Ms. Antony, our wedding planner, noticed Milla too. During cocktail hour, I watched her approach Milla quietly by the bar. The conversation was brief, and Milla walked away looking stunned. Moments later, she broke down, sobbing dramatically into our father’s shoulder. She claimed the staff was harassing her and insisted she deserved respect as my sister.
The reception hall instantly turned tense. Guests whispered, eyes darting back and forth. I confronted Ms. Antony privately.
Ms. Antony remained calm. “You’ll thank me later. I stopped her from doing something much worse.”
The Hidden Threat
“What could she possibly have been doing?” I asked, confused.
“She was preparing a surprise toast,” Ms. Antony explained. “Handwritten, rehearsed quietly in the powder room mirror. The speech was meant to embarrass you, mention your past, and—well—highlight her own importance.”
I felt my stomach sink. This was more than a dress; it was sabotage.
The Confrontation
When the first moments of chaos passed, I forced myself to enjoy the celebration. I smiled for photos, laughed with our guests, and tried to ignore Milla clinging to attention. But as Owen and I cut the cake, another surprise awaited.
Ms. Antony whispered urgently to the DJ, and the music abruptly stopped. We were led into the kitchen, where we found Milla standing over a tray of desserts, pouring clear liquid and red wine over them. She looked pleased with herself.
“What is she doing?” I asked, aghast.
“She wanted to ‘liven things up,’” the server said quietly.
The Heart of the Issue
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