After My Fiance Chose My Stepsister, I Married His Uncle

I smiled faintly and handed over the bracelet without hesitation.

“All right, let Amanda have it. It suits her more.”

My stepmother’s voice dripped with feigned concern as she chimed in, “This doesn’t seem appropriate. That bracelet was William’s birthday gift to Avery. How could Amanda possibly take it?”

Amanda, clinging sweetly to my father’s arm, cast a sly glance my way and replied, “Yes, Dad, Sister might feel hurt. I’d better not accept it.”

Her words were sugar-coated, but the triumphant glint in her eyes betrayed her true intentions.

I placed the bracelet into Amanda’s outstretched hand with a serene expression.

“Take it,” I said coolly. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Thank you, Sister!” Amanda exclaimed with exaggerated delight, her tone sickly sweet.

My father gave me an approving nod, seemingly pleased with what he believed was my gracious nature before he and my stepmother walked out of the room.

Once they were gone, Amanda turned to William with a coy smile, holding out the bracelet.

“William, won’t you help me put it on?” she asked, her tone laced with charm.

“Of course,” William replied as if forgetting I was still in the room. He took the bracelet with his long, graceful fingers and carefully fastened it around her wrist, his full attention on her.

The scene played out like something from a romantic film, a stark contrast to the reality of my place in this charade.

It reminded me all too vividly of the photos Amanda had sent me the night before, images meant to sting. In a candlelit Western restaurant beneath a canopy of glittering stars, she had leaned against William with an intimacy that left no doubt about their bond.

The picture had been perfect, too perfect, and it now replayed in my mind like a bitter memory.

In all the years I had spent with William, we had never taken a photo like that, one that radiated effortless intimacy.

The irony of it twisted in my chest, almost laughable in its cruelty.

After fastening the bracelet on her wrist, Amanda sauntered over to me, her smile dripping with insincerity.

“Sister, thank you for the bracelet. William and I will stay to celebrate your birthday with you,” she chirped sweetly.

“There’s no need,” I replied coolly, brushing past her.

A flicker of malice glinted in her eyes before she suddenly stumbled into me, clutching my arm and pulling me down with her.

The crash echoed through the room as the tea set and cake shattered against the floor. Amanda let out a wail, clutching her arm, where a faint scratch marked her porcelain skin.

“Sister, why did you push me? My hand hurts so much!” she cried, her voice trembling with well-practiced anguish.

William froze for a moment, his eyes darting between us before bypassing me entirely. He swept Amanda into his arms as though she were the victim of some grave injustice.

“Amanda, are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft with concern.

“William, my hand hurts so badly!” she sobbed, holding up her arm to showcase the tiny scratch. Her tears streamed down her cheeks, painting a pitiful picture that seemed to stab at William’s heart.

His gaze snapped to me, cold and cutting, his tone sharper than I had ever heard.

“Avery, how could you? You’ve gone too far this time. Hurting your sister? Unforgivable.”

Without sparing me a second glance, he carried Amanda toward the door, leaving me amidst the shattered remnants of what had once been my birthday celebration.

My father and stepmother, drawn by the commotion, stormed into the room with anger etched on their faces.

Their scornful gazes bore into me before they hurried after Amanda, their concern pouring over her like a protective shield.

The living room, once filled with chaos, descended into a suffocating silence.

I wiped the blood trickling down my forehead, a bitter chuckle rising in my throat.

This was the man I had cherished through the years, someone I thought I knew inside and out.

Yet it only took one Amanda to tip his heart away.

And my father? The man who had once showered me with love and pride?

They say a stepmother often turns a father into a stranger, and I was living proof of this truth.

“Hold still; this might sting a bit.”

My best friend prepared to stitch the gash on my forehead, her hands steady but her voice tinged with worry.

The needle broke through my skin, a sharp sting that made me clench my fists.

But I gritted my teeth and bore it.

After all, what was this pain compared to the storm raging in my chest?

She sighed, her tone edged with frustration.

“Since you’ve already agreed to Mr. Spencer’s proposal, why not leave now? Why stay and endure these miserable people until the 9th?”

I replied, my voice laden with bitterness.

“Because next week marks my mother’s death anniversary.”

I need to use this last month to tie up loose ends and leave with a clear conscience.

Most importantly, the 9th of next month was meant to mark my engagement to William. But I had a special surprise planned for him, one he would never forget.

After my best friend left, the throbbing in my head grew unbearable, pulling me into the clutches of a restless sleep.

When I finally opened my eyes, the world outside had plunged into darkness.

Faintly, Amanda's sobs drifted from downstairs, breaking the quiet of the night.