I Switched Fiancés After His Betrayal with My Stepsister Novel Chapter 7 – After leaving, Isaac sent me a message inviting our families to discuss the wedding arrangements. The next day, we all gathered at the old manor. The place was teeming with prominent community figures. As soon as I entered, I felt the weight of many eyes on me. These relatives didn’t seem to hold me in high regard, their glances sharp and judgmental.
Only Chaya, Isaac’s grandmother, greeted me warmly. She enthusiastically took me to the dinner table, asking about my well-being and reminiscing about the past. Even my father, Clay, appeared to show me respect, genuinely eager for me to marry into the Young family. With his polished words, he described me as a dutiful and considerate daughter. It was surprising to hear him speak like that; he used to praise me this way. But ever since Bria and her daughter, Neriah, came into our lives, I had been painted as selfish and inconsiderate in their eyes.
The dinner was pleasant enough, with spiced honey cake making the atmosphere enjoyable. After greeting a few elders, I excused myself to the restroom. Gazing at my reflection, I wondered if marrying Isaac was truly my best choice. Just then, Neriah, strutting in high heels, joined me at the sink, her expression smug and mocking.
“Don’t get too comfortable just because Chaya likes you,” she sneered. “Trust me, the real drama hasn’t started yet. Who says you’ll even be part of the family?”
I couldn’t fully understand her cryptic comment, but knowing her jealousy, I brushed it off. At that moment, Isaac appeared, taking my hand with determination.
“Some people make noise when they can’t get what they want. No one can stop me from being with the person I’ve chosen,” he stated firmly.
His unwavering gaze filled me with a warmth I hadn’t felt before. Neriah stormed off, furious at his words. With Isaac’s support, I returned to the living room, where he introduced me to his friends and family. Under his influence, their attitudes toward me seemed to change.
As conversations carried on cheerfully, there was suddenly a pause. All eyes turned to the large screen in the room. A video played, showing me disheveled, with wild hair and vacant eyes. The word “deranged” came to mind, portraying me as losing control and venting deep-seated anger.
Whispers quickly spread, and every glance felt like a spotlight on me.
“Oh my, what’s wrong with her? She looks unstable. Can Isaac really bring home someone like that?”
A sudden, overwhelming pain washed over me, my eyes burning with unshed tears. That year, my mother’s passing had thrown me into despair. I spent days crying, unable to accept her death or my own disability. I isolated myself, refusing to leave the house. Then, when my father brought Bria and Neriah into our home, rumors spread that they were involved in my mother’s accident. I was like a madwoman, consumed by anger, but I was too young to do anything. Her death left a permanent scar on my heart.
This video, crudely edited, portrayed me as a lunatic. Seeing this, Bria quickly moved to calm the guests, her voice trembling with feigned emotion, playing the part of a concerned stepmother.