Chapter 3
1682 Words
LEXI
My jaw tightens.
Plan her wedding?
For a second I just stare at Glenn, convinced I must have heard wrong. The ring on her finger keeps flashing in the light as she wiggles her hand, admiring it like a child with a new toy.
“What?” The word slips out before I can stop it.
Glenn’s smile widens. “The wedding. You’ll help plan it, right?”
My stomach twists.
The audacity of this girl.
“You can’t be serious,” I say, pushing myself up from the floor. My legs feel shaky but the anger rising in my chest steadies me. “You want me to plan your wedding? To him?”
Glenn blinks innocently.
Behind her, my mother lets out a sharp sigh, like I’m the one being difficult.
“Of course you will,” she says flatly.
I turn to her, stunned. “Mum—”
“You caused this mess,” she cuts in. “The least you can do is fix it.”
Fix it?
My hands curl into fists.
“I’m not fixing anything,” I say, shaking my head. “If Glenn wants a wedding planner, she can hire one.”
The slap comes out of nowhere.
Pain explodes across my cheek as my head jerks to the side.
For a moment the room goes completely still.
I taste blood.
“Watch your tone,” my mother says calmly, like she didn’t just hit me again. Her eyes are cold, completely unmoved. “You will do it.”
I slowly turn back to face her, my cheek burning.
“Mum…”
“You’ll plan this wedding,” she continues, her voice deadpan, “unless you’d rather be out of the family business.”
My stomach drops.
She knows exactly where to hit.
The Thompsons’ Hotels and Resorts is everything. I’ve spent years learning the business. Years helping build it. Years dreaming about taking it over one day.
And she knows it.
“You wouldn’t—”
“Try me.”
Her expression doesn’t change.
Then she turns away like the conversation is finished.
“Come,” she says to my stepfather.
He moves toward Julian, reaching out to give his shoulder another pat, but Julian steps back before his hand can land and walks past him without sparing me a single glance.
The front door shuts behind them with a soft click.
Silence settles over the room.
It’s just me and Glenn.
For a moment neither of us moves, the air thick and heavy between us—until Glenn suddenly claps her hands together, her face lighting up.
“Oh my gosh, this is going to be so fun!”
My stomach churns.
She plops down onto the couch like we’re two friends about to plan a party.
“So I was thinking,” she says, swinging her legs, “maybe a garden wedding? With those huge white flower arches and fairy lights everywhere.”
My chest tightens.
That was my idea.
The exact wedding I’d sketched out in my planner months ago.
“But also,” she continues quickly, “a beach ceremony could be amazing too. Imagine the sunset pictures!”
Another one.
Another idea I’d once dreamed about for myself.
She leans forward, eyes sparkling.
“Oh! And we have to do a champagne tower. And maybe a live orchestra. Or a string quartet. Or both!”
My nails dig into my palms.
She keeps talking.
“And the dress… oh my gosh, I want something dramatic. Like a huge train. And maybe two dresses! One for the ceremony and one for the reception.”
Every word feels like a knife twisting deeper into my chest.
Because every idea she throws out, every single one… was once part of the wedding I imagined for myself.
The wedding I thought I’d have with Julian.
Now I’m standing here listening to my stepsister plan it with him instead.
Using my skills.
My ideas.
My work.
For her.
I swallow hard, staring at the sparkling ring on her finger.
God. I hate this and I hate her.
After what seems like forever, she finally stops but her gaze doesn’t leave me.
The sweetness on her face melts away, replaced by smug satisfaction.
“Well,” she chuckles, twirling the ring around her finger, “I guess everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”
My brow furrows. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Glenn lets out a small laugh.
“Oh, come on, Lexi. Don’t tell me you still don’t get it.”
My gaze flicks to the ring on her finger.
“Get what?”
“That this?” She lifts her hand again, turning it so the diamond catches the light. “This was always meant to be mine.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You really don’t know?”Glenn tilts her head, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Wow. Mum really did keep you in the dark.”
A chill crawls up my spine.
“Know what?”
Glenn leans back against the couch like she doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Well…” She glances at the ring on her finger, turning it slightly. “Mum was planning to hand the company over to you once you married Julian.”
For a second, I just stare at her.
What?
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I say slowly. “Why would my marriage have anything to do with the company?”
Glenn shrugs.
“It made perfect sense. The Lane family has money. Connections.” Her lips curl into a small, satisfied smile. “Your marriage would’ve merged the businesses. You two would’ve been the perfect little power couple.”
Mum never told me that. Not once. All those late nights working for the company… all the times she said I was “learning the ropes.” Was that the plan all along?
“That’s…” I shake my head. “That’s not—”
“But then,” Glenn cuts in, her smile widening, “I realized something.”
She taps her fingers lightly against the armrest.
“If I took your place…”
My stomach twists as the thought clicks into place.
No.
“…then the company would be mine instead.”
The words land like a punch to the chest.
For a moment I can’t breathe.
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Her eyes gleam.
“Mum always liked me better anyway.”
My chest tightens.
“No,” I whisper.
“Oh yes.” Glenn smiles sweetly, like we’re sharing a harmless secret. “You were just the convenient option. The responsible daughter. The one who could actually run things.”
She leans forward, lowering her voice.
“But now I get Julian and the company.”
For a second the words don’t register.
Then they sink in.
The company.
My father’s company.
The one he built from nothing, working late nights and endless weekends until the business finally stood on its own feet.
The one he used to talk about with so much pride when I was little, sitting me on his lap in his office chair.
One day this will be yours, pumpkin.
My throat tightens and my vision blurs.
“You…” My voice trembles as I look back at her. “You planned this?”
Glenn shrugs lazily.
“I just gave things a little push.”
Rage surges through me, hot and sharp.
“You ruined my life!” I lung toward her before I even realize it.
Glenn jumps back with a startled laugh and shoves me away hard.
I skid across the rug, my foot catching, and tumble backward with a sharp thud. Pain explodes through my lower body, sharp and searing.
For a moment, I lie there, stunned, trying to catch my breath.
A sudden, wet heat hits me, and my stomach drops.
I jerk upright, panic clawing through me.
My hand flies down to my thighs.
Red.
Blood.
It seeps through my fingers, warm and sticky, and my chest tightens as nausea twists my stomach.
No.
No, no, no.
What’s this? Why is there blood?
“Ew,”
I lift my head to see Glen staring down at me, brows pulled together in a twisted frown.
“What did you get yourself into?”
“I—” My voice shakes. “Glenn…”
I try to push myself up, but the moment I move, a stabbing pain rips through my abdomen, sharp enough to steal the air from my lungs.
A strangled gasp tears from my throat.
My arms give out, and I collapse back onto the floor, my heart hammering in my chest.
Something’s wrong.
Something’s very wrong.
“Glenn,” I gasp, my voice breaking. “Help me up.”
She doesn’t move.
Just stands there, staring down at me like I’m something she’d rather wipe off her shoe.
Then she flicks her hand dismissively.
“Oh, please,” she laughs, faintly amused. “Don’t start with the drama again.”
A fresh wave of pain cuts through me, hot and sharp.
I clutch my stomach, my fingers trembling.
“I… I can’t stand,” I whisper, panic tightening my chest.
Glenn tilts her head and exhales, like I’ve personally ruined her day.
“That sounds like a you problem.”
I try to push myself up, my heart hammering, but she’s already moving past me toward the staircase.
“Glenn—” I manage, my voice cracking.
She pauses on the first step, glancing back. My chest tightens as her eyes meet mine and the corner of her mouth lifts into that familiar, cruel little smile.
“Try not to bleed all over the floor,” she says, her tone light, almost casual, as if she’s making a joke. “It’ll be annoying to clean.”
And just like that, she’s gone, climbing the stairs with effortless grace, while I remain on the floor, trembling, alone and bleeding.
- Writer
