The grand hall in the Alverez estate is so quiet I swear my heels are yelling as they click on the marble floor. Dawn light pours through the stained-glass windows, splashing reds and golds everywhere, like the room's trying to cheer me up. I'm standing in front of this huge mirror, my wedding gown dragging behind me like it's got a mind of its own, whispering promises I'm not sure I can keep. My fingers shake as I fuss with the veil, and I have to remind myself to breathe, like it's not second nature anymore.
"I, Sienna Alverez, take you…" My voice is barely a squeak, like I'm scared the walls are eavesdropping. I clear my throat, try again, louder, like I'm convincing myself. "I, Sienna Alverez, take you, Ethan, to be my husband…" The words choke me, sticking in my throat. A tear sneaks down my cheek, warm and annoying. I swipe it away, but another one's right behind it. Mama's face pops into my head, her soft smile, the way she'd tuck my hair back and call me her little star. She'd be here today, holding my hand, if that damn car accident hadn't stolen her from us.
I shake my head, hard, like I can toss the sadness out. Today's not for crying. It's for proving I've got what it takes, for Ethan, for Father, for the whole Alverez legacy. I mutter the vows one more time, voice steadier, and spin away from the mirror. The hall's too big, too empty, like it's swallowing me whole, but I lift my chin and march out. I've got a boardroom to own before I play bride.
The elevator to the 47th floor of Alverez Tower hums like it's got secrets. I smooth my navy blazer, catching my reflection in the glass. Chestnut hair's yanked into a tight bun, and my hazel eyes look like they mean business, even if my insides are a mess. The acquisition plan in my hands is my shot at making Father see me as more than his obedient kid, I'm his heir, damn it.
The doors slide open, and I step into the boardroom. A dozen suits turn to stare, their eyes sizing me up like I'm on trial. Father's at the head of the table, gray hair catching the sunlight, a cigar sitting untouched next to him like a prop. His gaze hits me, and my heart trips over itself. I flash a smile and stride to the front, clicking the projector on like I own the place.
"Morning, folks," I say, voice clear even though my pulse is banging like a drum. "I'm here to talk about snagging Velancia Tech. This deal's gonna lock us in as the big dogs in AI."
I flick to the first slide, graphs and numbers lighting up the screen. "Velancia's patents will hook right into our systems, juicing efficiency by 40%." I scan the room, watching for reactions. Most heads nod, but Father's face is a blank slate. The CEO, Hargrove, leans forward, blue eyes darting to me every few seconds, each look feeling like a pop quiz. My palms are sweaty, but I don't let it show.
"Year one, we're looking at $2.3 billion in revenue," I say, pointing at the chart. "By year three, it's $5 billion, low risk." I pause, letting the numbers hit home. A murmur ripples through, good, they're into it. But Father's silence is louder than anything.
Hargrove raises a hand. "Sienna, what about the feds? AI deals are getting a lot of side-eye these days."
I nod, ready for him. "We've got our lawyers on it. The deal's clean, and we've already got early approvals." I click to a slide with the legal rundown, keeping my voice steady even as Hargrove's eyes narrow. He leans back, satisfied, but Father still hasn't said a word.
"Any other questions?" I ask, sweeping the room. Nothing. I glance at Father, begging for a nod, a grunt, something. He taps his pen, slow, then stands.
"Well done, Sienna," he says, voice like ice. "We'll review and vote tomorrow." He walks out, and the room clears behind him. My chest feels like it's caving in. "Well done" isn't what I needed. I wanted pride, a sign I'm not screwing this up.
As I stuff my notes into my bag, Hargrove comes over. "Good job, Sienna. Your mom would've been proud." His smile's kind, but it stings like hell. I mumble a thanks and bolt for the elevator, throat burning. I'm trying, Mama. Hope you're watching.
The rose garden out back smells like flowers and fresh dirt, and for a second, it's like the world's not sitting on my shoulders. Clara and I are at this fancy wrought-iron table, sandwiches and iced tea spread out, a bowl of strawberries between us. The sun's warm, and I let myself chill for, like, half a minute. Clara's laugh snaps me back, her dark eyes crinkling as she tells me about her latest courtroom drama.
"So, the judge totally bought that this dude's dog ate the evidence!" she says, tossing her braid back. I crack up, but her smile drops, and I catch her hand shaking as she grabs her glass.
"Clara, what's up?" I ask, leaning in. "You've been weird all day."
She freezes, fingers tight around the glass. "It's nothing, Sienna. Just work crap." Her voice is too perky, and she won't look at me. Clara's been my ride-or-die since we were kids, she doesn't do secrets. Or she didn't.
"Come on," I say, softer. "Spill."
She sighs, setting the glass down. "It's your dad. He's got me digging into some old contracts, stuff from way before you were born. It's… off, but I don't know why yet." Her eyes meet mine, and there's real worry there, sharp as a blade.
My stomach knots up. Father's always been cagey, but this feels heavier. "What kinda contracts?" I ask.
She shakes her head. "No details yet. Just… watch your back, okay? He's been on edge since you got engaged." Her hand grabs mine, warm and solid. "You're getting hitched tomorrow. Focus on that. I'll handle this."
I nod, but my brain's racing. Father's been distant, sure, but it's just the wedding stress, right? The Alverez name, all eyes on us. I shove the thought down and fake a grin. "Fine, but you better be at the altar tomorrow with a real smile, not that lawyer face."
Clara laughs, and the air feels lighter. "Deal. Now grab a strawberry before I eat 'em all." She pops one in her mouth, and I grin, snagging one. The sweetness hits my tongue, and for a second, it's just us, like when we'd sneak snacks from the kitchen as kids. But Clara's warning sticks, a shadow I can't shake.
The estate's library is my safe spot, all dark wood and old books that smell like history. After lunch, I sneak in, needing a breather before tomorrow's madness. The wedding planner's checklist is on the desk, but I ignore it and pull a photo from my purse, me and Ethan at last year's gala, smiling, his arm around me, blue eyes warm. Tomorrow, he's mine for good. The thought steadies me.
The door creaks, and Valentina struts in, platinum hair catching the lamplight. Her red dress screams "look at me," and her smile's all charm, but her eyes are cold. "Still practicing your 'I do's?" she teases, voice syrupy.
I tuck the photo away. "Just thinking. What's up, Val?"
She shrugs, hopping onto the desk. "Can't check on my big sis? Tomorrow's huge." Her fingers trace the checklist, and her smile tightens. "Ethan's lucky. You're perfect, Sienna. Always are."
The words hit like a jab, bitter under the sugar. "Thanks," I say, standing. "Gotta meet the planner. Catch you at dinner?"
She nods, but her eyes follow me out, sharp and unreadable. My skin crawls. Val's always been competitive, but lately, it's like she's waiting for me to trip. She's my sister, though. Tomorrow, we'll be fine. Right?
The car hums down the estate's winding drive, late afternoon sun glinting off the hood. I lean back, head spinning from the day, vows, the boardroom, Clara's warning, Val's weird vibe. My phone buzzes, Ethan: Can't wait to see you in that dress. Love you. I smile, heart warming. Tomorrow's gonna be perfect. It better be.
As we round a corner, I glance up at the east wing. Val's on her balcony, red dress blazing against the stone, gripping the railing so hard her knuckles are white, like she's gearing up for a fight. Her eyes catch mine for a split second, hard and fierce, before she spins and vanishes inside. My breath catches. The car keeps going, but my chest feels heavy, like I just saw something I wasn't supposed to.