Page 20 of Enemies with My Brother's Billionaire Bestie

“I’m sorry for not telling you sooner,” she stammers, her voice shaky. “Ollie had this really cool last-minute idea, so…”

“So you both decided to keep me out of it? Do you think that speaks well of your professionalism?” My words slice through the air, and I see the impact they have. Emma’s hands tremble, her lips quivering as she tries to come up with a defense.

But it’s Olivia who arrives to save the day, glaring at me like she’s some kind of hero. “If you’re going to bully someone, why don’t you take your pent-up rage out on me? I told her to keep it from you.”

I shake my head in disbelief, trying to keep my voice low as more guests arrive, knowing the tension will only make things worse.

“This makes no sense, Ollie. Look at the candles everywhere. It’s supposed to be asimplerehearsal dinner for heaven’s sake!”

She surveys the room with a shrug, as if everything looks perfectly fine to her. “I don’t know, Elliot, the look on the guests’ faces says otherwise.” Of course, people are taking photos, admiring the setup, but that’s not the point.

“Look around, Ollie. We have drapes, linens, and curtains flying everywhere. Over a hundred candles lit up. Don’t you think the chances of this ending in disaster are a bit high?”I seethe through gritted teeth, my fists clenched to keep from yelling.

The look in her eyes tells me she hadn’t thought that far ahead, and why would she? She was too focused on creating a fairy-tale atmosphere.

“Jeez, Ollie, this is foolishness. You need to take some of these out.”

“I’m not taking anything down,” she snaps defiantly, her voice sharp. “It’s my brother’s wedding, not yours, so I get a say in what stays or goes.”

The stubbornness in her tone would be cute under different circumstances, but right now, it feels like a ticking time bomb.

“You don’t understand,” I mutter, my frustration mounting.

“I understand what you’re saying,” she says with an unwavering glance. “Make sure the servers are extra careful tonight. We don’t need any mishaps.”

Her calmness only fuels the fire in me. As we stand glaring at each other, Emma steps in, looking helpless as she says, “Please, can we save the fighting for later? The bride and groom just arrived. We need to put up a united front.”

Olivia squeals, turning away from me as if I’m the one who’s been unreasonable. “See? Julia loves the idea, so you can save your lecture for later, grumpy.”

I’ve lost this battle. But getting through the night without any drama—or worse, accidents—will take nothing short of a miracle. I storm into the kitchen, barking orders to the servers as my heart races.

Aaron follows me in, and we stand side by side as we watch the kitchen operations. “So, did she agree to take out the candles?” he asks, his tone casual but laced with curiosity.

I wipe the sweat from my forehead with my handkerchief, trying to keep my composure. “What do you think? That woman is more stubborn than a mule.”

“I guess that’s what makes you two a perfect match,” he jokes, but I shoot him a glare that could melt ice.

“Bad time for jokes, Aaron. Anyway, let’s just hope nothing goes wrong tonight.”

“I hope we make it through,” he mutters under his breath, as we both silently pray for the night to pass without incident.

The evening moves on, and I can see Julia glowing as she moves through the room, hugging guests and wiping away tears at the sight of the extravagant setup. But none of it changes the fact that Olivia left me out of this. If she had included me, we could have toned down the drapes, chosen shorter table linens—anything to avoid the disaster this could become.

An hour into the event, my servers have somehow managed to keep everything under control. The guests are complimenting the food, the atmosphere, the candles. But I can’t bring myself to care. All I’m thinking about is the reckless, childish decision Olivia made to go behind my back.

The night continues in the usual fashion, with speeches and toasts. Julia’s eyes fill with tears as she hears heartfelt words, and when it’s my turn to speak, I’m still tongue-tied, the weight of the evening pressing down on me.

“I don’t have some grand speech prepared, at least not tonight,” I say, my voice quieter than I intended. A few people laugh, the tension easing for a moment.

“But I’ll say this: Daniel’s been more than just a friend—he’s been the brother I never had. Watching him fall in love with the most amazing woman, who is now becoming family, is one of the greatest joys of my life. To Daniel and Julia, here’s to a love that lasts.”

Daniel hugs me as I raise my glass for the toast. Olivia’s speech is next. She’s visibly excited as she begins, “Every love story starts with soft touches, fluttering glances, and the picture-perfect moments we all dream about. But for Jules and Dee, it’sa story of two imperfect people growing and learning to become perfect together. Here’s to a happier ending than any romance author could ever imagine.”

Her words linger in my mind, but not in the way she intended. A story of two imperfect people growing to be perfect together. Is that really what love is? A constant journey of growth, overcoming flaws, and enduring resilience? Does love have to be aboutfixingeach other? And if it isn’t perfect, what’s the point?

As the night draws on, I try to push the questions out of my mind. But they linger, casting shadows on what should be a celebratory occasion.

When the cake is finally brought out, I see the look of delight on everyone’s faces as they admire the lavender vanilla wedding cake. All the hours my staff and I spent perfecting it now feel worthwhile.

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