Chapter 9 Operation: Ruin the Wedding

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The afternoon sun, a malevolent eye, cast long, accusing shadows across Katherine's plush white yet dull bedroom. Dust motes danced in the golden light, like tiny, silent fireworks celebrating the end of her world. She lay sprawled across her king-sized bed, a half-empty glass of merlot, a testament to her despair, precariously balanced on the nightstand. The television, perpetually tuned to reruns of "Friends," droned softly in the background, the familiar laughter of the six friends a cruel mockery of her own shattered happiness.

Her eyes flitted across the screen, each comment on the Willow Whispers blog a tiny barb piercing her already wounded heart.

"Isn't it weird to marry your ex-wife's sister?"

Katherine scoffed. "Weird?" she muttered to herself, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Weird doesn't even begin to cover it."

She scrolled further, encountering more barbed comments, each one a tiny shard of glass tearing at her soul.

"Castiel divorced his wife just so he could marry her clone XD"

"I suppose you can do anything if you're rich enough, even convince your ex-wife's twin to marry you so you can replace her."

"How is everyone okay with this?"

"This is kinda disgusting."

"I get that he's rich, but did Caroline really have to marry her twin's ex?"

"That Caroline seems like a snake honestly."

Katherine snorted, a hollow laugh escaping her lips. "Snake?" she whispered, her voice barely audible above the muffled laughter emanating from the television. "Well, they're not wrong about that."

A wave of bitter memories crashed over her, each memory a sharp shard of glass tearing at her soul.

The images swirled in her mind, a kaleidoscope of pain and betrayal: their first meeting, a chance encounter at the high school hallway; their whirlwind romance, fueled by youthful passion and reckless abandon; the intoxicating rush of falling in love, believing it would last forever; the gradual erosion of trust, the insidious whispers of doubt creeping in, like a venomous vine slowly choking the life out of their love; the bitter taste of heartbreak, the soul-crushing realization that their "forever" had crumbled into dust; the final, devastating blow of the divorce, leaving her shattered and lost.

"I can't even remember why Castiel and Katherine even got divorced in the first place," one of the comments on the blog read. "They've been together since they were teenagers. Funny how love ends."

Katherine's hand tightened around the wine glass, her knuckles turning white. She didn't need to remember. The wounds were still fresh, the pain still raw.

"I wonder how Katherine Donovan feels about this," another comment chimed in. "If it were me... I'd be mad as fuck."

Mad as fuck, indeed. The words resonated in her soul, igniting a spark of anger that quickly spread into a raging inferno.

Katherine Donovan was mad as hell. And she wasn't going to let them get away with it.

She had been discarded, cast aside like a worn-out dress, replaced with a seemingly identical copy. But Katherine wasn't just a dress, surely she was worth more than that.

With a guttural growl, Katherine flung her phone across the bed. The screen flickered to life, displaying a distorted image of Caroline's smiling face, a picture-perfect image of a woman about to embark on her fairytale wedding.

A wave of nausea swept over Katherine, the bile rising in her throat. But she swallowed it down, replacing the feeling with a burning determination.

She wouldn't be a victim anymore; she wouldn't be the one left behind, forgotten. She would have her revenge. She would make them pay for their betrayal, for the pain they had inflicted on her.

The television blared once more, a burst of laughter from the six friends, but the laughter didn't reach her, couldn't penetrate the fortress of anger and hurt that had been erected around her heart.

The sound of the front door opening and closing snapped her out of her reverie. Footsteps echoed through the hallway, followed by a bubbly voice singing out, "Honey, I'm home!"

"In here!" Katherine called out, her voice flat and emotionless.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Hailey stepped in, her face alight with an infectious energy that Katherine couldn't relate to.

Hailey's energy felt jarring, intrusive. It reminded Katherine of the life she had lost, the happiness she had been denied.

Hailey didn't enter the room with grocery bags, as she usually did, but with multiple pink and white boutique bags. The sheer volume of them was enough to send a shiver down Katherine's spine.

"Look what I've got!" Hailey exclaimed, her voice bubbling over with excitement, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Katherine couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt, a sliver of appreciation for Hailey's unwavering support. She didn't deserve this, not after the life she had chosen to lead.

"You're going to get us bankrupt at this rate, Hailey." Katherine sighed, her voice tinged with sarcasm. "I thought you said you were going grocery shopping."

Hailey's smile widened, her eyes twinkling. "Come on, it's for the plan! Operation: Ruin The Wedding, you know?"

"Sure," Katherine mumbled, a flicker of defiance in her voice. She sat up, the movement causing a ripple in the satin bedspread, the delicate fabric rustling like a whisper of a forgotten dream.

"I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow, Kat," Hailey assured her, her voice laced with an underlying sense of urgency. "But first..."

Hailey reached into one of the bags, pulling out a gorgeous black dress, the fabric cascading like a waterfall of silk. "Ta-da!"

Katherine gasped, her breath catching in her throat. The dress, sleek and sophisticated, with its intricate embroidery and daring cut, was breathtaking.

"Oh my god!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with a mixture of surprise and awe. "Is that–"

"A Niorvanti gown? Yes." Hailey interrupted, her voice a mixture of excitement and pride. "Is it one of your own designs? Also yes!"

Katherine stared at the dress, a wave of emotion washing over her. It was a design she had created years ago, a vision she had held dear, a part of her soul that she had poured onto the page. And now, here it was, a tangible manifestation of her creative dreams.

For the past few years, after the divorce, after the pain, after the heartbreak, Katherine had retreated into her sketchbook, her pencil tracing lines of inspiration, her imagination filling the pages with dreams and aspirations. She had sold her designs to a prestigious French company, Niorvanti, the sale providing a lifeline, a financial cushion that had allowed her to rebuild her life, to find solace in her art.

But she had never seen her designs come to life. Never witnessed them being worn by real people.

And now, here it was, one of her creations, a symbol of her talent, her resilience, her ability to rise from the ashes.

"This is beautiful." Katherine whispered, her voice thick with emotion. She reached out, her fingers tracing the delicate embroidery, the soft fabric, feeling the echo of her own creative spirit. "Thank you, Hailey. You're the best, really."

"Of course I am," Hailey replied, her smile radiating with warmth and genuine affection. But beneath the surface, Katherine could sense a current of concern, a worry she couldn't quite place.

Hailey had always been a source of strength for her, a constant reminder of the good in the world. But lately, Katherine sensed a change in her, a shift in her demeanor, a subtle shift from her usual carefree attitude to something more guarded, more cautious.

"Now come on," Hailey continued, her voice regaining its usual bubbly energy, "I've bought outfits for every occasion I could think of. You've got to test them out."

She began to empty the bags, revealing a dazzling array of dresses, skirts, tops, shoes, and accessories, each one more extravagant than the last.

"The public eye is on you now," Hailey explained, her voice taking on a more serious tone. "And you've got to look absolutely stunning at every step of the way as you get your revenge."

Katherine looked at the clothes, the shimmering fabrics, the intricate details, and a flicker of fear, a wave of self-doubt, washed over her.

She would use everything at her disposal, every ounce of her strength, every shred of her wit, to ensure that their wedding wouldn't be a celebration of love; it would be a monument to her revenge.

"Let's do this." Katherine said.