6.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

Charlotte woke to the sound of a truck reversing outside her window.

She groaned, rolled onto her other side, and pulled the duvet over her head, hoping whoever was making all that noise would have the decency to stop. Unfortunately, the rumbling only grew louder, followed by the sound of men shouting to one another and something heavy being dragged across the driveway.

She opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"You're kidding me."

It was barely six in the morning.

For the past three days, trucks had been arriving at the Sinclair estate with flowers, furniture, decorations, and enough equipment to host a small festival. Workers had taken over the gardens, event planners had filled the main house with their endless discussions, and the staff had been running around as though the future of the country depended on everything being ready on time.

All because Sean Sinclair was getting married.

Again.

Well, technically, it would be his first wedding to the woman he actually wanted, but Charlotte wasn't interested in the details. Her husband had cheated on her with her twin sister, and now the two of them were preparing to celebrate their love with a wedding that would probably cost more than most people earned in a lifetime.

And they were doing it in her father's home.

Charlotte pushed the duvet aside and sat up, her full figure sinking slightly into the mattress as she stretched her arms above her head. She had never been a morning person, and the past five months had done nothing to improve her relationship with early mornings.

Another truck beeped outside.

She grabbed a pillow and threw it toward the window.

"Go away!"

The pillow landed nowhere near its target, of course, but it made her feel slightly better.

She climbed out of bed and padded toward the window in her bare feet. When she pulled the curtains apart, the sight outside made her mouth fall open.

The grounds were a complete mess.

Several flatbed trucks stood along the driveway, while workers unloaded crates of white roses and enormous arrangements of imported orchids. A team of decorators was assembling a glass marquee on the lawn, and two men were struggling to carry a large ornamental arch toward the main entrance.

Charlotte stared at them in disbelief.

Her father's beautiful garden was being turned into a wedding venue.

She looked toward the old oak tree near the fountain, where workers had already begun tying white ribbons around the lower branches.

"Oh, absolutely not."

That tree had been there since she was a child. Her father used to sit beneath it with her and Olivia on warm evenings, listening to their endless arguments and pretending he couldn't tell which twin had started them. It was one of the few places on the estate that still made Charlotte feel close to him.

She sincerely hoped the wedding planners knew better than to damage it.

With one last irritated look outside, she let the curtains fall and headed for the bathroom.

Five months ago, the thought of Sean marrying Olivia would have been enough to ruin her entire day. She would have spent hours wondering how he could move on so easily after five years of marriage, how Olivia could look at her without shame, and whether everyone who had ever called their relationship a love story had forgotten that Charlotte was a person, too.

Now, she mostly found them exhausting.

That didn't mean she was completely unaffected. There were still moments when the hurt caught her off guard, usually when she saw an old photograph or remembered something Sean had once said to her. But she had stopped allowing those moments to decide how the rest of her day would go.

She was learning to live with what had happened.

More importantly, she was learning that her life did not have to end simply because her marriage had.

After showering, Charlotte stood before her wardrobe and considered what to wear.

For years, she had hidden herself inside oversized dresses, loose blouses, and clothes that covered as much of her figure as possible. Sean had never been subtle about his dislike of her weight, and his mother had made enough cruel remarks to ensure Charlotte rarely forgot it. Eventually, she had started dressing as though the safest thing she could do was make herself less noticeable.

That had changed after the night at the gala.

Not completely. Charlotte still had days when she reached for something loose and comfortable without thinking, and she wasn't suddenly in love with every part of her reflection. But she had stopped treating her body like something she needed to apologise for.

She was a plus-sized woman. That was all there was to it.

She could wear a fitted dress without looking for a jacket to hide beneath, and she could wear a blouse that followed her shape without spending the entire day wondering what Sean or his mother would have to say about it.

They no longer had a say.

Charlotte selected a fitted burgundy blouse and a pair of black tailored trousers. She added small gold earrings, slipped into a pair of comfortable flats, and brushed her hair into place before studying herself in the mirror.

It was simple enough for work, but it suited her.

More importantly, she liked it.

She had a meeting at Sinclair Holdings that morning, and she had no intention of arriving looking as though she had rolled out of bed just because her ex-husband was busy turning her childhood home into a wedding venue.

The thought made her smile faintly.

Five months ago, she would never have imagined returning to the company so soon after everything that had happened. For weeks, she had avoided the office, ignored calls from people who wanted to offer their condolences, and left most of the business correspondence unopened. She had needed time away from Sean, from the people who took his side, and from the constant reminder that the life she had known was gone.

But Sinclair Holdings was not Sean's personal property.

Her father had built the company long before Sean became its chief executive. What had started as a modest family business had grown into one of the country's most established investment and property groups under his leadership. He had spent decades building its commercial property portfolio, expanding into new markets, and forming the business relationships that made the Sinclair name so influential.

Sean had joined the company years later.

Charlotte's father had practically raised him after Sean's own father died. He had welcomed Sean, his mother, and his siblings into his home, paid for his education, and given him opportunities that helped him rise through the company. Sean was intelligent and ambitious, and her father had believed he would make a capable executive.

He had eventually appointed him chief executive.

But trusting Sean to run the company had never meant giving him ownership of everything her father had built.

When her father died, his shares were divided between Charlotte and Olivia. Charlotte retained her stake and her seat on the board, while Olivia showed little interest in the business. She had always preferred the social side of their family's wealth and had no desire to attend meetings or concern herself with company reports.

Within months of their father's death, Olivia sold her shares to Sean.

She claimed she wanted to simplify her life and avoid the burden of business responsibilities. Sean had offered her an attractive price, and she had accepted without much hesitation.

Charlotte had never understood how Olivia could part with something their father had worked so hard to build, but it had been her decision to make.

The sale had strengthened Sean's position as a shareholder, giving him greater influence over the company. It had not, however, made him its sole owner. Other investors still held substantial interests, and Charlotte's own shareholding remained significant enough to give her a voice in major decisions.

She was also still a member of the board.

For five months, she had allowed herself to withdraw from the responsibilities attached to that position. Now, she was ready to return.

Not for Sean. Not to prove anything to Olivia. And certainly not because she wanted to spend her days fighting with either of them.

Her father had left her more than a surname and a house full of memories. She had no intention of abandoning everything he had worked for simply because the people around her had made her feel unwanted.

Charlotte picked up her handbag and checked her phone. There were several messages from the company secretary about the morning's meeting, along with two missed calls from her mother.

She ignored the calls for the moment.

She had barely stepped out of her bedroom when another round of shouting drifted up from the grounds.

Charlotte closed her eyes.

"Of course."

The wedding preparations had apparently started earlier than the staff's usual working hours, and the noise was only getting worse. She could hear someone arguing about the placement of the floral arrangements, followed by another voice insisting that the bride had specifically requested a different design.

The bride.

Olivia.

Charlotte continued down the staircase, determined not to let her sister ruin her morning before it had properly begun.

She was halfway through the entrance hall when her phone rang again. This time, her mother's name appeared on the screen.

Charlotte answered reluctantly. "Good morning, Mom."

"Where are you?"

"Coming downstairs. Why?"

"I've been calling you. Come to the main house before you leave."

Charlotte glanced at the time. "I'm going to work."

"This won't take long."

That was what her mother always said before asking Charlotte to do something she had no intention of agreeing to.

"What is it about?"

"It's about the wedding, Charlotte. Olivia needs to discuss something with you."

Charlotte stopped at the foot of the stairs.

"Why does Olivia need to discuss anything with me?"

"Please don't start. Just come over."

The call ended before Charlotte could respond.

She stared at her phone for a moment, then slipped it into her handbag.

She could have ignored the summons. In fact, that was exactly what she wanted to do. But if Olivia had decided to involve her in the wedding preparations, Charlotte preferred to hear the request herself rather than have her mother spend the rest of the day chasing her.

Besides, she was no longer the woman who agreed to everything simply to keep the peace.

If Olivia wanted something from her, she would have to ask for it properly.

And Charlotte was perfectly capable of saying no.