But then the door slammed. Oliver’s shadow filled the room, and in the next second, his hand snatched the tickets from mine.
“What the hell are you doing?” His voice was sharp, cold enough to freeze the air.
I stepped back, my words tumbling clumsily. “I—I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just cleaning. I… I can pretend I never saw it. I’ll act surprised when you give it to me on my birthday.” I forced a small smile, my chest tight with hope.
But instead of smiling back, Oliver laughed. Cruel, bitter.
“You think this is for you? Seriously? Do you think you deserve this?”
The words slapped harder than any hand. My lips parted, my voice quivering. “But… you promised. Years ago, you said you’d take me on a cruise for my 50th birthday. I thought—”
“You thought wrong.” His laughter twisted into venom. “This isn’t for you. This is for Beatrice. She earned it. She closed the deal with the investors. This is my reward to her. She deserves this trip. Not you.”
Beatrice. My stepsister. The woman my father had loved more than me. The woman who had taken everything I wanted in life, even now.
“But… but there are so many tickets,” I whispered. “Surely one—”