You’ll Regret Stealing Him from Me — My Sister Who Took My Fiancé and Celebrated Was a Fool - Chapter 26

A week had passed since that disaster.

Every time my name was mentioned in high society, it seemed to be accompanied by hushed giggles.

“The party where the fountain went wild. Unprecedented!”

“The party where the food was a flop.”

“The party that ruined noblewomen’s dresses.”

—All of it was about me.

I had become the center of attention in high society but not in a good way. I was the butt of their jokes, not their praise.

And it wasn’t even my fault!

It was the staff who betrayed me. They didn’t prepare properly. They sabotaged it on purpose. And then, instead of taking responsibility, they pinned everything on me. They were the ones at fault, yet I was the one being blamed.

It wasn’t fair.

It really, really wasn’t fair.

But this time—this time, I would make it a success.

At the next party, I would achieve flawless perfection and wash away this humiliation. I would restore my reputation in high society. I would make them say, “As expected, Lady Isabella is magnificent,” and “Last time was just bad luck.”

Failure was not an option.

Absolutely not.

Even the Vandering family was watching me with cold eyes.

When I stayed at the estate, the servants’ gazes were icy. Because I had tarnished the Vandering name. Before, they had treated me with far more respect. Now, it was just the bare minimum; hollow, perfunctory courtesy.

And the head of the Vandering family, every time we crossed paths, his eyes were like daggers. That look terrified me.

“Don’t fail this time.”

That was what he said when we passed each other in the hallway. It wasn’t an order, it was closer to a threat. His tone was freezing.

As if I didn’t already know! He didn’t have to go out of his way to say it. What a terrible personality. He was just piling on unnecessary pressure. If I failed, it would be his fault.

That’s what I thought, but I bit it back with all my might.

If I argued now, my position would only worsen. For now, I had no choice but to endure. I had to keep enduring until I succeeded.

This time was different.

To avoid a repeat of last time, I wouldn’t do anything bold. Safe, ordinary just ensure success. That was my only goal.

No extravagant decorations, no eccentric dishes—nothing. Just ordinary would be fine.

Maybe last time was too avant-garde. Too ahead of its time. High society couldn’t keep up with my sensibilities. That’s what I decided to believe.

So this time, I would keep it ordinary.

A safe, run-of-the-mill party.

That would be my first step toward success.

The day of my first meeting with the newly hired staff.

Over a dozen staff members were gathered in the Vandering family’s drawing room.

I had fired all the previous staff.

Those traitors. The ones who had sabotaged me. It had to have been on purpose. There was no other explanation for such a failure. They ruined the party. Even if it wasn’t deliberate, I had no use for staff who failed so spectacularly.

This time was different. A fresh start with new staff.

I stood before them.

They were all lined up, faces serious. This should work. They wouldn’t betray me or fail like the last group.

“I’m entrusting you with the preparations for this party. Make sure there are no mishaps.”

I spoke with as much dignity as I could muster. The staff silently nodded.

“Understood? Then, let’s begin.”

After I spoke, silence lingered.

No one moved.

“…?”

Eventually, one staff member raised their hand.

“…Where should we start?”

“Huh?”

I couldn’t help but ask for clarification.

What are you talking about? I gave you the plan. Just follow it and start preparing.

“So, specifically, what should we do first?”

For a moment, I was at a loss for words.

The previous staff had moved before I even gave instructions. They checked the plan, prioritized tasks, and started their work without needing constant confirmation from me.

Did they really need step-by-step instructions just to prepare?

“I’ve provided a plan. Follow it and proceed accordingly.”

“Um, but what exactly should we start with?”

No matter how I phrased it, they kept asking the same thing. Did I have to spell out every little detail for them to move?

For a split second, the thought crossed my mind. The previous staff had been competent. But I immediately dismissed it. No, they were traitors. It was wrong to even consider relying on them again.

“…Start with the venue decorations.”

“Understood.”

Only then did they finally begin moving. No questions, no suggestions—nothing.

—Well, fine. As long as they follow instructions, it should be fine.

With that thought, I proceeded with the preparations. But this was only the beginning.

The decoration preparations began.

I provided the staff with the venue blueprint, the same one I’d used last time. It showed where to place each decoration.

“Arrange the decorations according to this blueprint. Understood?”

“…Which side is up?”

A staff member held the blueprint upside down as they asked.

“Huh?”

I couldn’t help but react.

What are you talking about? Just look at the blueprint, it’s obvious which side is up. What are you even doing?

“How are we supposed to read this blueprint?”

“Tch!”

It’s obvious at a glance!

I barely held back the words. This time, failure was not an option. I couldn’t afford to clash with the staff. If I yelled now and demoralized them, I’d fail again.

Patience. Patience.

“This side is up. Got it?”

I pointed as I explained.

“Understood.”

Finally, the staff member turned the blueprint the right way.

But my relief was short-lived.

“Where should the flowers go?”

Another staff member asked.

“Where does this painting go?”

“What angle for the lighting?”

“When should we set up the curtains?”

“Is this the right tablecloth color?”

Questions came flying one after another.

Every little thing, every single thing!

“It’s all written in the blueprint!”

I finally raised my voice.

The staff flinched.

“Yes, but we just wanted to confirm.”

One of them looked slightly intimidated. Why are you scared? You’re the ones who forced me to raise my voice by being incompetent!

I took a deep breath. Stay calm. To finish the preparations, I couldn’t lose my temper. Yelling would just waste time. I could get angry later after everything was done. After I succeeded, I could rage all I wanted.

“…Fine. The flowers go in the center of the table. The painting goes on that wall. The lighting should be at this angle.”

I explained each detail carefully.

The previous staff hadn’t needed this much hand-holding.

They understood the blueprint and worked without me having to say a word. They finished everything on their own.

—Ugh, this is exhausting.

But I had to endure. It was painful, but I had no choice. And when I thought about it, this way I could oversee every detail. If they tried to sabotage me again, I’d notice. That was the silver lining.

If I didn’t think that way, I wouldn’t be able to keep going. This time, I would succeed.

Days passed as we prepared the venue.

Decorations, food, music, guest arrangements, schedule management. Everything required my meticulous instructions. I didn’t even have the energy to get angry anymore. I just wanted to finish this. To be free from this hassle as soon as possible.

With the previous staff, it hadn’t been this hard.

Back then, I just gave the general direction, and they handled the rest. They took care of all the details. All I had to do was come up with ideas. It had been easy.

Now, it was different.

I had to make every single decision. I had to give every instruction. What even was this?

I was a noblewoman hosting a party not a servant. Yet here I was, forced to micromanage like one.

I was exhausted.

But somehow, I finished the preparations.

Safe, ordinary—nothing flashy.

Simple decorations. Classic dishes. Common music selections.

There was no way this could fail.

No one would complain. A safe, ordinary party.

With that belief, I sent out the invitations.

The scale was smaller than last time, with fewer guests. But it was still a decent number.

I waited for the replies.

A few days later.

The responses started coming in.

I opened the first one.

—Declined.

Just one. Maybe they were simply busy.

I opened the next.

—Declined.

My hands trembled slightly.

The next one.

—Declined.

“Why?!”

My voice shook.

I kept opening them.

Declined. Declined. Declined.

Pile after pile of rejections. Only a handful accepted.

When all the replies were in, I was stunned.

Over half had declined. No, more than half. Over two-thirds.

And those who had accepted.

“Only families closely tied to the Vandering.”

Those who attended out of obligation.

Those who couldn’t refuse.

And the rest—

I found out later—they were nobles who had heard about last time’s failure and came out of morbid curiosity.

“I wonder what kind of party it’ll be this time.”

“Will she fail again?”

“Sounds entertaining. Let’s go.”

Those kinds of onlookers.

My party wasn’t a spectacle!

I wasn’t hosting it to be laughed at!

I clenched my fists.

This was frustrating. So, so frustrating.

But there was nothing I could do.

This was the price of last time’s failure.

A single failure, and I’d lost this much trust.

And it wasn’t even my fault.

It was the previous staff who betrayed me.

They sabotaged it on purpose.

I wasn’t to blame. I had approached it with brilliant ideas.

This was the judgment high society had passed on me. To change that, I needed this party to succeed. But the attendees were pitiful. Just those who came out of obligation and rubberneckers.

I might avoid another disaster like last time. But even if it succeeded, would it restore my reputation?

Would it even mean anything?

I stood frozen, staring at the mountain of rejections.

That evening.

Roderick came to the drawing room. I stood to greet him, forcing composure.

“Lord Roderick.”

I consciously shaped my lips into a smile.

“I hear attendance is low.”

His voice was cold. No greeting, straight to the point. He should’ve been more considerate.

“…I’m doing my best.”

I was working harder than last time. Without a doubt. From morning till night, buried in preparations, exhausted yet pushing forward. All for success.

“Your best isn’t enough. I need results.”

His words were icy.

“Yes.”

I answered obediently.

But inside—

“I expect you to succeed this time. If you fail, neither of us knows what will happen.”

That was all he said. No help.

Just words.

Just complaints. That was all I got from him.

“Lord Roderick, won’t you assist me in some way?”

The words slipped out before I could stop them.

Roderick frowned.

“I’m no expert, so I won’t interfere. I’ve entrusted the party to you. I’m trusting you and waiting for results. That’s why I’m counting on you.”

“…Yes.”

Trusting me with words alone. No actual help.

Just selfish demands.

“You said ‘if I fail,’ but last time, you praised my ideas, didn’t you?”

The fountain, the exotic dishes, the trendy music.

You called all of it ‘brilliant.’

And now, you act like an outsider, refusing to get involved. You’re just pushing all the responsibility onto me.

I cursed him in my heart.

But I couldn’t say it out loud. It wouldn’t change anything.

I had no choice but to succeed. Results were all that mattered.

That was all.

“I will succeed without fail.”

I answered with as much confidence as I could muster.

Roderick nodded, satisfied.

“I’m counting on you.”

With those words, he left.

Alone in the drawing room, I clenched my fists.

I would succeed.

This time, without fail.