They Stole My Wedding I Returned To Paris

Chapter 2

After the ceremony, my parents and Damian all left to see Vanessa off. No one spared me a thought.

It was after midnight when I finally made it home.

The moment I opened the front door, I thought I had walked into the wrong house.

The cream wool rug in the living room was gone.

The warm yellow sofa had been replaced with bubblegum-pink leather.

The pale linen curtains had been swapped for lace.

The entire house we had prepared as newlyweds was unrecognizable.

I was still in my wedding gown, its train dragging through the dirt.

Damian emerged from the study with a trace of concern in his eyes.

"Why are you home so late?"

I met his gaze and asked,

"Why has everything in the house been replaced?"

He sighed, then spoke softly,

"Vanessa thought the old colors looked dated. She didn't like them, so I let her redo the place."

I stood in the middle of the living room, the cold tile beneath my feet.

The gown's rigid underskirt dug into my legs, and suddenly I couldn't breathe.

I had spent 6 full months perfecting the design of our home.

Back then, Damian had promised me, "Every detail in this house will be exactly the way you want it."

When I lived with my parents, they made me sleep in the storage room.

I had thought I would finally have a home of my own.

Instead, they had replaced the bride, and now they had replaced the home I designed.

Just then, my phone vibrated.

It was an email informing me that I had been disqualified from the International Jewelry Design Awards.

I opened it. The words on the screen stabbed straight into my eyes.

International Jewelry Design Awards: Following an investigation, we found substantial similarities between your submission, First Light, and fellow entrant Vanessa Hart's Nightfall. Due to suspected plagiarism... your entry has been disqualified...

I read the email three times.

Only then did I accept that I had truly been thrown out of the competition.

I turned and stared Damian down, my voice trembling.

"You were the only person I sent the original draft to. Why is Vanessa's design identical to mine?"

Something unreadable flickered in Damian's eyes. It took him a long moment to answer.

"Vanessa is up for a major promotion. She needs an international award to secure it. You're her sister. You should want to help."

"So you gave her my work?"

He said nothing, but his silence was confession enough.

My voice rose sharply.

"That was my original design! I spent 3 months on it and drew seven complete versions. I shaped every line and adjusted every setting by hand. What gave you the right to hand it to someone else?"

My refusal to let the matter go finally exhausted Damian's patience.

He frowned, irritation flashing across his face.

"There's $5 million on this card. Consider it compensation, and let this end here."

"$5 million... as compensation?"

I stared at the man before me.

Years ago, Verenia's most prestigious jewelry institute offered me a place.

But Damian had said, "I need you," so I gave up the fellowship without hesitation and came home to build his company with him from nothing.

He had sworn to me, "One day, everyone in the jewelry world will know the name Sienna Hart."

A laugh escaped me as a tear slipped from my eye.

"How much have I given this company over the years? I designed almost every piece it released. Did you ever pay me a cent in royalties?"

Damian looked at me, disappointment written all over his face.

"Royalties? Sienna, you're seriously asking me for royalties?"

He straightened his cuff, speaking as though his answer were self-evident,

"We're married. The moment you became a Whitmore, your designs became intellectual property belonging to Whitmore Group. You should be grateful I'm giving you $5 million!"

The man in front of me felt like a complete stranger.

The ambitious young man whose eyes once burned with dreams had become a grasping, calculating businessman.

I closed my eyes for a moment. When I spoke, my voice was numb,

"I want a divorce, Damian."