My bedroom 21

Posted by admin, ? Views, Released on June 2, 2026

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Don’t come to my wedding

Katia’s POV

Monday mornings were usually my favorite. There was something clean about them, fresh calendars, quiet hallways, and the sense that the world hadn’t yet had time to complicate itself. I liked arriving early and liked the hum of the building before it filled with voices and demands. I* Technologies felt most like

mine in those hours.

Sam was already seated across from me, tablet open, stylus tapping lightly as she scrolled through

projections.

“If we stagger the rollout,” she said, “WEG gets their Al logistics upgrade in phases. Hotels first, then resorts, then sports venues. It reduces disruption and gives us leverage if they try to renegotiate.”

I nodded, eyes on the screen in front of me. “And it gives us time to test live environments without burning goodwill.”

“Exactly.”

We were in sync like that; years of building from nothing had done that to us. Sam didn’t need to overexplain, and I didn’t need to micromanage. Trust was a currency we’d earned the hard way.

She glanced up. “Are you okay? You’ve been quiet since the engagement party.”

“I’m fine,” I said automatically.

She didn’t call me out on the lie. She just nodded and went back to the numbers.

My phone buzzed, and I ignored it; then it buzzed again.

Sam looked up this time. “You want to take that?”

I sighed and reached for the phone. Delia’s name glowed on the screen.

I answered, “Delia.”

“I’m outside,” she said without preamble.

I blinked. “Outside where?”

“Your building. I* Technologies. Can we talk?”

I closed my eyes briefly. For a split second, I considered telling her I was busy, that I had meetings stacked until evening, that this wasn’t a good time. All of that was true.

But avoiding things had never made them go away.

“Give me five minutes,” I said. “We’ll grab lunch.”

Sam arched a brow when I hung up.

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to my wedding

“She’s here?”

“Unfortunately.”

“You want me to stay?”

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“No,” I said, standing. “Let’s pause the WEG strategy. I’ll deal with this, and we’ll pick it up after.”

I rode the elevator down alone, the familiar tension settling between my shoulders. When the doors opened, Delia was standing near the reception desk, perfectly put together as always in a tailored blazer, soft makeup, and eyes sharp with something I couldn’t quite place.

Concern? Suspicion? Or maybe possession?

“Hey,” she said, forcing a smile.

“Hey,” I replied evenly. “Let’s eat.”

We walked to a nearby restaurant, quiet, upscale, and on neutral ground. A place I’d been a hundred times with clients and never once with family. The hostess seated us near the window, sunlight pouring in, bright and unforgiving.

I ordered without looking at the menu. Delia followed suit, copying my choice like she always used to

when we were younger.

Old habits.

While we waited, she spoke. “You seem to know a lot about the Windsors,” she said finally.

I took a sip of water. “Do I?”

She nodded. “At the engagement party. You weren’t surprised by anything.”

I shrugged. “I’m rarely surprised.”

She frowned. “How do you know Abigail?”

“Harvard,” I said calmly. “I thought you heard that at your engagement party.”

Her lips pressed together. The food arrived, momentarily saving her from responding. We ate for a few minutes in silence, cutlery clinking softly against porcelain.

“You seem close to them,” she tried again.

“No,” I said. “Just Abigail. And she never told me she was a Windsor. I was just as surprised to see her there.”

Delia chewed slowly, eyes studying my face like she was searching for cracks.

“And Julian?” she asked.

That did it. I set my fork down carefully. My knife followed. I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms,

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my wedding

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meeting her gaze head–on.

“What’s this about?” I asked.

She hesitated. Just a beat too long. “He was talking to you throughout the engagement party,” she said. ” He barely spoke to me.”

“And whose problem is that?” I asked, my voice cool.

Her eyes widened slightly. “Katia-”

“You’re engaged to him,” I continued. “If he chose to talk to someone else, that’s between the two of you.”

“I’m not saying it’s your fault,” she said quickly. “I’m just saying you should’ve given me a chance to get to know my fiancé. You were glued to him.”

I laughed. “Did your fiancé tell you I asked him to talk to me?” I asked.

“No,” she admitted.

I leaned forward then, lowering my voice, every word deliberate. “Listen carefully. You came to my office because you think your fiancé and I have a thing?”

She didn’t answer, and that was answer enough.

“I never asked your man to come to me,” I said. “And I will not lose the opportunity of a lifetime because you’re insecure about where his eyes land.”

Her face flushed. “That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” I echoed. “Fair would’ve been you standing up for me six years ago. Fair would’ve been you questioning why I was thrown out instead of accepting my replacement role without hesitation. I really don’t care about your man, and what we have is just business, but that seems to bother you so much.”

She flinched.

“I work with WEG now,” I continued. “That means I will see Julian. Often. Professionally. You’re going to have to get over that.”

Her voice dropped. “So that’s it? You don’t care how this looks?”

“I care about my company,” I said, standing. “And my peace, not yours. I will not lose a deal because you feel it’s not proper; I have employees to pay, and I’m not going to satisfy your ego.”

She stared up at me, eyes glossy now. “You think you’re better than us.”

I smiled, but there was no warmth in it. “No. I think you’re toxic. And I don’t keep negative people in my circle.” Her breath caught. “From now on,” I added, “you and Mother stop coming to my office. Set appointments like everyone else. Or don’t come at all.”

She pushed her chair back abruptly. “Don’t come to my wedding.”

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“I wasn’t planning to,” I said evenly. “But congratulations in advance.”

I turned and walked out without looking back, the bell above the door chiming softly behind me.

Outside, the city moved on like nothing had happened. I took a deep breath, squared my shoulders, and headed back to work. Some bridges weren’t meant to be crossed twice.