You’ll Regret Stealing Him from Me — My Sister Who Took My Fiancé and Celebrated Was a Fool - Chapter 2

“Isabella, come here!”

Lord Roderick waved toward the back of the venue. I was stunned.

That girl wasn’t invited tonight.

And yet, she arrived as if it were only natural. My younger sister, Isabella Altvier, stood there in an extravagant dress, determined to outshine everyone in the room. A deep crimson velvet gown, a necklace studded with an excessive number of jewels. Her gaudy attire clashed horribly with the refined atmosphere of the evening. Uninvited, yet acting as if she were the guest of honor.

If I could, I’d send her away this instant. I could see the confusion on the faces of the attendees. Of course, they’d be bewildered. An unlisted guest had just waltzed in as if she owned the place. What happened to security?

“Why is Isabella here?”

When I asked, Lord Roderick answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, shrugging as though I’d asked something foolish.

“I invited her.”

“Why?”

“So, you can’t weasel your way out of this. So, everyone here can know the truth.”

How presumptuous. During our prior discussions, there had been no mention of allowing Isabella into the venue. This had been deliberately hidden from me, a trap carefully laid behind my back. A fully orchestrated scheme.

Anger surged in my chest. To turn the party, I had worked so hard to prepare into some kind of farce. How utterly disrespectful to the noble guests in attendance.

“Sister, today you’ll finally admit it! That you stole my achievements!”

My sister appeared out of nowhere, declaring this with a triumphant look, as if she were delivering my sentence.

“…What are you talking about? When have I ever stolen anything from you?”

I struggled to remain composed. Even in a situation like this, I couldn’t afford to lose my dignity as a noble lady. The piercing gazes around me stung, but I couldn’t show any sign of distress.

“Even this party you copied my ideas wholesale, didn’t you? The decorations are exactly what I envisioned before. The white-and-gold color scheme, the roses and baby’s breath; all of it was my idea! Even the menu, those dishes were ones I suggested. The roast beef with that special sauce, the seasonal vegetable terrine, even the music! The string quartet’s selection, I was the one who proposed it! And yet, Sister, you took it all for yourself without a word. You never once acknowledged that I was the one who came up with it. You acted like you arranged everything on your own!”

Isabella’s voice grew louder, echoing through the venue. Her accusations were specific, sounding almost convincing. But—

When had I ever taken advice from her?

I had never once discussed social gatherings with Isabella. Some details were confidential even family wasn’t privy to them. The guest list, budget allocations, the schedule. All of it was highly sensitive information.

I had been thorough. No matter how much she had pestered me with questions, no matter how interested she had seemed, I had never shared a single detail.

And yet, here she was, lying about having advised me, claiming I had stolen her ideas.

“I even have witnesses!”

Isabella waved her hand, and several young women emerged from the corner of the room. Four of them, dressed in flashy attire that marked them as her hangers-on.

They looked visibly nervous, their eyes darting around as they gauged Isabella’s mood. Wait, I didn’t recognize them. Had they also snuck in uninvited? Had Lord Roderick instructed security to let them in?

This was a serious breach. If the guests tonight pointed this out, there’d be no excuse. Some of the most distinguished nobles in the kingdom were here. Forget annulling engagements, this was a matter of responsibility as the host. One headache after another.

I was sick of it. Truly, utterly fed up.

Ignoring me completely, Isabella turned to her friends with a theatrical gesture.

“Right, girls? I’ve told you before, haven’t I? That I wanted to use this kind of approach someday. That I wanted to host a social gathering just like this. And now, right before my eyes, someone’s taken it all for themselves. My dreams, stolen by my own sister.”

Her voice trembled, playing the victim perfectly.

“Yes. I’ve heard it from Lady Isabella before. All those wonderful ideas she came up with,” one of her followers answered, as if confirming the truth.

Isabella looked around at her friends with satisfaction.

“See? The others have heard it too, haven’t they? About my original ideas, long ago?”

Her friends nodded in unison, like puppets following a conductor’s cue. Their movements were so mechanical, it felt like a rehearsed act.

“That’s right.”
“I definitely heard about it.”
“They were Lady Isabella’s ideas.”

The girls chimed in one after another.

“That settles it. Admit it already, Seraphina. Admit that you stole Isabella’s achievements!”

Lord Roderick declared triumphantly.

I was completely surrounded. This was a planned, systematic trap; designed to isolate me entirely.

The surrounding nobles watched this spectacle unfold. Murmurs spread through the venue, whispers hidden behind folding fans. The elegant social gathering had, in the blink of an eye, turned into a public execution.