Chapter 1: The Pink Paint Disaster
The first splash of pink paint hit my wedding dress before I could even scream.
By the time my younger sister emptied the second bucket, my eight-month labor of love was bleeding pink across the marble floor—and she was smiling like she'd just won the lottery.
“Oops,” Brianna said, dropping the empty bucket beside my wedding shoes.
“I guess you're going to need a new dress.””
I stared at her, unable to process what I was seeing.
The gown hung from a white mannequin beneath the crystal chandelier in our mansion's bridal room. Its fitted corset was covered in hand-sewn crystals. Delicate embroidered flowers climbed the skirt, and a four-meter cathedral train swept across the polished marble.
I had designed every inch of it myself.
Now, bright pink paint dripped from the bodice, soaked into the layers of silk, and spread across the train like a wound.
“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?””
My scream echoed through the enormous room.
Brianna leaned against the dressing table, her platinum-blonde ponytail falling over the white feather coat draped around her shoulders.
“What does it look like?””
I rushed toward the gown, grabbed a clean towel, and pressed it against the bodice.
The paint spread.
“No, no, no.””
I tried another section, dabbing frantically at the fabric.
It only got worse.
“Stop rubbing it,” Brianna said, laughing.
“You're making it uglier.””
I turned toward her.
“You poured paint on my wedding dress!””
“Congratulations. Your eyes work.””
“Brianna, my wedding is tomorrow!””
She examined her manicured nails.
“Then you'd better start shopping.””
For eight months, I had worked on that dress in the little sewing room at the back of the mansion. I had stayed awake until three in the morning stitching crystals beneath the yellow glow of a desk lamp. I had pricked my fingers so many times that tiny bloodstains had appeared on my practice fabric.
I had saved photographs of the gown's progress in a folder on my laptop.
I had imagined Ethan's face when I walked into the cathedral.
And now I was watching everything disappear beneath my sister's deliberate cruelty.
“Why would you do this?”” I whispered.
Brianna shrugged.
“Maybe I didn't like it.””
“You knew what this dress meant to me.””
“It's a dress, Amara. Not a kidney.””
I looked at the empty buckets.
“You poured it twice. How could that possibly be an accident?””
Her smile widened.
“Maybe I'm clumsy.””
I stepped toward her, my hands trembling.
“Don't touch anything else.””
She straightened immediately.
“Get your hands off me.””
“You destroyed something I spent eight months making!””
“And what are you going to do about it?””
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
Brianna walked around the ruined train, deliberately stepping over the stained silk with her expensive heels.
“Look at all that pink,” she said.
“Honestly, it's almost artistic.””
“Please stop.””
“Imagine the wedding photographs. Everyone will remember the bride in the pink disaster.””
Tears blurred my vision.
She noticed and laughed harder.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don't cry. You'll ruin your makeup, too.””
“Why are you being so cruel?””
For a brief moment, her smile disappeared.
Then she stepped closer.
“Because you don't deserve him.””
The room fell silent.
I stared at her.
“Who?””
She gave me a look of disgust.
“Don't play stupid. Ethan.””
My stomach tightened.
“Ethan is my fiancé.””
“Exactly.””
Brianna's voice rose.
“He's handsome, successful, charming. He has a beautiful house, a growing company, and enough money to give a woman the life everyone dreams about.””
She gestured toward herself.
“And then there's me.””
I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
“You destroyed my wedding dress because you're jealous of my engagement?””
“He should have chosen me!””
Her voice cracked on the last word.
I took a step backward.
Brianna had flirted with Ethan before. I had noticed her lingering beside him at family dinners, touching his arm when she laughed, and finding excuses to sit next to him.
I'd told myself she was simply being friendly.
I'd wanted to believe that my own sister wouldn't deliberately pursue the man I loved.
Apparently, I had been wrong.
“Did you tell him how you feel?”” I asked.
She laughed bitterly.
“He doesn't see me. He only sees you.””
“Because I'm his fiancée!””
“Because you always get everything!””
The words burst out of her like she'd been holding them in for years.
“You got Dad's attention. You got the perfect man. You got the engagement ring, the wedding, the beautiful dress. Even Mom always said you were the special one.””
My throat tightened.
Our mother had died when I was nine. Brianna was only six when Dad remarried Vanessa two years later. For fifteen years, I had tried to make our blended family feel whole.
I had helped Brianna with schoolwork, lent her money when she overspent, and designed her eighteenth-birthday dress without charging her a penny.
When she had been heartbroken over her first serious boyfriend, I had stayed up with her until sunrise.
I'd believed those things meant something.
“You're my sister,” I whispered.
She rolled her eyes.
“Half-sister.””
The words hurt more than they should have.
Brianna had never used that distinction when she needed my help.
She used it now because she knew exactly where to strike.
I turned back toward the gown.
Pink paint had soaked through the outer layers. The embroidered flowers were almost invisible, and the delicate crystalwork glittered beneath a sticky film.
My knees gave way.
I sank onto the floor and gathered part of the train into my lap.
The fabric felt cold and heavy beneath my fingers.
“I worked so hard,” I whispered.
Brianna sighed impatiently.
“Oh, for heaven's sake. You can buy another one.””
“I made this one.””
“Then make another.””
“The wedding is tomorrow!””
She crouched beside me, close enough for me to smell her expensive perfume.
“How are you going to walk down the aisle looking like this?””
I looked up at her through my tears.
She smiled.
“Maybe Ethan will change his mind when he sees you.””
I slapped her hand away when she reached for the damaged skirt.
“Don't touch it!””
She stood abruptly.
“Don't you dare hit me!””
“I didn't hit you!””
“Mommy!””
Her sudden scream sent a chill down my spine.
Before I could react, Brianna's face crumpled. She covered her mouth with one hand, and tears instantly filled her eyes.
The transformation was so quick that I almost wondered whether I had imagined the woman who had just laughed over my ruined dress.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
“What on earth is happening in there?””
Vanessa appeared in the doorway, dressed in a champagne-gold gown. My father, Robert, followed her, adjusting his cuff links.
They stopped at the sight of the paint-covered dress.
Dad's face hardened.
“Amara, what happened?””
I scrambled to my feet.
“Dad, Brianna poured two buckets of pink paint over my wedding gown!””
Brianna let out a sob.
“I didn't mean to!””
I stared at her.
“You told me you did it because Ethan should have chosen you!””
Vanessa immediately wrapped an arm around her daughter.
“Brianna, darling, are you hurt?””
Brianna shook her head, trembling theatrically.
“I was trying to help Amara. I thought the dress needed something different, and then the bucket slipped.””
“Twice?”” I demanded.
Vanessa turned toward me.
“Don't shout at her.””
I looked at my father.
“Dad, I watched her do it!””
He rubbed his forehead.
“Amara, please. Not tonight.””
“Not tonight? My wedding dress is ruined!””
“I can see that.””
“Then do something!””
His eyes shifted toward Brianna.
“Did you really pour paint on the dress?””
Brianna lowered her head.
“I was careless.””
“That's not what I asked.””
For one hopeful second, I thought my father might finally demand the truth.
Then Vanessa touched his arm.
“Robert, she's upset. We all know how emotional Brianna gets when she feels attacked.””
I stared at her.
“Attacked? She destroyed my dress!””
Vanessa's expression turned cold.
“And you need to stop making everything about yourself.””
The words landed like a slap.
I looked between them.
My father was standing beside the woman who had spent years excusing Brianna's behavior, while my sister hid her smile against Vanessa's shoulder.
“Dad,” I whispered, “please.””
He sighed.
“I'll have someone look at the dress in the morning.””
“Tomorrow morning? The ceremony is at eleven!””
“We'll figure something out.””
Brianna sniffled.
“I'm sorry, Amara.””
She said it so softly that anyone who didn't know her might have believed her.
Then, as Vanessa guided her toward the door, she glanced back at me.
Her lips moved silently.
You lose.
I watched them leave.
My father lingered for a moment.
“I know you're upset,” he said, “but try not to turn this into a family war. Your wedding is tomorrow. We should all be celebrating.””
“Then why does it feel like I'm the only person who's hurting?””
He didn't answer.
He simply followed Vanessa out.
The door clicked shut.
I stood alone with my ruined dress.
For several minutes, I couldn't move.
Then I wiped my cheeks, pulled my phone from my pocket, and called Ethan.
He answered on the second ring.
“Hey, beautiful. Everything okay?””
I tried to speak, but my voice broke.
“Amara?””
“Ethan, something happened.””
His tone changed immediately.
“What happened? Are you hurt?””
“No. It's the dress.””
“What about it?””
I looked at the pink stains.
“Brianna destroyed it.””
Silence.
Then he asked, very quietly, “Where is she now?””
“She went downstairs with Mom and Dad.””
“Don't touch anything else. Don't clean the room. I'm coming over.””
“Ethan, it's nearly midnight.””
“I don't care.””
I heard keys jingling on his end.
“Amara, listen to me. Whatever happens tomorrow, I need you to trust me.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
He hesitated.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“There's something about Brianna you don't know.””
The call disconnected.
May you like
And for the first time that night, I wasn't thinking about my ruined wedding dress.
I was wondering what my sister had done before she ever picked up those buckets of paint.
