My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding

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My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding


My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding

Jenny Avatar


When Paige’s sister takes her fiancé, betrayal isn’t enough—she wants to rub it in her face. A year later, an invitation arrives. Erica is marrying the man she stole, and she wants Paige to witness it. But what Erica doesn’t realize is that Paige has a plan. By the end of the night, the bride’s perfect day will be shattered.


I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.


That much was obvious from the sideways looks and hushed whispers that followed me as I moved through the grand hall.


I’ll admit, the wedding setup was breathtaking. Erica had gone all out, decorating the venue in gold and ivory. The guests were dressed to the nines in expensive gowns and tailored tuxedos. Everything looked… flawless.


But no amount of elegance could hide the ugliness underneath.


This wasn’t just any wedding. This was *her* wedding.


Erica.


My younger sister. My parents’ favorite. The one who always got everything handed to her while I had to fight for every little thing I achieved.


And now?


She had taken the one thing that was supposed to be mine.


Stan.


Stan had been my fiancé. He was supposed to be my future. The man I loved and trusted—until I came home early from work one night and found them together in *our* bed.


I still remember how he froze, his face filled with guilt. As for my sister? She just smirked, her voice dripping with satisfaction.


“I won, Paige,” she said simply. “Checkmate.”


A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year planning was canceled, and I lost most of my deposits to the vendors. Meanwhile, Erica and Stan no longer had to hide. They were officially a couple.


After that, I left town for a few weeks, moving between hotels while working remotely. I tried to put it all behind me, and eventually, I did. When I was ready, I moved back home and adopted a kitten.


Then, the invitation arrived.


And now, a year after the betrayal, here I was, standing in the middle of their celebration, invited as nothing more than a spectator to their so-called victory.


I’m sure it was my parents who pressured her to invite me. If Erica had her way, she never would have sent that invitation. Or maybe she would have—just to gloat. She was that kind of person.


But what Erica didn’t know, what no one knew, was that tonight, I wasn’t here to mourn my loss.


I was here to make sure Erica would never forget what she had done to me. And with that, she would never forget the surprise I had planned for her wedding reception.


The ceremony was a blur. I stood near the back, barely listening as the officiant talked about love and commitment. Honestly, it was all just empty words.


Stan, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, gazed at Erica with a look of adoration I knew was fake. She, in turn, beamed up at him like she had won the ultimate prize.


I almost laughed.


*Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart,* I thought, sipping my champagne.


By the time the reception began, the hall was alive with laughter and clinking glasses. A large screen behind the dance floor displayed a slideshow of their engagement photos—Stan lifting Erica into the air, their foreheads touching as they smiled at each other.


If you didn’t know the history, you might have thought they were genuinely happy.


And maybe they were. Maybe this was how things were meant to be.


But I wasn’t going to let it go that easily. I wasn’t going to just walk away.


Why should Erica get her happily-ever-after, especially after all the pain and betrayal she had caused me?


No. Not a chance.


Soon, their perfect little fairytale was about to take a turn.


I moved through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress fitting perfectly. I wasn’t dressed like a guest. I was dressed like a reckoning, and I felt more confident than I had in a long time.


When I reached the laptop connected to the projector, I inserted my flash drive. A few clicks, a deep breath, and then…


Showtime.


At first, no one noticed. The guests continued sipping champagne and nibbling on appetizers, lost in conversation. The bridal couple made their way through the crowd, stopping to chat and hug people as they went.


Then, Stan’s voice filled the hall.


“Please, don’t leave me!”


The video played on the massive screen, the footage grainy from the security camera in my bedroom. Stan was on the bed, his face streaked with tears. I stood on the other side, listening to him try to “explain” what had happened between him and my sister.


“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you, Paige! I made a huge mistake!”


A heavy silence fell over the room.


I turned to look at Erica.


Her face went pale.


Stan, too, stood frozen, his eyes wide. His hands twitched at his sides.


But I wasn’t done yet.

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