You’ll Regret Stealing Him from Me — My Sister Who Took My Fiancé and Celebrated Was a Fool - Chapter 41

Everyone is looking at me. With suspicion. With blame. With contempt. I need to say something to escape this situation. But how?

As I stood frozen, the doors to the venue burst open.

The atmosphere shifted instantly. An overwhelming presence enveloped the entire room.

It was the head of the Vandering ducal family, Roderick’s father. Clad in a deep navy coat, the ducal crest gleaming on his chest, he strode in with a retinue of attendants, all wearing stern expressions.

Huh? Why?

I hadn’t invited the family head. Even if this was his son’s fiancée’s party, I didn’t think it warranted his personal attendance. Besides, he usually avoided such gatherings.

But he came.

He rushed here. Surely, to resolve this situation.

I was being denounced, helpless, but…

The duke took his place at the center of the room. The gazes fixed on me shifted to him. No one spoke. Not the duchess who had been condemning me, nor the surrounding nobles. Everyone held their breath, watching him.

Only silence remained. Heavy, suffocating tension.

“My apologies,”

A deep, commanding voice resonated through the hall.

“But tonight’s festivities must come to an end.”

His declaration to end the party, to protect me. To prevent further accusations. Ah, thank goodness. Really, thank goodness.

“Everyone, disperse. A formal apology will be issued by House Vandering at a later date.”

His tone brooked no argument. Cold, absolute authority. No room for debate.

The attendees exchanged glances.

Displeased expressions. Faces itching to protest. Yet no one dared oppose the duke’s word.

The accusations against me faded into nothing.

“Well, it’s not like we could continue anyway.”
“What a disastrous party.”

Muttering under their breaths, the guests filed out one by one, expressions resigned or exasperated.

As they left, many cast glances my way. Cold, disdainful.

But it’s fine now. The family head will protect me. What a relief. No more interrogations.

I watched as the room emptied.

Footsteps faded. One by one, the guests departed.

Then silence.

I’m saved.

Truly saved. My pounding heart gradually steadied.

Only the duke, Roderick, the staff, and I remained. No outsiders left.

The duke looked at me. Stern eyes. Cold eyes. A piercing gaze that seemed to see right through me.

“You. Come with me.”

Perhaps to discuss how to handle the aftermath. How to apologize, how to settle things. I nodded and obeyed. Best to comply without resistance.

“Roderick, you too.”

Roderick was also summoned. He nodded silently, his expression stiff. He hadn’t spoken a word this entire time.

As the duke strode forward, I followed, Roderick falling in step beside me. The awkwardness was palpable. He refused to even look at me.

We left the venue.

My crimson silk dress clung uncomfortably to my sweat-drenched skin, but there was no time to change. My makeup was ruined, my hair disheveled, the hairpiece unbearably heavy. I wanted to fix myself, but discussions came first. I couldn’t possibly say, “Wait, I need to change.”

We returned to the estate, the grand Vandering ducal manor. Led to the duke’s study, the entire walk passed in silence. No one spoke. Only the sound of footsteps echoed softly. I thought I’d been rescued, but something felt off.

I assumed we’d discuss the next steps, but something was wrong. Strange.

Entering the study—a vast, imposing room lined with bookshelves, a massive desk at its center.

The duke took his seat. Roderick and I remained standing. Exhausted, yet no invitation to sit came. Sitting without permission would be improper. But I wanted to. Were we to talk like this?

“Explain yourselves.”

The duke’s voice filled the room—low and heavy, just as it had in the hall.

“About tonight’s debacle.”

Debacle. How much had he seen? How much did he know? How should I explain? I needed him to understand I wasn’t at fault, but before I could gather my thoughts, Roderick began speaking unprompted.

About the unexpectedly large turnout. The reception mishaps delaying guest verification. The overcrowding exceeding capacity. The insufficient time for greetings, leaving half unattended. The stifling heat causing guests discomfort. And the fireworks incident launched at the wrong time, inciting panic.

He rattled on without pause. I wanted to interject, to ensure the situation was properly understood, but the duke’s gaze silenced me. A wordless command: Not yet.

Roderick’s account of the night’s events. It made it sound like my fault. But it wasn’t! A series of unfortunate circumstances, nothing more. I wasn’t to blame. Heart pounding, I waited my turn to speak.

I had to explain properly.

Finally, Roderick finished. He exhaled deeply and fell silent.

My turn, I thought, opening my mouth but the duke raised a hand to stop me. Huh? Won’t he let me speak? I need to explain!

“Lady Isabella.”

Hearing my name, I straightened.

“Did you plan tonight’s event?”

“Y-yes!”

I answered immediately. Of course, it was my plan.

“But there were miscommunications with the staff. Mistakes in relaying information caused the issues. I’ve identified the problem. If we fix that, next time will go smoothly!”

I pleaded my case. It wasn’t my fault. The staff who didn’t follow instructions were to blame. The miscommunications. That was the core issue. Once fixed, everything would be perfect!

I explained thoroughly. Yet the duke’s gaze remained severe. Unchanged. Cold, sharp eyes locked onto me.

I needed to elaborate. Make him understand. But as I prepared to continue, something was placed before me.

A heavy thud.

“Did you base your plans on this?”

“Th-that’s—?!”

Before me lay my sister’s planning documents—thick notebooks, detailed charts, timetables, decoration layouts, staff assignments. The very materials I had hidden away in my room. How were they in the duke’s hands?!

My blood ran cold. My mind blanked.

Why? Why are these here?!