You Weren't Invited to My Wedding Ex novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

“Your father arranged a marriage for you years ago. Now that your health’s stabilized… will you go through with it?”

I didn’t hesitate.

“Yes,” I said, my voice flat. “Tell Father to prepare the paperwork. And make sure the wedding isn’t tacky. I’m not here for romance. I’m here to win.”

My mother didn’t flinch at my tone. She agreed, offered a few suggestions, and I gave her a list of my own before hanging up.

It was supposed to be Lavenia’s birthday. One weekend on Jacob’s yacht. Glitter, champagne, fake smiles.

Instead, I watched her kiss my boyfriend. Jacob.

Upper deck. Frosting on her cheek. His hands on her waist. His brother, Luther–who used to be like a big brother to me–handing her a towel like this wasn’t betrayal in HD.

Lavenia. My best friend. My ride–or–die since age nine. She used to braid my hair and swear she’d never touch what was mine. Now she’s licking cake off Jacob’s fingers like it’s foreplay.

And Jacob? The man who bled for me. Who once called me his future. He didn’t even flinch when I walked past.

Didn’t blink.

I didn’t cry. Didn’t scream.

I just came downstairs. Sea air thick in my lungs. Heart dead quiet. Sat on the velvet lounge sofa tucked into the yacht’s lower deck suite and called my mother.

Because if I want revenge, I need power.

And power doesn’t come from tears.

A few minutes later, I heard designer heels tapping on the staircase. Then a knock on my cabin door.

“Pearl?” a sugary voice chimed.

I didn’t answer. She pushed the door open anyway.

Lavenia waltzed in like she owned the yacht, carrying a Black Forest cake with one candle stuck dead center. Her makeup was flawless–glossy lips, fluttery lashes–but there were a few smudges of whipped cream on her cheek. Deliberate. Always.

“Pearl, will you come upstairs? Everyone’s asking about you.”

Her tone was sweet, eyes wide like some Disney deer. But I’d seen her fangs too many times.

“No,” I said flatly, not even turning around. “I have work.”

A flicker of something crossed her face. Disappointment? No. Calculation.

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“You don’t like me,” she said softly. “That’s why you’re always avoiding me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Are we doing this again?”

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She blinked rapidly, like she was about to cry on cue. And maybe she was. I’d seen her pull this routine on Jacob a thousand times.

“I’m not in the mood, Lavenia. Save the performance for your fan club.”

I moved toward the door.

She stepped back–then suddenly stumbled, gasping as the cake flew from her hands and smashed across her chest, rich chocolate and whipped cream splattering like a crime

scene.

Right on cue, Jacob and Luther appeared at the top of the staircase like trained guard dogs. They rushed toward her, shoving past me like I didn’t exist.

“Lavi! Oh my god–what happened?” Jacob’s voice was tight, eyes locked on her frosting–smeared dress.

“She shoved me,” Lavenia whimpered, clutching the ruined cake like it was a mortal wound. “I was just trying to bring her something sweet. For old times. She–she pushed it into me.”

I stared at her, stunned. “What?”

“She what?” Luther’s eyes blazed. “Pearl, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I didn’t touch her,” I snapped. “She dropped it herself. You all saw nothing but you’re ready to believe this?”

Jacob didn’t even glance my way. He was too busy dabbing frosting off Lavenia’s shoulder like it was acid.

“Lavi, does it hurt?” he murmured.

She sniffled and leaned into his chest. “Just a little. It’s okay… I shouldn’t have bothered

her. She hates me now.”

“You were her best friend,” Luther said, glaring at me. “You were like sisters. She always called you her only real friend. And this is how you treat her? Because you’re jealous?”

Jealous.

I laughed–quiet, bitter. “You two belong in a soap opera. All that’s missing is a coma and a fake baby.”

Jacob turned, jaw clenched. “You’re going to apologize.”

I blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” he said, voice low and furious. “Apologize to Lavenia. Now.”

I stared him down, arms crossed. “No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then forget about the wedding we planned. You don’t apologize by tomorrow, I’m not proposing to you next month. Consider it off the table.”

Silence snapped tight between us.

Luther scoffed behind him. “You still wanna marry her, bro? Her true colors are showing

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now. What a waste. If I were you, I’d never marry a woman like her.”