Your Regret Isn't My Problem

My fiancé's older brother was into girls with tiny waists. He wanted to marry my foster sister—the one with the twenty-one-inch waist. Their wedding? Same day Eric and I were supposed to get hitched. When he found out, Eric begged me to swap with Briana. "Lena, it's always been Briana. If your family hadn't found you, she wouldn't have had to play fake heiress, and I wouldn't be stuck with you." I stayed quiet. He kept digging. "Chill. My brother won't even touch you. Once the dust settles, I'll bring you back—as my side piece." Staring at that fake, slimy smile, I felt a little out of it. Last time, I told him no—and still ended up married to him, beaten until I died. Then I woke up. Same day. Same plea from Eric. This time, I handed them exactly what they wanted. "Fine. I'll marry him." Eric lit up like he'd won. Didn't last long. Next thing I knew, he was out in the rain, on his knees, clutching his head, sobbing, begging me to leave his brother and come back. Chapter 1 Borevia City, Carmoria. "You have to be there." Eric popped open a velvet case, rocking that same smug face he wore when he asked me to switch grooms. "This is your parents' heirloom," he said—cool, commanding. "You want it? Come to Briana's party tonight." It was the last thing my real parents gave me before they died. Eric had tricked me into handing it over. I was taking it back. I dropped my gaze, hiding the ice in my eyes. "Fine. I'll go." A smug smile flickered across Eric's face as he grabbed his coat and walked out. The Santoro engagement was mine from day one. I'd been stolen at birth, and in their grief, my real parents adopted Briana. After my adoptive parents died, I bounced around the orphanage system. At fifteen, the Leone family finally tracked me down. Everyone said Eric was my future. And I mistook him for someone from my past. He backed me up when people called me a country bumpkin. Showed up with birthday surprises. Stuck close after the crash that took my real parents. After that, I followed him like he was everything. But somewhere along the way, his attention started drifting—to Briana. We were born on the same day, but he only ever remembered hers. I should've seen it coming. Even back then. *** The party was at the priciest country club in the city. Eric led Briana right into the spotlight, grinning like he'd hit the jackpot, wine glass in hand. Then a server handed him a deep brown leather box. He popped it open—limited-edition watch, ladies' style. "Happy birthday, Briana." He strapped it on her wrist. "Whoa! Wasn't that at the Geneva Watch Fair last year? I heard there's only five of those in the world!" someone gasped. "Eric spoils Briana so much! Lena seriously needs to quit clinging to an engagement that was clearly meant for Briana." I let out a bitter laugh under my breath. That watch? It was supposed to be my birthday gift. Now it was shining on Briana's wrist. I pushed the door open. The room fell silent. Every head turned—judging, smirking, eating it up. "Well, well," someone drawled. "Isn't that the Leone family's REAL heiress? What's this—staking her claim?" "Please," another scoffed. "She's just here to embarrass herself. Eric's in love with Briana. He wants HER." Briana shot me a smug smile. She flicked her wrist, letting the watch catch the light. Chapter 2 "Lena, look!" Briana cooed, dragging out the word like she was on stage. "Isn't the birthday gift Eric gave me beautiful? It's a global LIMITED edition." The crowd jumped in right on cue. "So pretty!" "Eric really knows how to treat her!" I dropped my gaze, fingers curling into fists. Eric's smile twitched. He gave Briana's wrist a light tug. "That's enough. Cut it out." She pouted but backed off. Eventually. Eric gave me a cold glance. "I brought the bracelet. Just play nice, make Briana happy, and it's yours later." "Play nice?" I said. "You mean go along with your little humiliation game?" "Don't be ungrateful," he warned, voice dropping. "I still have the bracelet." Briana jumped in, all fake-sweet. "Lena, don't be mad. Everyone's just teasing." Right on cue— "Yeah, Lena, don't be so sensitive." "Guess some bumpkins just don't belong in high society." Every word sliced like a knife. My hand clenched at my side, palm slick with sweat. I told myself to suck it up. That bracelet—my family's heirloom—was still in Eric's hands. I couldn't risk losing it. Eric looked smug, like my silence was proof I'd stay in line. "Come on, Lena," he said, handing me a glass. "Give Briana a toast. Wish her a happy birthday." The crowd started chanting, "Drink! Drink! Drink!" I took the glass, eyeing the murky mix. It was clearly a mashup of whatever they had on hand. But for the bracelet, I swallowed my pride. Eyes shut, I downed it in one shot. The taste hit weird—salty, bitter. Almost made me gag. But I forced it down and held out my hand. "Bracelet." Eric clicked his tongue and tossed me the velvet case. As I turned to go, I heard him whisper to Briana, "It's just a bracelet. I'll get you a better one." I didn't look back. This time around, I wanted nothing to do with them. But life doesn't always play fair. *** I'd barely stepped out of the clubhouse when a black van pulled up, quiet as a whisper. The side door slid open with a sharp clang. A few guys in baseball caps jumped out—fast, ruthless, eyes like ice. I clutched the velvet case to my chest. My palm was soaked. "That's her. Go!" the lead guy barked. Before he even finished, a fist came flying. I flinched back—straight into a wall. Nowhere to run. A punch slammed into my shoulder, and everything blurred. One of them grabbed my wrist and slammed me back against the wall. "Who are you? What do you want?" I spat. No answer. Just fists and kicks, dull and brutal. I curled around the case, trying to protect it. Then someone kicked me in the gut. I hit the ground, gasping. The case slipped from my arms and hit the pavement. Crack. The antique glass-inlay bracelet spilled out—and shattered. Just like that. The men froze, eyes flicking to the broken pieces. "Go," the leader said. Cold. They disappeared into the night. I lay there, gasping. Arms, face—everything burned. My eyes locked on the shattered bracelet. My fingers wouldn't stop shaking. Chapter 3 My chest heaved, every inch of me screaming like I'd been ripped apart. Then—click, click, click. Heels on pavement. Briana. She stepped into view, smirk locked in place. Fake surprise dripped from her voice: "What's wrong, Lena? Cat got your tongue—or was it the drink? You know, the one the boys jerked off into?" "You! You all—" Nausea slammed into me. I shoved my fingers down my throat, desperate to throw it up—nothing. I reached out, grabbing for her skirt. She stepped on my hand, cool as ever, then dusted off her dress like I was something disgusting stuck to her heel. "Honestly, how useless can you be?" she sneered. "Can't even protect something your parents left you." She spread her hands like she was innocent. "Oh, and those guys? I sent them. Just meant to scare you a little. Didn't expect... well, I guess that heirloom wasn't yours after all." "Briana." My voice was rough, but steady. "You'll regret this." She paused, then grinned wider. "I'm looking forward to it, Lena." And just like that, she turned and walked off. I lay there on the cold pavement, clutching the shattered bracelet pieces. Then I forced myself up. By the time I got home, her mocking voice was still ringing in my head. But then— I laughed. If peace was off the table, fine. I wasn't playing the victim anymore. Tomorrow, they'd all see— Who the real Leone heir was. *** I didn't come back without backup. I kept a recorder on me—always. After a beat, I made the call. "I need you to pull some surveillance footage." The guy on the other end tried to play it cool, but I could hear the excitement. "Got it." That night, I sat at my desk, uploaded the audio, and dropped it on every high-society gossip board I could find—plus a few tabloids that lived for this kind of drama. The headline was simple: [Fake Leone Heiress Hires Thugs to Assault Real Heiress and Smash Family Heirloom—Recording Leaked!] In less than thirty minutes, the comment sections blew up. [WTF, this is that sweet, gentle Briana Leone?] [She sounds UNHINGED!] [The real heiress got jumped and humiliated? That's savage.] By 2 a.m., my family group chat was a full-on meltdown. Uncle Novah: [What's going on?!] Aunt Jessica: [Briana would NEVER do something like this!] Uncle George: [Everyone calm down. Family meeting. 9 a.m. sharp. Mansion.] *** Next morning, I strutted into the Leone mansion in a sleek black dress. Every elder at the table looked like they'd sucked a lemon. Eric wouldn't meet my eyes—torn between guilt and irritation. Briana? Puffy-eyed and pitiful. Guess the waterworks ran all night. "Lena Leone!" Uncle Novah slammed the table. "How could you post that online? You'll ruin Briana!" I smiled, barely. Dropped a printed doc on the table. "She ruined herself. That's from my lawyer." Dead silence. "I'm suing Briana. Assault, property damage. And the rest of you—" I scanned the room. "Try messing with me again, and I'll see you in court." Chapter 4 Aunt Jessica shrieked, "Are you seriously going against the Leone family?" I shrugged. "I'm protecting what's mine. You don't get to twist the rules." Eric hovered nearby, scowling. "Lena, don't push it." I laughed, sharp and cold. "You and Briana drag me through the mud, sic thugs on me, trash my parents' heirloom—and I'm the problem?" I pulled a USB from my bag, dropped it on the table. "Last night's surveillance footage. Everything you did—caught in 4K." Eric's head snapped up, face going ghost-white. He hadn't counted on me finding the footage he tried to erase. I added, "Touch me, and this goes to every media outlet. Let's see how long you keep up the act." Silence. Uncle Novah opened his mouth—nothing came out. I stood, slid the transfer docs to Briana. I'd given her those shares after our parents died, thinking she had no one. "Sign it. Or see me in court." Her hand shook, eyes glossy. "Lena, I—" "Don't. We're not sisters." My voice sliced through the room. "You don't deserve that title." She bit her lip and signed. I scooped up the docs and headed for the door. Right as I stepped out, I heard the whispers behind me. "That girl's completely out of control." *** Back home, my phone lit up. Unknown number. "Ms. Leone, I'm Shelby Santoro's assistant. He'd like to meet for lunch tomorrow. Says it's important." Shelby? Yeah, right. Like that was actually him. Still... I paused—then said yes. Might as well see what game they were playing now. That night, I showed up at the restaurant like we agreed. The private suite door swung open—and yeah, my blood went ice cold. Of course it was them. Eric and Briana. They were all smug, like predators waiting on their kill. "Lena, you came," Briana said, all fake sweet. "Oops, I told Eric's assistant to pretend he was Shelby's." Eric leaned back, smug as hell. "You made Briana sign those compensation papers today. She's upset. Now it's your turn." He slapped a thick stack of papers on the table. "Sign it. Waives your rights to everything—shares, property, all of it." I glanced at the title: [Voluntary Renunciation of Inheritance.] Let out a short laugh. "So we're doing forced now?" Eric's face dropped cold. "You'll find out soon enough." He clapped once. Huge guys stepped out from behind the screen wall—built like tanks. I faked a shaky breath, legs wobbling. "Briana, don't! What are you doing?!" Briana laughed so hard she nearly choked. "Weren't you all tough earlier? Here's the deal—let me slap you a few times, and maybe I'll let you go. Cool?" I stepped toward her. Slow. Calm. Right as I got close, I slipped a knife from my sleeve and pressed it to her throat. "Lena! Are you insane?!" Eric shot up, face white with fury. I didn't flinch. "Move." Chapter 5 Eric's hands twitched, but he didn't move. I kept the blade steady, dragging Briana with me toward the door. "What do you want?" he snapped, jaw tight. "Easy," I said, chin lifted. "I walk out safe—and you both stay far away. At least until I marry Shelby." "Fine! Fine, I promise!" He waved the bodyguards off, fast. I backed out, Briana still in front of me. We made it through the corridor. At the entrance, I shoved her straight into Eric's arms—then vanished into the night. And just like they promised, they never came near me again. Everything stayed chill... right up to the wedding. The Leones and Santoros were buzzing from sunrise. Two weddings, one day? Total spectacle. Carmorian tradition said the bride had to wear a lace veil until the private reveal. So, I kept mine on the whole time. Right before I left the bridal suite, Eric texted: [Lena, just follow the maid later. Don't worry, my brother won't be into you. I'll come get you first thing in the morning!] I rolled my eyes and blocked him. The bride swap went off without a hitch—exactly how Eric and Briana planned it. That night, I sat on the edge of the bed, hands clammy, heart racing. The door creaked open. Footsteps. Calm, steady. Fingers brushed back the lace veil. *** Shelby. No shock. No double take. Just this quiet look—like he'd known it was me the whole time. He let out a low chuckle. "Took you long enough." I smirked. "Appreciate the help with the footage." Shelby and I went way back. Last time around, Briana bailed on the wedding, and Shelby got dragged through the mud. Me? I married Eric. Ended up broken, beaten... dead. Never did learn what happened to Shelby. Right after I came back, I reached out to him. No hesitation—he helped me, no questions asked. That's when it hit me... maybe he actually liked me. But if that was true, then why agree to marry Briana at all? While I was lost in thought, Shelby stepped closer, and I caught the sharp tang of alcohol. "You've been drinking?" I glanced up. "Everyone kept toasting." His jaw tightened, hands curling into fists. "Something's wrong." Right then, his breathing went shaky. His eyes flared—wild, burning. I jerked back. "It was spiked." My stomach sank. I didn't need proof—this had Briana written all over it. "Lena." His voice dropped, rough and strained. "Don't look at me." But I did. Met his eyes, steady. Then he kissed me. Hard. Desperate. Like he was falling apart and I was the only thing holding him up. His hands shook. He was trying not to lose control. I wrapped my arms around his neck, kissed him soft. "It's okay," I breathed against his lips. "I want this." His arms locked around me like he'd never let go. "Okay." *** After a long night wrapped up in each other, I was still curled against him when— Bang! Bang! Bang! The pounding on the door yanked us both out of sleep. "Open up! Open this door now!"