My Sister Stole My Wedding and My Life

As soon as I arrived at the airport, I headed straight for the private VIP lounge of my younger sister, Noelle Lynch.

I threw the door open. The two people, tangled together on the couch and locked in a passionate kiss, were so startled they rolled right off onto the floor.

The furious snarl from my fiance, Jeremy Morgan, was cut off the instant his eyes met my restrained gaze.

"Nico? What are you doing here?" he asked, his fingers scrambling to refasten the buttons that had just come undone.

Beside him, Noelle made no move to cover her bare torso. She only looked up at me, the picture of wounded innocence. "Nico—"

"Don't call me that!"

It took everything I had not to charge over and slap her across the face. "Noelle Lynch, screwing around with your own sister's fiance. How low can you get?"

But the moment the words were out, Jeremy—who had looked guilty only seconds before—went cold.

"Nicolette Lynch, there's no need to make it sound so ugly."

He bent down, gathered the clothes Noelle had dropped on the floor, and carefully helped her back into them.

Then, in a voice dripping with tenderness, he whispered in her ear, "Be good and wait for me here. You're a public figure. We can't let this turn into a scene."

"But what about Nico—"

"Don't worry. I'm here. I'll take care of it."

He half-dragged, half-shoved me out of the lounge. The second we reached an empty corner, he dropped my wrist, as if touching me for another second made his skin crawl.

Yet not long ago, this same man had held me and said he wanted to be with me every single moment.

If it weren't for the scar on the back of his hand—the one he'd gotten saving me, exactly as I remembered—I might have believed the man in front of me was an impostor wearing his face.

My voice came out hoarse. "How long?"

Jeremy pulled out a cigarette, but after spotting the no-smoking sign on the wall, he slipped it back into the pack. Only then did he speak, his voice flat.

"Does that really matter now?"

That single question shattered whatever composure I had been forcing myself to keep.

I didn't understand. He was the one who had betrayed me, so why was I the one standing here, trembling with fear?