My Best Friend Stole My Fiancé and My Beauty Empire

I stared at the confirmation text from my event coordinator. The engagement party was officially a corporate launch event. But a pathetic, nagging sliver of doubt still gnawed at my chest. I needed to hear Carter say it. I needed him to admit he had thrown seven years away.

I dialed his private line.

"He's in the shower," Serena’s voice purred through the speaker.

"Put him on."

"You really don't get it, do you, Iris?" Serena laughed, a grating sound that scraped against my eardrums. "Look around that penthouse. The designer clothes, the charity galas. You never belonged in this world. You were just keeping the seat warm."

"LUMERIA pays for my clothes," I shot back.

"Oh, sweetie. You think you built that? You're a pawn. Enjoy the quiet. It's going to get very loud soon."

The line went dead.

I dropped the phone onto the sofa. My hands didn't shake. I didn't shed a single tear. Instead, a hollow numbness settled in my chest, freezing out the panic.

The loud part Serena promised arrived the very next morning.

I didn't even have to search for the news. My feed shoved it in my face the second I unlocked my screen.

*VOSS EMPIRE HEIR ENGAGED. CARTER VOSS TO WED MARKETING GURU SERENA IN INTIMATE CEREMONY NEXT MONTH.*

A high-resolution photo filled the screen. Carter held Serena’s waist outside a London restaurant. A massive emerald-cut diamond sparkled on her finger. It was the exact ring design Carter and I had looked at in a private jeweler's suite three months ago.

He hadn't been shopping for me.

My phone buzzed relentlessly. Texts from board members, friends, and PR reps flooded my notifications. I ignored every single one. I walked into the master bedroom, pulled two suitcases from the closet, and began tossing my clothes inside.

I was zipping up the second bag on the third morning when the front door clicked open.

Heavy footsteps echoed in the foyer.

Carter walked into the living room. He didn't look guilty. He didn't look remorseful. He looked entirely inconvenienced.

Serena trailed right behind him, wearing my favorite cashmere coat.

"What is she doing here?" I asked, releasing my grip on the suitcase handle.

"Moving in," Carter said. He walked to the kitchen island and poured a glass of sparkling water. "Serena is pregnant. She needs a stable environment."

Pregnant.

The word hit my ribs like a sledgehammer.

I let out a harsh, abrupt laugh. The sound startled even me. "You're moving your pregnant mistress into the apartment we shared for seven years?"

"Watch your tone, Iris," Carter warned, narrowing his eyes. "This is my property."

Serena stepped forward, resting a hand on her perfectly flat stomach. "Don't be bitter, Iris. We didn't plan this. It just happened. Carter wants his heir raised in the main residence."

"You disgust me," I said, looking between them. "Both of you."

"Oh, stop playing the victim," Serena snapped. She walked over to the coffee table and picked up a silver framed photo of Carter and me. She tossed it into the trash bin. "You got a free ride for years. You should be thanking us."

"Thanking you?" My voice stayed dangerously low. I refused to scream. "I built a company while you two snuck around. I covered for you, Carter. I kept your image clean when your board wanted to oust you."

Carter set his glass down on the marble counter. "You built a company with my money. Money I only provided because Serena asked me to."

I froze. "What?"

"Did you really think I cared about a startup cosmetics brand?" Carter crossed his arms, his tailored suit shifting with the movement. "Serena wanted to play CEO. I funded LUMERIA to keep her happy."

Serena smirked, trailing a manicured finger along the granite edge of the island. "And now, I'm done playing. I'm pulling my equity, Iris. I'm launching my own brand. *Aura Beauty*."

"You can't do that," I said, stepping toward the kitchen. "The winter palette launches in two weeks. We have contracts. We have suppliers."

"I can do whatever I want," Serena countered. "Carter's lawyers are already drafting the separation papers. You get to keep the sinking ship. I'm taking the network, the suppliers, and the funding."

"You're trying to bankrupt me," I stated.

Carter didn't even flinch. "It's just business, Iris. You'll land on your feet. You always were stubborn."

"Stubborn won't pay off a two-million-dollar production debt," I said, my gaze locked on his. "If you pull the funding now, LUMERIA goes under."

"Then let it go under," Carter replied. "I'll write you a severance check. Buy a nice condo in the suburbs. Move on."

They expected tears. They expected me to beg for my company, to plead for the life I had known for the past seven years.

Instead, I turned around and grabbed my suitcase.

"You're right, Carter," I said, walking toward the door. "I am stubborn."

"Leave the keys on the console," he muttered, already checking his phone, dismissing me entirely.

I tossed the silver keys onto the glass table. They landed with a sharp clatter.

"Good luck with the new brand, Serena," I said, pausing at the threshold. "You're going to need it."

"I have everything I need," she called back, leaning against Carter's shoulder.

I walked out into the hallway and let the heavy oak door shut behind me.

The silence of the corridor pressed against my ears. My chest tightened, the sheer magnitude of the betrayal finally sinking its claws into my lungs. My fiancé. My best friend. My company. Erased in three days.

They thought they had gutted me. They thought LUMERIA would fold without Carter's money and Serena's face.

I pulled out my phone and dialed my lead chemist.

The line rang twice before he answered. "Iris? Are you okay? The news—"

"I'm fine, David," I interrupted, marching toward the elevator. "Double the production order on the winter palette. We're moving the launch up to next week."

"Next week?" David’s voice pitched up in panic. "Without Serena's PR strategy? We don't have the budget for a rushed production!"

"I'll get the budget," I said, pressing the lobby button. "Just make the product."

"Iris, Carter Voss's office just sent a notice. They're freezing our accounts."

"Let them. I'll secure new funding by tomorrow morning."

"From who?"

"I'll handle it." I ended the call as the metal doors slid shut.

I needed an investor. Someone bigger than Carter Voss. Someone with enough capital and influence to make Carter’s board sweat.

I scrolled through my contact list, bypassing the safe options, the small-time venture capitalists. My thumb hovered over a name I hadn't spoken aloud in years. A man who hated Carter Voss just as much as I did right now.

I tapped the screen. The phone began to ring.