Part 2 I climbed the stairs without saying a word.
I climbed the stairs without saying a word.
Behind me, I could still hear laughter.
Cabinets opening.
People discussing where to put furniture.
Someone was already talking about converting my home office into a guest room.
When I reached my bedroom, I stopped.
The door was open.
My closet doors were open too.
Beatrice and one of Lucas’s aunts had already begun looking through my clothes.
“This closet is huge,” the aunt said.
Beatrice nodded.
“I’ll need at least half of it.”
She turned around and froze when she saw me standing in the doorway.
“Oh,” she said casually. “You’re back.”
I looked at the dresses hanging in my closet.
Then at the open jewelry box on my dresser.
Then at the family photo beside my bed.
Not one person had asked permission.
“What are you doing?”
Beatrice didn’t seem embarrassed.
“We’re organizing.”
“For what?”
“For after the wedding.”
She smiled as though explaining something obvious.
“You’ll move your things over to the smaller guest room.”
I blinked once.
“My bedroom?”
“Our bedroom,” she corrected.
“I’ll take the master suite downstairs. My knees don’t like stairs.”
I looked at Lucas, who had finally wandered upstairs.
“Did you know about this?”
He shoved his hands into his pockets.
“It just makes sense.”
“Makes sense?”
“My mom’s getting older.”
“So your solution is to give her my bedroom?”
“Our bedroom,” he repeated.
“No,” I said quietly.
“My bedroom.”
The hallway fell silent.
Lucas frowned.
“Why are you being so possessive?”
I almost laughed.
“Possessive… of my own house?”
Beatrice folded her arms.
“Felicity, once you’re married, a wife should think about the whole family.”
“I am.”
“Then stop being selfish.”
I looked at her for several seconds.
Then I reached into my purse.
Without saying another word, I walked back downstairs.
Everyone watched me.
Children stopped running.
Conversations faded.
I picked up my phone.
Lucas sighed loudly.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
I opened an app.
The security system.
Three weeks earlier, after a series of neighborhood break-ins, I had upgraded every lock in the house.
The installer had asked me if I wanted multiple administrators.
I had declined.
There was only one.
Me.
Lucas still believed the metal key I had given him controlled the entire house.
It didn’t.
It only unlocked the front door.
Every interior smart lock, garage access point, and security code belonged to my account alone.
I pressed one button.
REVOKE ALL GUEST ACCESS.
The system responded instantly.
Guest credentials removed.
A loud electronic click echoed through the house.
Then another.
Then another.
Every smart lock engaged simultaneously.
Lucas looked confused.
“What was that?”
I smiled politely.
“The house remembering who owns it.”
His smile disappeared.
Before anyone could react, the front door locked automatically.
The patio doors locked.
The garage door disengaged.
Even the upstairs bedroom locks activated.
Beatrice frowned.
“What did you just do?”
“I changed the security settings.”
Lucas reached into his pocket and pulled out his key.
He walked to the front door.
Inserted it.
Turned it.
Nothing.
He tried again.
Nothing.
“What the…”
“The physical key only works while I authorize it.”
He stared at me.
“You disabled my key?”
“Yes.”
“You can’t be serious.”
“I’ve never been more serious.”
Beatrice stepped forward.
“This is ridiculous!”
“No,” I answered.
“What was ridiculous was walking into someone else’s house and assigning yourselves bedrooms.”
Lucas lowered his voice.
“Felicity.”
“Stop embarrassing me.”
I looked directly into his eyes.
“Embarrassing you?”
“You told everyone you bought this house.”
His face stiffened.
“It was easier that way.”
“For whom?”
He didn’t answer.
I continued.
“My parents bought this home.”
“My name is the only one on the deed.”
“My name is the only one on the mortgage records.”
“My name is the only one on the insurance policy.”
I paused.
“You own absolutely nothing here.”
His uncle suddenly cleared his throat.
“Lucas… is that true?”
Lucas looked away.
No answer.
His cousin frowned.
“You said you paid for everything.”
Still no answer.
Then Beatrice snapped.
“It doesn’t matter whose name is on the paperwork!”
“We’re family!”
I smiled.
“No.”
“We’re not.”
The room became perfectly still.
“What did you say?” Lucas asked.
“I said we’re not family.”
“Not anymore.”
I reached into my handbag again.
This time I removed a white envelope.
Lucas recognized it immediately.
His smile vanished.
“The wedding venue contract?” he whispered.
“Yes.”
I placed it on the dining table.
Right beside the untouched food his family had brought.
“The venue.”
“The florist.”
“The caterer.”
“The photographer.”
“All canceled this afternoon.”
He stared at me.
“You canceled the wedding?”
“I postponed nothing.”
“I canceled everything.”
Beatrice’s face turned crimson.
“You can’t do this!”
“I already did.”
Lucas stepped toward me.
“You’re overreacting.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
“I simply listened.”
“To your silence.”
“To your lies.”
“And to the plans your family made for my home while I was still paying the utility bills.”
At that exact moment, the doorbell rang.
Everyone turned.
Through the glass, two uniformed police officers stood on the porch.
Lucas looked at me in confusion.
“You called the police?”
“I called the non-emergency line,” I replied calmly.
“I told them several people entered my home without my permission and refused to leave.”
Beatrice laughed nervously.
“They won’t remove family.”
I opened the front door remotely from my phone.
The officers stepped inside.
One of them looked around the crowded living room.
Then he asked one simple question.
“Ma’am…”
“Are you the legal owner of this property?”
“I am.”
He nodded once.
Then he turned toward Lucas and his relatives.
“Ladies and gentlemen…”
“If the homeowner wants you to leave…”
“You need to leave now.”
For the first time that evening, every confident smile in the room disappeared.