"I think the least you could do is give up your venue," Tanya's shrill voice cut through the hospital room. "After all, Ivy may not get another chance to experience a beautiful wedding day."
My laugh was cold and sharp, startling everyone. "Sure, why not? I'll gift her my venue. And as an extra-special wedding present, I'll throw in a traditional coffin. You know, to keep things practical."
The room fell silent. Tanya's face contorted with rage while Ivy's eyes widened in shock.
"You ungrateful little—" My father lunged forward suddenly, hand raised.
I didn't flinch. I'd seen this coming since I was twelve.
But the blow never landed.
Alistair jumped between us, taking the slap across his face with a sharp crack. The red mark bloomed instantly on his cheek.
"Harold, please," he said, voice shaking. "We're all family here."
Family? That word was the final straw.
"Family?" I spat. "Is that what we are now? A happy little family where my fiancé marries my stepsister in my wedding dress at my wedding venue? How heartwarming."
I turned to leave, unable to stand the sight of them for another second.
"Hazel, wait." Alistair grabbed my wrist, his grip tight and desperate. "Please try to understand—"
The sound of my palm striking his face echoed through the room. His head snapped sideways, a perfect red handprint forming where mine had landed.
"Don't you dare touch me again," I said, my voice deadly quiet. "You lost that right the moment you decided to marry her."
I yanked my arm free and straightened my shoulders. "Enjoy your borrowed wedding. I hope the dress isn't too tight on her—I hear bloating is common in the final stages."
Tanya gasped. Ivy made a strangled sound. My father started toward me again, but Alistair held him back.
I walked out without looking back, my heels clicking sharply against the hospital floor. The sound was satisfying—strong, purposeful, nothing like the shattered woman I felt inside.
Outside, I gulped in the fresh air, fighting the rising nausea. My phone buzzed in my purse. A text from Vera: "At Bistro Rouge waiting for you. Did you kill anyone yet?"
I almost smiled. Sweet, loyal Vera. She'd insisted on meeting me for lunch after I told her I was confronting Alistair at the hospital. "You'll need either an alibi or a getaway driver," she'd declared.
Twenty minutes later, I slid into the booth across from her at the upscale restaurant we frequented.
"Oh my god," Vera said immediately. "Your face is white as a sheet. What happened? Do we need to hide a body?"
I tried to answer, but my throat closed up.
Vera reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "Take your time."
The waiter approached, and Vera waved him away with one imperious flick of her manicured fingers. Being the heiress to a restaurant empire had its perks.
"They're using my wedding," I finally managed. "Everything. The venue, the flowers, the caterer—all of it."
"What?" Vera's voice rose sharply. "Your entire wedding? The one this Saturday?"
I nodded, staring down at the pristine tablecloth. "Apparently it would be a 'shame to let it go to waste' since she has 'so little time left.' Those were their exact words."
"Those absolute vultures," Vera hissed. "And Alistair is okay with this?"
"He suggested I think of it as my 'gift' to Ivy." My laugh sounded hollow even to my own ears.
"I'll kill him," Vera declared, reaching for her purse. "I have pepper spray in here somewhere..."
Despite everything, I found myself smiling slightly. "At least I slapped him. Hard. My handprint was still visible when I left."
"That's my girl." Vera grinned, settling back in her seat. "Tell me everything."
I recounted the scene at the hospital, including my coffin suggestion and the almost-fight with my father. With each word, the knot in my stomach loosened just a fraction.
"So they're really going through with it?" Vera asked when I finished. "The wedding is still happening this weekend?"
"To be precise, the wedding is unchanged," I said, my voice catching. "But the bride is not me anymore."
Vera's eyes flashed with fury. "This is beyond cruel, Hazel. It's sadistic. They're not just stealing your fiancé—they're stealing your dream day."
"The worst part?" I whispered, finally allowing the tears to well up. "It feels like they're erasing me. Like I'm being replaced not just as Alistair's wife, but as a person. Like I never existed at all."
The tears spilled over then, hot and silent. Six years of love and sacrifice, wiped away in an instant. Six years of blood donations keeping Alistair alive through his illness. Six years of planning a future that would now belong to someone else.
"You haven't been erased," Vera said fiercely, gripping my hands across the table. "You're right here. And you're going to rise from this stronger than ever."
I wiped at my tears with my napkin. "I don't feel strong right now."
"You slapped your ex-fiancé in the face and offered your dying stepsister a coffin as a wedding gift," Vera pointed out. "That's not the behavior of a broken woman."
I laughed despite myself, a watery sound mixed with lingering sobs.
"Listen to me," Vera continued, her voice low and intense. "They can take your wedding, but they can't take your dignity unless you let them. What's your plan now?"
I took a deep breath. "I still have the company. Evening Gala is half mine, and no one can take that from me."
"That's right," Vera nodded emphatically. "You're a brilliant designer, Hazel. Your career is just beginning."
"Alistair tried to buy me off with money," I said, anger bubbling up again. "As if that could replace what he took from me."
"Men like that think everything has a price," Vera scoffed. "Did you take it?"
"No. But I'm thinking of demanding something else as compensation."
"Like what?"
"Full control of Evening Gala," I said, the idea solidifying as I spoke it aloud. "If he wants to marry my stepsister so badly, he can pay for it with his half of the company."
Vera's eyes widened, then she broke into a slow smile. "Now that's what I call a wedding gift. One that benefits you instead of them."
I sat up straighter, my resolve strengthening. "They think they can just erase me and move on with their lives. They're wrong."
"So what's your next move?" Vera asked, gesturing for the waiter to bring menus.
"I call my lawyer," I said, reaching for my phone. "And I make sure Alistair understands exactly what his betrayal is going to cost him."