Anna, our housekeeper’s daughter, had a gift for taking what was mine. Anything I loved, she’d snatch away. Now she wanted my custom-designed wedding. At dinner, she put on a wounded look. “A wedding is once-in-a-lifetime,” she sniffled. “I’m not creative like Sera… I couldn’t book a ballroom…” My father turned to me: “Give Anna your designs. You can make another.” My mother added: “Your reception’s in the evening. We’ll put Anna’s in the afternoon. Your décor will be used twice.” Anna smirked. “And Sera—remove your names from everything. I’d be embarrassed if my friends saw them.” They wanted to hijack my venue and leave me with scraps. I looked at them and laughed coldly. “You’re sure?” I asked, voice calm. “Absolutely sure you want my venue?” After their smug confirmation, I dialed a number: “Deliver fifty funeral wreaths to The Grand Astoria. And two crates of votive candles and ceremonial money.” If they wanted to ruin my wedding, they could have a funeral instead. 1 “Sera, is this it? The wedding design that cost a fortune?” Anna leaned in close, her eyes fixed on the blueprints in my hands, a flicker of raw envy in their depths. I nodded curtly, moving to close the portfolio. But Anna’s hand shot out, clamping down on mine. “Can I just see them? Please?” she begged. “I’m getting married soon, too. I just want some inspiration.” I refused without a second thought. Every single detail in that design was a piece of me, meticulously planned. I wasn’t sharing it with anyone. “There are plenty of designs online. Go look for yourself.” I pulled my hand away, ignoring the pathetic, pleading look she gave me as I walked away. Anna had been stealing from me her whole life. She was just the housekeeper’s daughter, but she was a master at playing the victim in front of my parents, twisting every situation until I was the villain. They’d fall for it every time, taking pity on her and handing over whatever gift was meant for me. When I was six, she scraped her knee and cried until they gave her my favorite porcelain doll. At my debutante ball, she showed up drenched from a supposed fall into the fountain and walked away with my custom-made gown. Just last week, she claimed to be having nightmares and my parents made me swap rooms, giving her the bedroom I’d lived in for twenty years. Only one thing was truly mine: Reid, my fiancé. He was the one prize she’d spent years scheming for but could never, ever steal. Now, all my hopes were pinned on this wedding. Once I was married, I would finally be free of this suffocating house. Later, at the dinner table, the drama started right on cue. Anna sat with her head down, her eyes red-rimmed, the very picture of misery. My mother couldn’t stand it. Her anger immediately flared, aimed squarely at me. “Did you bully Anna again?” “You have everything, Seraphina! Why can’t you be a little more generous and just let her have this one thing?” My father glared at me, his disappointment a palpable force. “The older you get, the more selfish you become.” With her audience secured, Anna began to sob theatrically. “Miss Seraphina has never liked me, I know that,” she whispered. “If you’re still angry about the room, I’ll get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness, I will!” She turned her tear-streaked face to my parents. “I just wanted to look at her wedding designs. A wedding is a once-in-a-lifetime moment, and I don’t want any regrets… but I’m not clever like she is. I can’t design something beautiful myself…” Her voice trailed off into a pathetic whimper, and my parents looked like their hearts were breaking. I, however, remained unmoved, calmly picking at my food. The entire table was laden with sweet dishes Anna adored; not a single spicy entree that I loved. “Seraphina, are you deaf?” my mother snapped, pulling Anna into a protective hug. “Did you not hear what she said? Do you really need her to kneel before you’re satisfied?” My father issued his decree. “Go get your designs and give them to Anna. You’re a designer. It won’t take you any time to whip up something new.” Anna’s tears vanished instantly, replaced by a radiant smile. “Oh, thank you, Papa Sterling! I knew you and Mama Sterling were the kindest people in the world.” Listening to the three of them decide the fate of my work, I had to laugh. I set down my fork and looked directly at the two people flanking Anna like royal guards. “Tell me,” I asked, my voice eerily calm. “Am I actually your daughter?” “Why is it you always believe her, but never me? Does the one who cries the loudest always get to be right?” It was the question that had haunted me for years, a puzzle I could never solve. I remembered a time, before Anna and her mother arrived, when they had loved me. A child who has known love can never truly accept its absence. My question seemed to stun them into silence for a moment. Anna’s expression tightened with anxiety. The next second, she threw herself to the floor in front of me, grabbing my hand and slapping it against her own cheek. “I’m so sorry, Miss Seraphina! I shouldn’t have coveted your things! Please don’t be angry with your parents!” My mother was the first to react, surging forward and striking me hard across the face. “If it weren’t for your constant bullying, Anna wouldn’t be having nightmares every night! Of course you should have given her your room! What right do you have to be so angry?” My father pulled Anna to her feet, his gaze cold as ice. “You don’t get to speak that way in this house.” “You ungrateful child,” he seethed. “We’ve given you everything, and this is the thanks we get? You begrudge us one little blueprint?” I cradled my stinging cheek, a bitter, self-mocking nod my only answer. If they wouldn’t believe me no matter what I said… then I would stop talking. I swallowed down the lifetime of injustice and looked up, my expression placid. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have made a fuss. It’s just a room I didn’t want anymore anyway.” “But,” I added, my voice hardening, “she is absolutely not getting my design.” Ignoring the renewed storm of curses behind me, I walked away, retreating to the small guest room and collapsing against the wall, my body finally giving out. The next morning, Reid arrived to take me for my wedding dress fitting. As I reached for the passenger door, Anna darted past me and slid into the seat. “Reid,” she cooed, “I want to look at wedding dresses too. Can I come along?” I yanked the door open and pulled her out by the arm. “Who told you to sit here? Did I say you were invited?” As expected, Anna’s eyes immediately filled with tears. She was wearing a pale, strappy sundress and a touch of innocent-looking makeup. When she cried, she looked like a fragile flower, designed to evoke pity. My mother’s voice was sharp with fury. “It’s just a seat, Seraphina! Have we ever denied you anything? Get in the back and let Anna have the front. Stop embarrassing us!” Anna seized her moment. “I’m sorry, Miss Seraphina, I didn’t mean to take your seat. It’s just… I get carsick in the back…” She shot a helpless, pleading look past me, at Reid. I stepped aside, revealing him completely. “You tell me, Reid,” I said, my voice level. “Who sits here?” 2 Reid smoothed a stray strand of hair from my face. “You do, of course,” he said, his voice a warm caress. “My future wife.” His gaze then flicked to the red-eyed Anna. “And for the record,” he added coolly, “I have no taste for crocodile tears.” Color flooded Anna’s face. “Reid, I… I wasn’t…” she stammered, utterly humiliated. In the end, Anna still came with us. At the bridal boutique, I lounged on a plush velvet sofa, scrolling through designer gowns on a tablet. “Pick the most expensive one, darling,” Reid said, kissing my temple. “We can afford it.” I blew him a kiss back and selected the boutique’s signature couture gown. While I waited for the seamstress, Anna emerged holding the cheapest dress in the store, a pained look on her face. “You’re so lucky, Sera,” she sighed. “Having a fiancé like Reid who’s willing to spend so much.” She turned to him, her expression a mask of wide-eyed innocence. “But a wedding dress is only for one day. Do you really need to spend a fortune on it? Reid, aren’t you worried she’ll spend all your money?” The implication was clear, a venomous whisper beneath her sweet tone: A frugal, sensible woman like me would be a much better choice. I wasn’t about to let her play that game. I set the tablet aside and gave her a lazy, knowing smile. “You said it yourself, Anna. You only wear it once. Why wouldn’t you wear the absolute best?” I leaned forward, my voice dropping. “Or is it that you don’t think you’re worthy of the best?” Her face fell. Her eyes welled up again as she looked desperately at Reid, clearly expecting him to rush to her defense. But Reid didn’t even glance her way. He simply seconded my point. “My fiancée is right. And if she manages to spend all my money, it just means I’m not earning enough.” Just then, the boutique owner herself arrived, carrying the shop’s masterpiece. It was a magnificent creation of heavy silk and intricate embroidery, shimmering under the lights. It instantly made the cheap, polyester dress in Anna’s hands look like a dull, lifeless rag. “You should work on your self-worth, Anna dear,” I purred, giving her a saccharine smile before sweeping into the fitting room. When I emerged in the gown, I found Anna with her back to Reid, contorting herself awkwardly. “Oh, Reid,” she simpered, “the zipper is stuck. My arms can’t reach. Could you possibly help me?” I swept forward, the long train of my gown whispering across the floor. I grabbed her zipper and yanked it up so hard she gasped. “Put your cheap tricks away,” I said, my voice low and dangerous. “If you can’t dress yourself properly, then don’t wear it at all. And stop throwing yourself at my fiancé.” The other brides in the shop heard me. Their eyes, filled with contempt, turned on Anna. “Shameless. Trying to seduce another woman’s husband.” “Seriously, what is she thinking? Look at the real couple, they’re perfect together. He’d have to be blind to even look at her.” The whispers were like daggers. Anna looked like she wanted the floor to swallow her whole. But without my parents to defend her, she could only let out a choked sob and flee the boutique. With the pest gone, Reid and I selected three more outfits and finalized everything for the reception. On the way home, my phone rang. It was the hotel manager. “Miss Sterling, just calling to inform you that another party has booked the ballroom for a luncheon on your wedding day.” “But don’t worry,” he continued, his tone breezy. “They’re in the afternoon, you’re in the evening. The other couple doesn’t plan to decorate, so your setup can proceed as scheduled. It won’t affect you at all.” Won’t affect me? If they had a luncheon, my decorations would already have to be fully installed. I fought to keep my voice even. “If the luncheon was already booked, why wasn’t I notified sooner? And if they don’t plan to decorate, does that mean they plan to use my décor for free?” I could feel my temper rising. “Are you telling me that my unique, custom-designed wedding is going to be a backdrop for someone else first? That I’m spending all this money just to have a secondhand reception?” 3 The more I spoke, the angrier I became. The thought of all my hard work, my personal vision, being used by strangers for free made me tremble with rage. But the manager’s attitude was infuriatingly dismissive, almost condescending. “Now, Miss Sterling, that’s not the right way to look at it. Technically, they are using the venue first. You should be thanking them for allowing you to set up early.” Thanking them? I almost choked on a laugh. I was paying a premium for an exclusive venue, for a specific time and service. And now my unique creation was being turned into a freebie for someone else, and I was expected to be grateful? “I don’t think so,” I said, my voice like ice. “If they’re not decorating, they’re not using mine either. I’ll have everything covered up until my event begins.” The manager actually chuckled, a smug sound. “Of course, you’re welcome to do that. There will be an additional fee for the drapes and labor, of course.” I was stunned into silence. “Your hotel created this problem, and you expect me to pay to fix it?” I may have money, but I’m not an idiot. As I started to protest further, he cut me off impatiently and hung up. When I stormed into the hotel, the first thing I saw was my parents, laughing and chatting with the manager. For a split second, I thought they had heard about the scheduling conflict and had come to fight for me. I should have known better. The moment they saw me, the cheerful conversation died. My mother cleared her throat. “Your father and I booked the luncheon for Anna,” she announced, as if it were the most reasonable thing in the world. “That way, your décor gets used twice, and you don’t have to go to the trouble of designing something for her.” My father nodded in agreement. “You should be thanking Anna for coming up with such a clever, efficient solution. It saves you so much work.” At that moment, Anna stepped out from behind them, a victorious smirk playing on her lips. “Oh, and Sera, it’s probably best if you don’t put your names on any of the decorations. It would be so awkward if my guests saw them.” “Yes, exactly!” my mother chimed in. “Anna is so thoughtful.” Something inside me snapped. I stared at my parents, incredulous. “You know how much this wedding means to me, how much of myself I’ve poured into it, and you’re telling me I can’t even put my own name on it? Is that fair?” “I am your daughter! Why do I have to give up everything for her? Why does my once-in-a-lifetime wedding have to be trampled on like this?!” My voice rose to a raw, ragged scream, filled with the agony of a lifetime of confusion and hurt. The wedding was only a week away. Every other decent venue was booked solid. I was trapped. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, my eyes burning. For the first time, I wondered why it was so damn hard for me to just have one beautiful day that was all my own. “Is letting Anna use it for a few hours ‘trampling’ on it?” my mother shot back, her voice dripping with scorn. “You’re being selfish! Have you ever stopped to think about all the pain you’ve caused her?” She threw Anna’s fabricated grievances in my face like daggers. “Her invitations have already gone out,” my father declared, his tone final. “You’ll do it, whether you like it or not.” He thrust a gold-embossed invitation into my hand. I looked down at it. And then, I started to laugh. Because I finally understood. I finally saw the real reason for my parents’ unwavering devotion to Anna. I looked up, my eyes sweeping over all of them, a slow, mocking smile on my face. “You’re absolutely sure you want to use my venue and my decorations? Fine. I agree.”
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "384638", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel