My Younger Sister Stole My Fiancé – But I Got the Ultimate Revenge at Her Wedding

When Paige’s sister takes her fiancé, betrayal isn’t enough—she wants to rub it in her face. A year later, an invitation arrives. Erica is marrying the man she stole, and she wants Paige to witness it. But what Erica doesn’t realize is that Paige has a plan. By the end of the night, the bride’s perfect day will be shattered.

I wasn’t supposed to be at this wedding.

That much was obvious from the sideways looks and hushed whispers that followed me as I moved through the grand hall.

I’ll admit, the wedding setup was breathtaking. Erica had gone all out, decorating the venue in gold and ivory. The guests were dressed to the nines in expensive gowns and tailored tuxedos. Everything looked… flawless.

But no amount of elegance could hide the ugliness underneath.

This wasn’t just any wedding. This was *her* wedding.

Erica.

My younger sister. My parents’ favorite. The one who always got everything handed to her while I had to fight for every little thing I achieved.

And now?

She had taken the one thing that was supposed to be mine.

Stan.

Stan had been my fiancé. He was supposed to be my future. The man I loved and trusted—until I came home early from work one night and found them together in *our* bed.

I still remember how he froze, his face filled with guilt. As for my sister? She just smirked, her voice dripping with satisfaction.

“I won, Paige,” she said simply. “Checkmate.”

A month later, the wedding I had spent over a year planning was canceled, and I lost most of my deposits to the vendors. Meanwhile, Erica and Stan no longer had to hide. They were officially a couple.

After that, I left town for a few weeks, moving between hotels while working remotely. I tried to put it all behind me, and eventually, I did. When I was ready, I moved back home and adopted a kitten.

Then, the invitation arrived.

And now, a year after the betrayal, here I was, standing in the middle of their celebration, invited as nothing more than a spectator to their so-called victory.

I’m sure it was my parents who pressured her to invite me. If Erica had her way, she never would have sent that invitation. Or maybe she would have—just to gloat. She was that kind of person.

But what Erica didn’t know, what no one knew, was that tonight, I wasn’t here to mourn my loss.

I was here to make sure Erica would never forget what she had done to me. And with that, she would never forget the surprise I had planned for her wedding reception.

The ceremony was a blur. I stood near the back, barely listening as the officiant talked about love and commitment. Honestly, it was all just empty words.

Stan, dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, gazed at Erica with a look of adoration I knew was fake. She, in turn, beamed up at him like she had won the ultimate prize.

I almost laughed.

*Enjoy it while you can, sweetheart,* I thought, sipping my champagne.

By the time the reception began, the hall was alive with laughter and clinking glasses. A large screen behind the dance floor displayed a slideshow of their engagement photos—Stan lifting Erica into the air, their foreheads touching as they smiled at each other.

If you didn’t know the history, you might have thought they were genuinely happy.

And maybe they were. Maybe this was how things were meant to be.

But I wasn’t going to let it go that easily. I wasn’t going to just walk away.

Why should Erica get her happily-ever-after, especially after all the pain and betrayal she had caused me?

No. Not a chance.

Soon, their perfect little fairytale was about to take a turn.

I moved through the crowd unnoticed, my sleek black dress fitting perfectly. I wasn’t dressed like a guest. I was dressed like a reckoning, and I felt more confident than I had in a long time.

When I reached the laptop connected to the projector, I inserted my flash drive. A few clicks, a deep breath, and then…

Showtime.

At first, no one noticed. The guests continued sipping champagne and nibbling on appetizers, lost in conversation. The bridal couple made their way through the crowd, stopping to chat and hug people as they went.

Then, Stan’s voice filled the hall.

“Please, don’t leave me!”

The video played on the massive screen, the footage grainy from the security camera in my bedroom. Stan was on the bed, his face streaked with tears. I stood on the other side, listening to him try to “explain” what had happened between him and my sister.

“Erica means nothing to me, Paige! Absolutely nothing!” he sobbed. “She was a mistake! I love you, Paige! I made a huge mistake!”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

I turned to look at Erica.

Her face went pale.

Stan, too, stood frozen, his eyes wide. His hands twitched at his sides.

But I wasn’t done yet.

The video cut to more security footage. I lived in a quiet neighborhood that was often targeted for break-ins, which was why I had security cameras installed everywhere—including every room in the house.

Now, the footage showed Erica and Stan sneaking into my house together, slipping into my bedroom when they thought I was working late. Timestamp after timestamp, betrayal after betrayal.

Then, the final blow.

Erica, lying in my bed, laughing.

“She’ll never know…” she whispered, her voice light and breathy.

“Paige who?” Stan said, laughing with her.

A collective gasp spread through the crowd. Someone dropped a champagne glass.

“Oh my God,” a woman murmured.

My mother looked like she might faint. My father’s jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack.

And then, chaos.

Erica stumbled back, her hands shaking.

“This… this isn’t real!” she stammered.

But the proof was right there, glaring on the screen.

“Dinner will be served now!” she blurted, waving her hands. “Everyone, just take your seats and enjoy!”

Stan turned to her, his expression turning to rage.

“Erica, you told me you deleted the footage from Paige’s computer.”

“Oh?” I said, my voice dripping with mock innocence. “You knew about it? You knew the security cameras would catch you?”

His face paled, giving himself away.

The guests murmured louder now, their faces filled with judgment and disgust.

And then, before Erica could respond, a voice cut through the tension.

“Paige.”

I turned.

Jack stepped forward from the crowd, his crisp white shirt visible under the black vest of his waiter’s uniform.

Months ago, when I told Jack about my plan, he insisted on being there with me. He had come over after work and saw Erica’s wedding invitation on the table.

“I want to go to the wedding,” I said. “I just don’t want to be… I don’t know. Jack, Erica is a problem. She’s used to everything being about her. I want to teach her a lesson.”

Jack moved around the kitchen, chopping vegetables as I spoke.

“Then I’ll come with you, Paige,” he said.

“But I don’t want to draw attention to you,” I said, handing him a bowl of ramen. “I don’t want Erica to ruin my moment before I even get to it. And if she sees you, that’s exactly what she’ll do.”

“Then I’ll come as a waiter, if that’s what it takes!” he said. “But I want to be there. That way, if you need me, I’ll be right there.”

In the end, I gave in. I had distanced myself from my parents and hadn’t been close with my family for years, so having Jack around made me feel better.

Now, Jack set down his tray of champagne glasses on a table and smiled at me.

His sharp blue eyes met mine. They were steady and unwavering… and reassuring.

I had never been more grateful to see someone in my life. As much as I was surrounded by family, having Jack there was the one thing that kept me grounded throughout the ceremony. I despised Erica and Stan, but watching them actually get married did tug at my heart.

But now? Seeing Jack?

I felt comforted.

“Shall we go?” I asked.

Jack shook his head and walked over to me.

Gasps rippled through the crowd as he strode toward me, each step deliberate and confident. And then, without hesitation, he dropped to one knee.

The room, already reeling from the scandal on screen, fell into stunned silence.

Jack reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. He opened it, revealing a stunning ring.

“I’ve waited long enough to ask you this, my love,” he said, his voice strong and clear. “Paige, will you marry me?”

A sharp inhale swept through the crowd.

Erica let out a strangled sound.

“Are you… are you kidding me right now?” she screeched. “Paige! Why? What the hell? Now? At my wedding?!”

She looked like a deer in headlights, but also like a bomb about to explode. For a moment, I felt a pang of guilt. But overall… I felt vindicated.

I smiled, the weight of the past year lifting from my shoulders.

She had stolen the wrong man. Stan was nothing compared to Jack. Jack was everything Stan wasn’t. He was trustworthy, steady, and certain about his love for me.

Stan? Stan had just wanted a good time.

But as I looked at him now, he looked heartbroken. He looked like everything had gone wrong for him, and the weight of it all was crushing him. He reached out to hold Erica’s hand, but she yanked it away with such force that he looked stunned.

I would have felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t my problem anymore.

Instead, I turned back to Jack, my chest tight with emotion.

“Yes!” I said, my voice steady. “Yes, Jack! I will!”

The room erupted. Some guests, still reeling from the scandal, now cheered. My mother wiped away tears, not of shame this time, but of joy.

Erica’s face twisted in pure rage. I had never seen her so upset. Erica was used to getting everything she wanted, but now, on the most important day of her life, she had lost control. There was no joy in her actions. No victory over me.

There was just… anger and hurt. And disappointment. I should have felt bad, right?

But I couldn’t. I just couldn’t.

“This is my day!” she shrieked, stamping her foot and knocking over her chair.

I turned to her, tilting my head.

“Oh, honey,” I said, my voice sweet. “You stole that fool from me and my wedding. I just returned the favor and stole the show.”

Then, with Jack’s hand firmly in mine, I walked out of the hall, leaving my sister standing at her wedding reception, humiliated, betrayed, and hurt.

The wedding was far behind us, but my heart was still racing. The echoes of gasps, whispers, and Erica’s shriek still lingered in my mind.

Now, though, it was just Jack and me.

We sat across from each other in a tiny 24-hour diner, both of us absurdly overdressed for a place that served greasy fries and milkshakes in chipped glasses. My sleek black dress felt out of place against the cracked leather booth, and Jack looked like he had just stepped out of a movie scene.

And yet, this was the most comfortable I’d felt all night.

Jack slid a plate of fries toward me.

“Eat,” he said. “You’ve had a long day.”

“That’s an understatement,” I laughed, but I picked up a fry anyway.

For a while, we just sat there, the hum of the diner filling the silence. It wasn’t awkward—it was easy. That’s how it had always been with Jack.

Finally, I set my drink down and met his gaze.

“So… how long were you planning that?”

“The proposal?” he smirked.

He exhaled, leaning back against the booth.

“I’ve wanted to ask you for months, Paige. But I knew you weren’t ready. Not just for marriage, but for the whole commitment thing. You needed time to heal. I wasn’t going to rush that.”

His fingers traced patterns on the table, and then he picked up his milkshake.

“But when I found out she invited you? That was the final straw. I wasn’t going to let you stand there alone while she flaunted him in front of you.”

“And you got a job in catering, or you snuck in?”

“I called in a favor, honey,” he grinned. “Apparently, I look good holding a tray.”

I laughed, really laughed, for the first time in a long time.

Jack leaned forward, his expression softer now.

“I meant every word, Paige. I love you. And I’ll wait as long as you need. But tonight felt like the right moment to finally ask.”

“I think,” I said after a moment, “that you chose the perfect moment.”

And for the first time in a long time, I felt like I had won.