The morning before my sister wedding, our driver suddenly quietly said, “Lie down on the back seat and cover yourself with a blanket. You need to hear this.” I refused, but he insisted, “Trust me.” Half an hour later, I heard takeo…

“Good,” my father replied. “Straight to the bridal suite.”

The vehicle stopped. Marcus stepped out, walked around the back as if checking something, and opened my door just slightly.

“Now,” he whispered.

I sat up abruptly, blanket falling from my shoulders. My hands trembled but my voice came out clear.

“Good morning,” I said.

My father’s face drained of color. Daniel turned sharply, shock written across his features.

“What are you doing?” Thomas snapped.

“I heard everything,” I replied.

Daniel swallowed. “Naomi, listen—”

“No,” I cut in. “You listen. There will be no signature. No transfer. No notary. And if anyone tries to present documents in my name today, I will involve my attorney before the ceremony starts.”

“You’re overreacting,” my father said, switching to cold authority.

I lifted my phone. “I recorded you.”

Silence.

Karen, my mother, appeared from the entrance in heels and silk, smile already fixed. “Naomi! We’re late—”

“What was I supposed to sign, Mom?” I asked evenly.

Her smile froze.

Daniel’s confidence wavered for the first time. “This wasn’t supposed to—”

“Be exposed?” I asked.

We walked inside together, tension trailing behind us like smoke.

The bridal suite, meant for champagne and laughter, fell silent when we entered. My sister, Emily, sat in a white robe while stylists hovered nervously.

“What is happening?” she demanded.

“Nothing,” Karen began quickly. “Naomi is just stressed—”

“Stop,” Daniel said sharply, surprising everyone.

I placed my phone on the vanity. “They were going to have me sign over my voting shares this morning. As a ‘wedding gift.’”

Emily stared. “What?”

“It’s just restructuring,” Thomas insisted.

“It’s a takeover,” I said. “You used that word.”

Emily looked at our mother. “Did you know?”

Karen hesitated too long.