On the day of my wedding, my fiancé was nowhere to be found. Turns out, he was off dealing with the “fake daughter’s” latest breakdown. While everyone else stood around, awkward and silent, I made a bold decision. I dialed the one person I could think of—my childhood best friend, the one who’d been chasing after me for a decade.
“If you come, I’ll marry you,” I told him, hoping he’d understand just how much I needed him.
But his reply was nothing I’d expected. He let out a mocking laugh and sneered, “Do you really think that you’re special?”
Before he could finish, I heard the sweet, delicate voice of the fake daughter in the background.
And just before he hung up, I heard a soft, pleading voice in the background. “Nial, are you going to leave me too?”
Yet, half an hour later, both of them showed up at the venue. My fiancé, Shawn Donovan, stormed up to me, his face twisted with rage. Without a word, he slapped me hard across the face, sending me reeling backward. Uncoordinated and unfamiliar with wearing high heels, I lost my balance and crashed straight into the ten-tier wedding cake, now covered in sticky frosting and jam. I felt like a complete fool.
My childhood sweetheart put his hands in his pockets and looked at me with a hint of disgust.
Even my biological parents came over to blame me:
"You can have your wedding anytime, but Leta's matter cannot be delayed at all!"
But when I decided to give up all of them, they cried with red eyes.
——
“What is wrong with you?” he snapped. “Leta’s having breakdown. It’s a life-or-death situation and you’re worried about this stupid wedding. Where’s your compassion? Are you even human?”
My cheek burned with pain. I staggered back, the slap throwing me off balance in my unfamiliar heels and I crashed straight into the towering wedding cake. Sticky frosting and syrup clung to my designer gown, making me feel like the ultimate fool.
I looked toward Nial, hoping for some kind of support, but he just stood there with his hands in his pockets, watching me with disdain, a flicker of disgust in his eyes. I could feel a sharp ache spreading across my cheek and when I touched my nose, I realized it was warm and wet with blood, trickling down onto the pristine white of my gown.
“Shawn, are you out of your mind?” I gasped, my voice shaky as I shot him an incredulous look.
As soon as the words left my mouth, Shawn let out a mocking laugh. “Do you think I’d be here if it weren’t for Leta? She begged me to come and stand by you for this stupid wedding, threatening to hurt herself if I didn’t.”
In a fit of rage, he yanked a glass from the bottom of champagne tower. As the entire structure collapsed, the sound of breaking glass filled the air. He grabbed a bottle of champagne, holding it over my head, letting the sparkling liquid pour all over me until I was drenched, a sodden mess.
When the bottle was empty, he smashed it against the floor, crouching down to my level, his face twisted with fury. “This is what you want, right? A wedding toast ceremony. Here’s my toast for you,” he said, pouring the remnants of the champagne over my face.
The exploding glass pieces pierced my skin. The icy liquid seeped down from my hair to my face, stinging as it dripped down, mingling with blood and tears on my dress. I couldn’t even tell anymore if it was champagne or blood staining my gown.
He stood up tall, looking down at me, his expression victorious. “There… the ceremony is finished. Are you happy now, Mrs. Donovan?”
And there was Nial, hands still shoved in his pockets, watching the whole thing as if it were some kind of show. The crowd around us started to murmur in shock. Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I saw my parents making their way over. I thought they were coming to stand up for me. But my mother barely glanced my way. Her face was drawn tight with worry, her voice frantic as she spoke.
“Where’s Leta? She’s unstable now. How could you leave her alone? If anything happens to her, I’d rather die!”
My father took the microphone, his face tight with tension as he addressed the guests.
“I’m terribly sorry, everyone. Due to unforeseen circumstances, we’ll be canceling the wedding. All gifts will be returned and we offer our sincerest apologies for the inconvenience.”
He set down the microphone and turned to Shawn with a serious expression. “Lead the way. Let’s go find Leta.”
Chapter 2Just then, a heart-wrenching cry echoed from outside the grand entrance.
“Mom! Dad!”
The door swung open and there stood Leta, dressed in a flowing white gown, her face streaked with tears and panic. She stumbled in, her delicate ankles clattering against the floor in high heels that were both elegant and painfully loud. The Larsen Family had nurtured their little princess for over twenty years, teaching her poise and grace in every move she made. Even in her distress, as she ran and cried, there was a tragic beauty to her, a sight that drew pity from everyone around.
“Please don’t leave me! I don’t want to be alone!” she wailed, her voice breaking, and in that moment, all eyes turned toward her.
Mom was the first to react, tears spilling down her cheeks as she rushed to Leta. “Leta, sweetie, don’t be afraid! Mom is right here!”
Dad followed, his steps heavy with concern, an uncharacteristic softness breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. Even the most reserved of men could feel the weight of the moment and his eyes glistened with unshed tears.
Mom enveloped Leta in a tight embrace and Dad joined them, wrapping his arms around both of them, forming a protective barrier against the world.
Shawn, who had been watching from a distance, finally let out a breath he seemed to be holding. The love in his eyes for Leta was evident, practically shining through.
Nial glanced at me, shaking his head slowly, disappointment etched on his face. I didn’t respond, merely getting to my feet with a sense of shame weighing down on me.
A sharp pain shot through my ankle; I must have twisted it when I was pushed to the ground earlier. I tried to move in the opposite direction, but just as I took a few steps, someone yanked me back sharply.
I stumbled, turning to find Nial glaring at me, anger radiating from him.
“You’ve really let me down, Bronwyn. I can’t believe you did this.”
His voice was firm, though it trembled slightly with emotion. “All this time, I thought you were a strong and independent woman. I never expected you to be just like the others. Leta’s given up everything she had to you. Why can’t you just let her have a little bit of attention? I can see that you love it. Provoked her and put her life in danger.”
“Aren’t you ashamed of yourself?” he concluded with an accusation.
The remnants of blood and spilled wine on my face felt like a cruel reminder of my humiliation, a brand that marked me as unworthy. The beautiful gown I had carefully selected for the wedding was now nothing but a tattered mess, stained and unrecognizable. A wave of bitterness washed over me as I thought about it.
This dress was the most expensive piece of clothing I would ever wear. I had touched it countless time, feeling the soft fabric on my finger. I wrapped it and store it with full of care before the wedding, admiring its perfection and brilliance. I had waited so long for this day, dreaming of wearing it, envisioning myself walking down the aisle to marry Shawn, looking as brilliant as the Swarovskis adorning it—on what was supposed to be the happiest day of my life with the man I had secretly loved for years.
Six months ago, my whole life changed. Leta, the only daughter of the Larsen had been diagnosed with aplastic anemia. When her parents tried to give her their blood, they were dumbfounded to discover that their blood types didn’t match. A frantic search led them to my mother—my fake mother to be precise, the longtime housekeeper of the Larsens. In a moment of misguided compassion, she had switched me and Leta as infants, raising me as her own while keeping the truth hidden.
Unable to bear the thought of parting with her biological daughter, she became the maid of the Larsens for years. One reason was to earn a living and the other was to watch as her real daughter grew up. When the truth came out, she took her own life, drowning herself in the river near the Larsens' estate, leaving behind only a letter. I read that letter. It spanned two pages long and didn’t mention my name even once.
As soon as the truth came to light, the impact was too much for Leta to handle and she fell into a deep depression. In that moment of desperation, my biological father made a hasty decision: he swapped the marriage alliance with the Donovans, shifting it from Leta to me. He believed I was the better choice—healthy, resilient and equipped with a strong psychological constitution that made me well-suited for public appearances. Leta, in contrast, was fragile, better suited for the comforts of home and the role of a dutiful daughter.
Without a second thought, I agreed to the arrangement.
Shawn Donovan was the man I had secretly loved for as long as I could remember. When I was younger, I often visited the Donovans to help my foster mother with housework. During those times, when hunger gnawed at my stomach, I would watch Leta indulge in her snacks with a mix of longing and envy. It was Shawn who would often come over and invite me to join him. But I was too shy to accept, especially with Leta looking down on me, her disdainful gaze making me feel dirty and unworthy. Every time Leta was done scolding me, Shawn would steeped in, making me feel better,
“You don’t have to feel inferior. Everyone is equal in this world. Don’t let her words gets you,” he said softly.
From that day on, I developed a terrible crush on him. He became the greatest source of light; the star brightened my darkest days. His smile was warm like a fresh honey cake, golden and glistening from the bakery oven. But I was always a coward. I never had the courage to tell him how I felt and I was forced to be content with admiring him from a distance.
This went on for years, from the time I was twelve until I turned twenty-two. But everything changed on the day of the engagement banquet. As the clinking of glasses filled the air and the elders exchanged lighthearted banter, he broke his silence with a single question,
“How is Leta doing?”
At the mention of her name, the mood shifted. The room seemed to lighten, as if talking about her made everything better. I, however, shrank back into the corner, retreating into silence, while Shawn shot me a cold glance, muttering, “You’re not fit for the spotlight.”
His words struck me and I internalized them deeply, fueling my determination to change. I dedicated myself to learning the manners and etiquette of high society, bit by bit. I wanted nothing more than to be a good wife for him, to prove myself worthy of his love, to make sure I wouldn’t let him down. But what had that effort led to?
Chapter 3I learned belatedly that this marriage of convenience was originally just an exchange of interests. The Donovan family, entrenched in their lineage for three generations, needed a woman who could bear sons to continue their legacy. They knew too well the dangers that could accompany such a decision and the thought of losing their only daughter was unthinkable.
Then I came along, the unassuming alternative and suddenly, there seemed to be a way to satisfy everyone’s desires without sacrificing too much. It was an arrangement that offered the promise of fulfillment on both sides, but unfortunately, I was relegated to the role of the third party in this delicate dance. I was neither wanted nor needed; I was merely a placeholder in a game I never signed up to play.
Even Nial, who had grown up alongside me, quickly switched sides to support Leta once the truth came to light. Like me, he was the child of the Larsen servants and had faced his own share of bullying at Leta’s hands. Yet, when push came to shove, he chose the path of least resistance, siding with the one who had once tormented us both. I still vividly remember those childhood days when he held my hand and vowed to study hard, earn a fortune and rise above the Larsens so that Leta would never torment me again. His words echoed in my mind like a cruel joke, a promise now twisted by betrayal. How had it all come to this?
I stumbled out of the room, but the more I tried to escape, the more I felt trapped. The stains on my clothes clung to the floor and in a futile attempt to clean them, I only made them worse. Tears streamed down my face as the realization sank in. I should have given up long ago.
I fled the hotel, subconsciously heading back to the apartment I once shared with my fake mother. This place held over twenty years of not-so-great memories for me, but it’s the only place I could think in this distressful moment. With trembling fingers, I entered the door code, but an alert rang out, signaling that I was wrong. The sound piercing the silence. Undeterred, I tried once more, my heart pounding with anticipation. When the door finally swung open, I was met by the sight of a bald man with a beer belly. His eyes narrowed as he took in my disheveled appearance and spat on the ground. “Get off my property, you crazy bitch!” he barked, his words slicing through the air like a blade. With that, he slammed the door shut, leaving me standing there in shock.
I walked away, feeling a mix of anger and defeat swirling within me. This place wasn’t my home anymore, nor was the lavish Larsen estate, where I had once dreamed of belonging. The world outside felt just as hostile; even the stray dogs on the street barked at me as I passed. I clutched my wedding gown tightly, my steps unsteady as I sought refuge in a dimly lit corner, sinking down to sit on the ground. I felt invisible, a shadow cast aside.
I remembered a time when I picked up a discarded cup that Leta had thrown away. She had been furious, snatching it back and declaring that a ‘trash’ like me had no right to take her thrash.
Shawn had intervened, his brow furrowed in anger at her behavior. “You need to stop being so spoiled,” he had told her before turning to me with a polite smile, saying, “I’m sorry for her. Please forgive her.”
His kindness had been a small beacon in my darkest memories, a light I had clung to. But now, as I sat alone in the shadows, it felt as though all the light had been extinguished.
Chapter 4Nial had saved up his salary for two months to buy me a beautiful cup adorned with a princess image. His earnest eyes sparkled with excitement as he presented it to me. “Bronwyn, you deserve everything good in this world,” he declared. His words, so sincere, pierced through the layers of my despair, if only for a moment.
After the engagement and before the wedding day, memories of Shawn cradling Leta in his arms flooded my mind. She nestled comfortably against him while he comforted her, whispering softly, “I’ll always be by your side. No matter what.” His words echoed hauntingly in my thoughts and I had once dared to ask him why he loved her despite all her faults.
“Leta is headstrong and selfish. She has her quirks and leaves trouble wherever she goes and I’ve always been the one cleaning up her mess,” he had replied seriously. “But that’s what worries me. Without me, who will help her out of trouble?”
In that moment, I wanted to cry out, questioning whether the kindness he had shown me all those years was real or just a facade. But it all made sense now. He was simply used to cleaning up Leta's messes and I was just a convenient distraction he had unwittingly indulged. I had naively believed that his gestures were special, that they held some deeper meaning.
One day I stumbled upon Nial’s diary and read it. I’ll rise to the top and one day, Leta will have to look up at me, begging for mercy. I’ll make her love me completely, with no way out. I could feel his determination through the pages.
Then there were my biological parents. I had overheard my mother sobbing quietly in her bedroom, her voice laced with bitterness as she lamented, “Why isn’t Leta my real daughter?” She had always hated my dark skin, despised the way I kept my head down while eating and resented my timid nature that made me seem unworthy of being their child. My father would often sigh when he looked at me, muttering, “It’s just how things are. There's nothing we can do about it.”
I felt like a burden to them, a constant reminder of a mistake they could never erase. It was as if my existence had become their greatest source of suffering.
I clung to the last threads of delusion, staring at my reflection in the mirror, pulling at the corners of my lips to force a smile, practicing the etiquette and grace I thought would make me enough. I absorbed Shawn's cold stares and Nial's expectations, stretching myself to fit into the roles they wanted me to play. But no matter how hard I tried, I was always the invisible girl—overlooked, forgotten, drifting through life without purpose or direction.
As the night deepened, I found myself swallowed by an abyss of hopelessness, unable to struggle against the dark current that threatened to drown me. Just as my emotions began to calm, my phone rang. It was my father. Since returning to the Larsens, he had hardly made an effort to reach out, but now his voice was heavy with urgency.
“Who said you could leave? You walked out as soon as Leta arrived. Do you want her to feel sad again? Stupid brat, do you have any idea how this looks for her? Get yourself here, right now.” His words came tumbling out, sharp and accusatory, slicing through my already fragile state. “If you hadn’t insisted on calling Shawn, Leta wouldn’t be blaming herself! She’s unstable right now and keeps talking about apologizing to you. You have to apologize and explain yourself to her.”
“You have five minutes. Don’t let me down,” he added, his tone leaving no room for defiance.
I paused, clarity washing over me like a cold splash of water. “I’m not going back,” I stated firmly, feeling the strength in my voice. The Larsens, the Donovans—those lavish worlds never truly belonged to me and I had no desire to meddle in their affairs any longer.
The moment my words left my mouth, I heard my father’s feigned angry tone cut through the silence, a cruel reminder of my place.
“How long are you going to cause trouble? You’ve turned all our lives upside down and still being selfish as ever. Do you want Leta to die? Will that makes you happy?” He shouted, his frustration boiling over and just as he finished, I heard a different voice take over the call.
“I'm warning you, Bronwyn, if anything happens to Leta tonight, I won't let you off the hook,” It was Shawn's voice, cold and unyielding, a stark reminder of the anguish that had already begun to consume me. A rush of sadness washed over me, a dull ache settling deep in my heart, as I felt the weight of his words sink in. Suddenly, the world around me fell silent.
The world around me spun and on the other end of the phone, Shawn's anxious voice continued to blare, but I could no longer grasp his words. Maybe it was for the best. Any form of escape was welcome if it meant I could stop bearing this unbearable burden.
“You better pay attention. I’m a man of my word, Bronwyn. I will find out who hurt Leta. I don’t care if you are the real daughter of the Larsens!” His voice was filled with a simmering anger that cut through the haze of my thoughts.
He won’t let me off the hook? Whatever. Let him come. Then, my head crashed heavily against the ground. I felt no pain, only a strange sense of relief washing over me. Finally, some peace and quiet.