbert's security, she glanced back once. In that brief look, I saw something that gave me hope—uncertainty, the first crack in Katherine's perfect veneer.

Maurice gripped my arm. "We need to go. Herbert will have seen that interaction on security cameras."

"She recognized our childhood code," I said. "For just a second, I saw Sophia."

"Then there's hope," Maurice replied. "But we need to move carefully. Herbert won't hesitate to eliminate threats to his project."

As we left the gala, I felt Herbert's eyes tracking our departure. The stakes had just risen exponentially. This wasn't just about escaping an organ harvesting scheme anymore. It was about saving my sister from the prison of another woman's identity.

Whatever it took, I would free Sophia from Herbert's control. And then I would make him pay for every second of suffering he had caused.