I was nursing the twins when my husband stood in front of me and said coldly, “Get ready. We’re moving into my mother’s house.” Before I could process it, he continued, as if it were perfectly normal: “My brother and his family will move into your apartment. And you… will sleep in the storage room at my mom’s.” I went still, my hands shaking with anger. Right then, the doorbell rang. My husband flinched, his face draining of color, his lips trembling when he saw who arrived—my two CEO brothers…

I was nursing the twins when my husband stood in front of me and said coldly, “Get ready. We’re moving into my mother’s house.” Before I could process it, he continued, as if it were perfectly normal: “My brother and his family will move into your apartment. And you… will sleep in the storage room at my mom’s.” I went still, my hands shaking with anger. Right then, the doorbell rang. My husband flinched, his face draining of color, his lips trembling when he saw who arrived—my two CEO brothers…

Emily Carter sat on the living-room couch, nursing her two newborn twins after another sleepless night. Her husband, Daniel, stood in front of her with an expression so cold it felt like ice spreading across the room.

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