Chapter 4 - The Sister Who Was Never Sorry
Clara returned twenty minutes later wearing a simple black robe from the bridal suite.
Daniel carried my dress in a garment bag.
He handed it to me carefully.
I did not look at the fabric.
Not yet.
I knew if I did, I might remember the woman I was when I bought it.
The woman who believed her sister and fiancé loved her.
Clara stood beside the table, her makeup smudged, her eyes bright with anger.
“You recorded us?”
“You discussed stealing my company funds in my restaurant.”
“We did not steal anything.”
Evan stood.
“Clara, stop talking.”
She turned toward him.
“No. You promised you would fix this.”
The words landed heavily.
I looked at her.
“What did he promise?”
She hesitated.
Then lifted her chin.
“He said he was leaving you.”
Evan’s face hardened.
“Clara.”
“He said you were controlling. That you only cared about the restaurant. That you did not really love him anymore.”
I stared at him.
He said nothing.
Clara continued, voice shaking.
“He said you wanted a wedding more than a marriage. He said he was only staying because you had all the money.”
My throat tightened.
For years, I had wondered why Evan became distant whenever I talked about work.
Why he made jokes about how much I cared about Aurelia.
Why he called me obsessed whenever I stayed late with staff or worried over finances.
He had been creating a version of me that justified his betrayal.
A cold woman.
A controlling fiancée.
A business owner who loved money more than people.
Anything but the truth.
“You believed him?” I asked Clara.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to.”
The honesty hurt more than another lie.
“You wanted to take my place.”
She looked away.
“I wanted someone to choose me.”
For a moment, I saw my younger sister as she had once been.
A girl who always felt invisible beside me.
A woman who spent years chasing attention because she confused being wanted with being valued.
But pain did not excuse what she did.
“You did not need to wear my dress to be chosen,” I said. “You chose to hurt me.”
Clara began crying.
Evan rolled his eyes.
That was when she looked at him.
Really looked at him.
Not as the charming man who whispered promises over expensive wine.
But as the man who used her jealousy, her insecurity, and her need for approval to get what he wanted.
“You told me you loved me,” she whispered.
Evan’s expression became impatient.
“This is not the time.”
Clara laughed once.
It sounded broken.
“No,” she said. “It never was.”
She reached into the pocket of the robe and pulled out a phone.
“My phone was linked to the SoHo apartment’s security system,” she said. “He didn’t know.”
Evan went completely still.
Clara looked at me.
“I have videos. Messages. Calls. He has been meeting someone else too.”
I frowned.
“Someone else?”
Clara nodded.
“A woman named Elise. She works for a restaurant investment group.”
Evan’s face changed.
True fear entered his eyes.
Clara held up her phone.
“He told her Aurelia was part of his portfolio.”
And suddenly, everything made sense.
The fake investors.
The stolen money.
The private-events expansion.
May you like
He was not only stealing from me.
He was trying to sell something he did not own.
