"You stay away from this wedding," he snarled. "If you try to ruin this, I swear, I will make you regret it."
Jaxon just stood there, choosing his mistress over me, watching as my own family turned on me.
They thought they had broken me, casting me out as the crazy, unstable sister.
But as I fled that night, I made a vow.
They would all pay. And I would be the one to collect.
Chapter 1
Alexandra Hoffman POV:
The silk dress slipped through my fingers, cool and heavy, a stark contrast to the boiling heat simmering beneath my skin. It was the color of fresh cream, a subtle elegance I had chosen for the rehearsal dinner, a night meant to celebrate my brother Hanson' s impending marriage. I held it up to the mirror, my reflection a picture of serene anticipation. Jaxon would love it. He always loved me in white.
"What' s with the bridal gown, Alex?"
Jaxon' s voice cut through the quiet of the bedroom, sharp and unexpected. I turned, a smile already forming on my lips, but it faltered at the sight of him. His jaw was tight, eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his cheek. He wasn' t smiling.
"It' s not a bridal gown, Jaxon. It' s for the rehearsal dinner. Do you like it?" I asked, trying to keep my tone light, but a knot had already begun to form in my stomach.
He scoffed, a short, humorless sound. "You' re really going all out, aren' t you? You know, sometimes it feels like you're trying to outshine everyone, even your own brother on his big day."
My smile vanished completely. "Outshine? Jaxon, what are you talking about? It' s just a dress. I thought it was appropriate." My mind raced, trying to understand his sudden hostility. Had I misjudged the occasion? But no, my mother had specifically said elegant, not flashy.
He walked over, snatching the dress from my hand. His touch was rough, his gaze dismissive as he crumpled the fabric. "Appropriate? You mean, 'look-at-me-I' m-the-perfect-sister-and-girlfriend' appropriate. Honestly, Alex, give it a rest. This isn' t about you."
Confusion clouded my thoughts. Jaxon had always been my biggest supporter, admiring my style, encouraging my ambitions. This was... new. It felt like a deliberate jab, aimed squarely at my confidence. Perhaps he was just stressed about the wedding, I reasoned. He had never been close to Hanson, always found him a bit overbearing. Maybe he was just projecting.
"Jaxon, what' s wrong? You' re acting strange," I said, reaching for his arm, but he pulled away.
He paced the room, his frustration palpable. "Karla' s already having a tough time with all the wedding planning. She feels like everyone' s judging her, especially with all the attention on you. Can you just... dial it back a bit? For her sake?"
My hand dropped to my side. Karla. Hanson' s fiancée. The mention of her immediately soured the air. I' d always tried to be welcoming, but Karla had a way of making everything about her, drawing sympathy with a flick of her wrist and a well-timed sigh. Jaxon, usually so discerning, seemed to fall for it every time.
"Karla? What does Karla have to do with my dress?" My voice was quiet, laced with an unease I couldn't quite shake.
"She' s fragile, Alex. Unlike you. You' re strong. You can handle a little less attention," he said, his words a thinly veiled accusation, a subtle twist of the knife. He was asking me to shrink myself, for someone else' s comfort. My gut churned. I wanted to push, to ask why he knew Karla was feeling judged, why he was so invested in her emotional state. But I bit my tongue. I usually did. It was easier to keep the peace.
He picked up my phone, which had just buzzed with an incoming video call. It was Hanson. "Oh, look, the happy couple calls," Jaxon muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He answered it before I could even object, holding the phone up to his face, effectively blocking me from view.
"Hey, Hanson, what' s up?" Jaxon' s voice was suddenly jovial, a complete shift from moments before.
I peered around Jaxon' s shoulder, trying to catch a glimpse of my brother. There was Hanson, smiling, a glass of champagne in his hand. And then I saw her. Karla. Lounging on the sofa behind him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hand casually stroking his arm. She looked up, her eyes meeting mine over Jaxon' s shoulder, and a smug, knowing smirk touched her lips before she quickly averted her gaze, affecting an innocent expression.
"Oh, hi, Alex! We were just celebrating finding the perfect venue for the post-wedding brunch. It' s absolutely stunning, you' ll love it," Karla chirped, her voice overly sweet, a performance for Hanson' s benefit. She leaned into Hanson, pressing a kiss to his cheek. Hanson chuckled, completely oblivious.
Jaxon, without consulting me, interjected. "That sounds great, Karla. Alex and I would love to check it out with you guys later. She' s just finishing up getting ready."
My eyes widened. He hadn' t even asked me. He just accepted. He just spoke for me. It was a familiar pattern, one I usually let slide. He rarely wanted to spend time with my family, always had an excuse to skip family gatherings, claiming he hated the pretense, the forced smiles. But now, for Karla, he was volunteering us for an extra event. The contrast was jarring.
A cold wave washed over me as I watched Karla' s hand drift from Hanson' s arm, down to his chest, her fingers lingering suggestively. He didn' t seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn' t care. My own memories flickered – Jaxon always finding reasons to avoid my family. My mother' s birthday, my father' s golf tournament, even our annual holiday dinner. He'd always claimed family events were 'too much' for him. Now, he was practically inviting himself to one with Karla.
Karla' s eyes met mine again, a flash of something possessive and predatory in their depths. She tightened her grip on Hanson' s arm, leaning closer to his ear, whispering something that made him laugh. Then she pulled back, her gaze returning to me, a silent challenge. I felt a prickle of unease, a sense of being observed, judged, and somehow, already dismissed.
"Oh, Alex, darling," Karla purred, her voice carrying clearly through the phone, "Your Jaxon is just the sweetest. Always looking out for me. He' s been such a rock during all this stress." She giggled, a breathy, affected sound.
My stomach dropped like a stone. Your Jaxon. The way she said it. The way she emphasized your. It was a taunt. A challenge. Looking out for me. The words echoed in my head, cold and hollow.
"He' s always sweet, Karla," I managed, my voice thin, almost breaking. My mind raced, trying to make sense of the sudden chill that had permeated the room. There was something in her tone, a subtle shift, a familiar intimacy that made my heart pound with dread.
Jaxon, seemingly oblivious, or perhaps deliberately ignoring the loaded subtext, just grunted in agreement. "Yeah, well, someone has to keep everyone sane." He gave a half-hearted chuckle.
Karla' s gaze lingered on mine for a beat too long, a triumphant glint in her eyes, before she turned her full attention back to Hanson, playfully swatting his arm. My heart sank deeper into my chest. That look. It wasn't just a smirk anymore. It was a declaration. A claim.
Jaxon finally ended the call, his jovial demeanor instantly dropping. He turned to me, his expression softening slightly. "Look, I know this is a lot. But Karla just needs a little extra consideration right now. It' s her wedding." He reached out, pulling me into a hug, his arms tight around me. His touch, usually so comforting, now felt like a cage.
I wanted to pull away, to scream, to ask him what was truly going on. But we were in public, or as public as our hotel suite could get with the doors open during a family event. I couldn' t make a scene. My eyes, however, instinctively darted back to the phone screen, still displaying Hanson and Karla' s smiling faces. And then, I saw it. Karla, glancing subtly our way, her eyes narrowed, a pure, unadulterated flicker of jealousy before her face smoothed back into a picture of serene happiness.
She saw us. She saw him hugging me. And she was jealous.
A cold dread seeped into my bones. This wasn't just about a dress, or a stressful wedding. This was something else entirely.
Karla, as if reading my mind, suddenly appeared at the door of our suite, holding her own phone. "Oh, Jaxon, darling, I was just about to call you. Hanson and I were wondering if you and Alex would like to join us for a quick drink downstairs tonight? A little pre-rehearsal dinner toast, just the four of us." Her eyes, however, were fixed on me, a challenging glint in their depths.
"Are you two doing okay?" she asked, her voice laced with mock concern, her gaze sweeping over my clinging silk dress. "You guys have been together for so long. I mean, what is it, five years now? Still not walking down the aisle yourselves?"
A sharp, painful jolt went through me. Five years. And all the times Jaxon had brushed off my subtle hints, my quiet hopes for a future with him. "Marriage is just a piece of paper, Alex," he'd always said, "Our love is more real than that." Or, "Let's not rush things, sweetie. We have forever." All those excuses, now ringing hollow and false.
Hanson, oblivious to the undercurrents, walked up behind Karla, putting an arm around her waist. "Yeah, Alex, what' s the holdup? Jaxon' s a catch. Don' t tell me you' re getting cold feet before my big day." He chuckled, clearly thinking it was a joke.
I felt a fresh wave of betrayal wash over me, a bitter taste in my mouth. Jaxon had always claimed he wasn't ready, that he wanted to focus on his career, that he wasn't the marrying type. But was it truly about him, or was it about me? Had he been stringing me along, all while having someone else on the side? The thought was a poisoned dart, striking at the very core of our relationship. All those years, all those reassurances, all those promises-were they all just lies?
Jaxon, sensing the tension, quickly pulled away from me, moving towards Karla. "Don' t tease Alex, Hanson. We' re just happy as we are, right, babe?" He glanced at me, a tight, forced smile on his face.
I looked down at the crumpled cream dress in my hand. It no longer felt elegant. It felt like a shroud. I remembered Jaxon's earlier comment about Karla's fragility, his insistence that I should dial it back. The pieces, ugly and sharp, began to click into place.
My eyes met Karla' s, and the smug triumph that flickered there, quickly masked, confirmed my deepest fear. She knew. She had always known. And she was relishing every moment of my quiet agony.
Jaxon, turning back to me, held up the dress. "This really isn't suitable, Alex. It' s too... much. Give it to Karla. She really needs something to lift her spirits, and it would look amazing on her." He offered it to Karla with a deferential smile.
My breath hitched. He was not asking. He was commanding. And he was giving my dress, chosen for our evening, to her. The audacity. The sheer, brutal disrespect. My world tilted.