Stolen Fate: The Heiress Strikes Back

The night before our wedding. I rushed back to the hotel suite for the rings. A highpitched moan bled through the door. Brianna.I shoved the door open.

Bryce and my stepsister tangled in the white sheets. Halfnaked.I dug my nails into my palms. Bryce didn't flinch.

He stared at my face, threw his head back, and laughed."Baby, relax," he smirked, unfazed. "This just counts as a little prewedding test."I scoffed. "I see right through this gaslighting.

I don't take tests. From anyone." Chapter 1 My hand hadn't even touched the doorknob when the sounds hit me.

Wet, breathy moans slipped through the crack of the door, sickeningly loud in the quiet hallway. I froze.

Brianna’s unmistakable voice drifted into the hallway. "Bryce… maybe we should stop tonight.

You’re getting married tomorrow." "I’ll just fake it tomorrow." Bryce’s voice was a low, cruel drawl. "If Quinn wasn't still useful to me, I would’ve dumped her ages ago." Brianna was two years younger than me.

My mom, Cynthia, had gotten pregnant with her the exact same year she married my stepdad, Dale.

For some twisted reason, Dale had insisted on giving Brianna a name that meant the exact same thing as mine, a cheap copy from day one.

All I knew was that the second Brianna took her first breath, my mother stopped loving me. Cynthia’s entire universe shrank down to her new daughter.

When Brianna was born, she was so scrawny and darkskinned that even the head nurse cringed. But somehow, as she grew older, she blossomed into a beautiful girl.

As she blossomed, I rotted—going from a brighteyed, pretty kid to a bloated mess. Dark spots started forming on my face. My weight spiraled out of control.

I practically begged Cynthia to take me to a dermatologist. She just rolled her eyes. "Girls change as they grow.

It’s only natural you’re getting uglier." Then she scooped Brianna into her arms, pressing kisses all over her face. "My beautiful girl.

You’re going to be a heartbreaker when you grow up." My chest tightened. I just dropped my head, letting the hot tears slide down my ruined cheeks.

High school was an even crueler joke. I used to be top of my class. I tested into our competitive magnet school with the highest score in the district.

Then, sophomore year, my grades tanked. I hit the absolute bottom of the rankings and never clawed my way back up. Brianna had always hated studying.

But right around the time I started failing, it was like a switch flipped in her brain. Her test scores skyrocketed.

Cynthia would wave Brianna’s straightA report cards in my face, her voice loud and bragging. I would dig my fingernails into my palms until the skin nearly split.

I kept telling myself it wasn't that my mom didn't love me. I just needed to try harder. If I bled over my textbooks, maybe she’d spare a scrap of that affection for me.

It didn't matter. Despite the sleepless nights, I barely scraped a passing SAT score. I ended up at a noname community college.

Two years later, Brianna graduated as the state valedictorian. And in the ultimate, baffling power move?

She rejected her acceptance letters from Harvard and Yale—just to enroll in my trashtier college. Chapter 2 I couldn't figure it out. Then, Bryce crashed into my life.

He didn't care about my bloated figure or my ruined skin. He pursued me relentlessly. For eighteen years, I had been completely invisible. This sudden spotlight?

It shattered all my defenses. I said yes. We were officially together. But Brianna constantly hovered. She crashed our dates. Tagged along to dinner.

Before long, they were practically best friends. I had no idea when the line actually blurred. When they started sneaking around behind my back.

I caught them hanging out without me once. Bryce didn't even bother to scramble for a real excuse.

He rolled his eyes, asking why I was making such a massive deal out of nothing, and why I was being so toxic and jealous of my own sister. "Be a good girl," he'd warn, his voice dropping into a sharp, controlling edge. "Don't push it.

I don't want to dump you." The subtext slammed into me. I was painfully average. I should be grateful that someone could love me. So, I swallowed the humiliation. I obeyed.

Being pampered and throwing cute tantrums like a normal girlfriend was a luxury I didn't dare to dream of.

Armed with a useless degree, I ended up trapped in a deadend corporate grind, counting pennies just to keep the lights on and my fridge stocked.

Cynthia had always looked at me like a massive disappointment. But the day I brought Bryce home? A greedy, calculating gleam ignited in her eyes.

She stared at him with this sickeningly sweet smile and immediately pushed us to get married. I exhaled a breath I’d been holding for two decades.

Despite my miserable twentysomething years of existence, I was finally marrying the man of my dreams. I was ready to walk down the aisle and spend the rest of my life with him.

It was enough. Tonight took a sledgehammer to that pathetic little fantasy. When did it start? The memory of Cynthia’s beaming smile at Bryce flashed behind my eyelids.

Did she know? Did my own mother set me up? I don't even remember stumbling out of the hotel hallway. A complete coward. Twentysomething years of shrinking myself down into nothing.

Even with my fiancé screwing my sister one wall away, my first instinct was to run. I couldn't even kick the door off its hinges and scream.

Years of emotional abuse had beaten me into this compliant, hollow shell. But not this. Betrayal was a hard line. A physical vow cemented right behind my ribs.

I was going to burn them both to the ground. I stared at the dark ceiling until the sun bled through the blinds. At exactly 8:00 AM, my phone vibrated. Bryce. "Baby, you ready?

Coming to the hotel to pick you up." I glared at the screen. I could perfectly picture his crafted, affectionate smile.

Over the years, Bryce had always played the perfect, devoted boyfriend in front of me. Why? There was a much deeper, twisted game being played here. I needed the absolute truth.

But I couldn't tip my hand. Let them think they were still pulling the strings. The wedding was dead. I wasn't marrying a cheating sociopath.

Especially not one obsessed with my stepsister. I typed out a rapid text. "Might be running a little late." A second later, the screen flashed. An incoming call from him.

Chapter 3 I choked down the nausea and accepted the call. "Baby, did you not sleep well last night? It's fine. We basically ran the rehearsal perfectly.

Just come straight here." Bryce's voice sounded crisp and refreshed. Clearly, he'd had an amazing night. Remembering the sickening sounds from last night, I clenched my fists.

I swallowed hard, forcing my tone to sound smooth. "Don't be nervous. I'll be right beside you." Through the speaker, I could hear another set of faint, rhythmic breaths.

I didn't need to guess whose they were. I hung up, collapsed back onto the hotel bed, and slept in.

The sun was burning high in the sky by the time I finally crawled out and hailed an Uber to the venue. When I finally dragged myself in, the place was packed.

Brianna wasn't the bride, and she sure as hell wasn't a bridesmaid. But there she was.

She stood draped in a sheer, white gown, her face contoured flawlessly, chatting animatedly with Bryce. Cynthia was standing right beside her, practically glowing.

The second Cynthia spotted me, her smile vanished.

She stomped over and dug her manicured nails deep into my bicep. "You stupid girl," she scolded, clearly unhappy. "Do you have any idea what day it is? Why are you so late?

And why weren't you answering your phone?" I stared at her face. Time had barely touched her features. People used to tell us we were identical. Two perfect, porcelain dolls.

Brianna, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of Dale. Rough, darkskinned, and flatfaced. So how, in just a few short years, had Brianna completely rewritten her DNA?

I scrutinized my stepsister’s flawless profile—a terrifyingly perfect carbon copy of Cynthia's—and a sickening realization took root in my gut. The rot was coming from them.

And I was going to dig it up. "Stop staring like an idiot. Go get your makeup done." Cynthia shoved me toward the bridal suite, looking suddenly uncomfortable under my scrutiny.

I sat numbly at the vanity mirror, my brain a scrambled mess of tactics. How was I going to blow this wedding up without letting them know I saw them last night?

I didn't even have to lift a finger. Brianna practically giftwrapped the perfect opening and dropped it in my lap.

The sharp hiss of an argument leaked through the cracked suite door. "Bryce and I love each other! Why should she get him?

Can't we figure out another way?" Brianna’s voice was pure, venomous entitlement. "You've survived twenty years, you can survive a few more days." Cynthia’s tone was cold, calculated steel. "Don't ruin the endgame because you can't control yourself.

We are inches from the finish line. Once this is done, you can run off and screw him wherever you want, I won't care." Endgame? What endgame?

I slipped out of the chair, my bare feet silent on the carpet, and crept right behind them. "Mom?

What are you guys talking about?" Cynthia spun around, the color dropping from her face like a stone. "Quinn… why are you out here?

We were just… chatting." She hadn't used my actual name in years. To her, I wasn't even worthy of sharing a syllable with her golden child. What had I done? I was here first.

I was the one who spent years begging for crumbs of her attention. Why was her entire universe tethered to Brianna? Just because Brianna was the product of her first love?

Chapter 4 Cynthia had divorced my dad years ago. She didn't just leave; she brutally discarded him when he needed her most. He had tanked his business and drowned in debt, sure.

But Dale played the real catalyst. Dale represented her ultimate obsession. The one that got away. The second Dale finalized his own divorce, Cynthia hunted him down.

She sank her toxic claws back into his life, wearing him down until he finally surrendered. She abandoned my dad but fought a vicious legal battle for my custody.

I foolishly believed she actually loved me. I thought she couldn't bear to let her daughter go. The horrifying reality finally snapped into place.

They say love and hate are two sides of the same coin. She despised my father with every fiber of her being.

So she tethered me to her side, turning my childhood into a living punching bag to punish him. "Enough, Mom." Brianna tilted her chin, glaring down her nose at me. "You tolerate this, but I refuse.

In any relationship, the unloved one is the real homewrecker. Bryce and I actually love each other. You should have bowed out months ago." Cynthia clamped her mouth shut.

Color drained from her cheeks, leaving a sickly pale. Bryce never loved me. He never even tried. Footsteps hammered down the hallway. Bryce skidded into the room.

His eyes darted between our faces. Panic flashed across his features. "Quinn, listen to me." Bryce lunged forward, grabbing my shoulders. "I fully intend to marry you.

Just trust me. I—" I slapped his hands away. "Marry me? While you screw my sister?" Shock widened his eyes. He recoiled. "You know?

Since when?" He whipped around, jabbing a finger at Brianna. "Did you tell her?!" "Secrets always come out, Bryce," I said coldly. "I've had enough of your sick games.

The wedding is off. We're done." Brianna laughed out loud. She stepped right up to Bryce and looped her arms around his neck. "Relax, babe.

Drop the act." Brianna pressed her lips hard against his cheek right in front of my face. "Watching you pretend drains my energy." Cynthia simply watched.

Not a single word left her mouth. But for one fractured second, a flash of pure, unfiltered pity flickered in her eyes. The wedding imploded.

The suffocating chains binding me to this toxic family finally snapped. A massive, suffocating weight lifted off my spine. For the first time in my life, I felt truly relaxed.

No more begging for scraps of affection. No more walking on eggshells, terrified of triggering their disgust. I claimed my freedom. To hell with romance, and to hell with family.

I shoved my clothes into a duffel bag, ready to rip myself out of this city forever. My phone buzzed against the nightstand. An unknown number.

A text popped up: Do you want the truth? My pulse kicked against my throat. The screen lit up again before I could even process the words.

Aren't you curious why you and your sister swapped lives overnight? The question paralyzed me. My brain dragged up the memories. I started out brilliant. Beautiful. Loved.

Brianna struggled with absolutely everything. Then, an invisible switch flipped. My body expanded. My grades crashed. My skin ruined itself.

Meanwhile, Brianna hijacked my perfect trajectory