My Brother Stole My Fiancée on Our Wedding Day. I Spent a Year Ruining His Life, Only to Realize I Was Becoming Him.
The Invitation and the Betrayal
The envelope felt heavy in my hand, heavier than cardstock and gold foil had any right to be. I didn’t open it immediately. I just ran my thumb over the embossed lettering of my own last name, knowing exactly what sat inside. A year of silence, broken by this pristine, creamy square of audacity.
I tossed it onto the diner table. It landed between a bottle of ketchup and Rita’s trembling hands.
“It’s here,” I said, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. “The grand finale.”
Fuko sat across from me, her eyes darting between the invitation and her brother. The diner smelled of stale coffee and fryer grease, a stark contrast to the elegant wedding we were discussing. Usually, Rita would be cracking jokes, spinning his lighter on the table, eager for the chaos. Today, he looked like he was about to vomit.
“Hiori,” Rita started, not meeting my gaze. He picked at the label of his beer bottle. “We need to talk about the timeline. About… everything.”
“The timeline is set,” I said, tapping the envelope. “Next Saturday. We have the audio files. We have the guest list of creditors. We’re ready.”
“I can’t do it.”
The air in the booth went still. Fuko froze, her milkshake halfway to her lips. “Rita? What are you talking about?”
Rita finally looked up, and the desperation in his eyes was a physical blow. He looked older than twenty-six, haggard and grey-skinned. “I’m out, Hiori. I can’t go to the wedding. I can’t run the tech.”
“Why?” My question was a whisper, but it carried the weight of a year’s worth of obsession.
“Debts,” he mumbled, wiping sweat from his upper lip. “Bad ones. The kind where they don’t send letters, they send guys with bats. I was drowning. Then, out of nowhere, I get this gig. A private security consultation. Huge retainer. Enough to clear the books.” He swallowed hard. “It’s Yoshiki. He hired me to run security for the reception.
He doesn’t know it’s me—he hired the agency name—but if I sabotage him, if I breach that contract… I don’t just lose the money. I get buried.”
My stomach churned. Yoshiki. Even blindly, stumbling through life with his ego as his only compass, my brother managed to buy everyone I needed. He had the money, the luck, the gravity. I had nothing but a plan that was rapidly disintegrating.
“So you’re choosing him,” I said.
“I’m choosing my kneecaps, man! I’m sorry. I’ll give you the files, but I can’t be there. I’m going to tell him you’re not coming, keep him calm.”
Panic flared in my chest, hot and sharp. If Rita backed out, the technical aspect failed. If he warned Yoshiki, the ambush failed. I would be the pathetic little brother again, standing outside the gates while Yoshiki laughed inside.
I looked at Fuko. She was staring at Rita with open-mouthed shock, but I saw the sisterly concern creeping in. She would forgive him. She would let him walk away to save himself.
I couldn’t.
I reached into my jacket pocket and pulled out my phone. I didn’t look at the screen; I looked at Rita. “You’re not walking away, Rita.”
“Hiori, please—”
“I know about the unlicensed surveillance jobs you did last year,” I said. The words tasted like ash, dry and bitter. “The blackmail photos for that councilman. The tracking devices on the police chief’s wife.”
Rita went rigid. Fuko gasped, “Hiori, stop.”
“If you back out,” I continued, my voice steady, completely detached from the nausea rising in my throat, “I send everything to the precinct. You won’t just have debt collectors after you. You’ll be in a cell.”
“You wouldn’t,” Rita whispered. His face had gone from grey to white. “We’re friends. Since kindergarten.”
“And Yoshiki is my brother,” I snapped, slamming my hand on the table. The silverware clattered. “Blood didn’t stop him from ruining me. Friendship isn’t going to stop me from ruining him. You are going to that wedding. You are going to play that tape. Or I destroy you first.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. Rita looked at me like I was a stranger—a dangerous, unpredictable stranger. Slowly, he nodded. He looked defeated, small.
I turned to Fuko, expecting validation. Instead, she was pressing herself against the back of the booth, as if trying to put distance between us. Her eyes were wide, filled not with the warmth I’d relied on for months, but with genuine fear.
“Hiori,” she breathed, shaking her head. “What have you become?”
I didn’t answer. I picked up the wedding invitation and slid it into my pocket. I had secured my weapon, but looking at their faces, I knew I had just spent the last of my soul to buy it.
