My Stepmother Stole My Dream Halloween Gown—But She Had No Idea Who She Was Stealing From

The following morning, I found my dream gown hanging in Brielle's bedroom.

She had already started decorating the room around it.

A professional stylist was arranging turquoise accessories on the bed, while another woman carefully steamed the skirt.

Brielle stood in front of the mirror wearing the gown's bodice.

She had removed the original straps and replaced them with diamond chains.

My stomach tightened.

Those straps had been designed to support the enormous wings without damaging the delicate silk.

“Stop,” I said.

Brielle turned.

“Oh, good morning, Cinderella.””

I walked toward the gown.

“What have you done?””

She looked down at the bodice.

“Improved it.””

“You've removed the original fastenings.””

“They looked cheap.””

“They were custom-made.””

Brielle shrugged.

“Then the designer should have made them better.””

I looked at the stylist.

“Please don't touch the embroidery.””

The woman glanced nervously at Brielle.

“I'm sorry, miss. Your sister asked me to make some adjustments.””

Brielle smiled.

“I'm paying her.””

“With whose money?”” I asked.

Her smile vanished.

“That's none of your business.””

“It is when you're altering something that belongs to me.””

Brielle picked up a jeweled comb and began arranging her hair.

“Still going on about that?””

I held up my phone.

“I have the original purchase agreement, the design contract, and the delivery documents. Every piece of this gown is registered under my name.””

She laughed.

“You think paperwork scares me?””

“No. I think you should read it.””

Vanessa appeared in the doorway.

“What's all this noise?””

“Camille is threatening me,” Brielle complained.

Vanessa looked at me.

“Again?””

I almost smiled.

“Good morning to you too.””

Vanessa walked inside and examined the gown.

“I see you've made some lovely changes, sweetheart.””

Brielle beamed.

“Don't you think the diamonds make it more expensive?””

“Much more elegant.””

I looked at the bodice.

“You've damaged the original design.””

Vanessa sighed.

“Camille, must you turn everything into a competition?””

“You shoved me into a dressing table yesterday so she could steal my gown.””

Vanessa's face changed.

She glanced at the stylist.

“Would you mind giving us a moment?””

The woman immediately gathered her tools and left.

Vanessa closed the door.

Then she turned to me.

“Let's establish something. Brielle is going to the gala. You are not.””

I raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?””

“Because you haven't been invited.””

I reached into my pocket and touched the black envelope.

I had no intention of showing it to her.

Not yet.

“Actually, I have.””

Vanessa laughed.

“Don't be ridiculous.””

“I received an invitation.””

“From whom? Your imaginary friends?””

“Eleanor Whitmore.””

For a second, Vanessa stopped smiling.

Then she shook her head.

“Eleanor Whitmore doesn't know you.””

I looked directly at her.

“You'd be surprised.””

Brielle stepped between us.

“Mother, please. I don't want her coming.””

“Neither do I,” Vanessa replied.

Brielle turned to me.

“Listen carefully. The gala is an important evening for me. Mr.

Harrington will be there. His family owns half the properties in this city, and his father is considering a partnership with Dad's old company.””

“Your father's old company?””

She hesitated.

Vanessa quickly interrupted.

“Brielle means the family business.””

I looked at them.

My father's company had been dissolved after his death.

Vanessa had sold its remaining assets and told everyone that the money had been used to settle debts.

But there was something she had never understood.

My father had left more than a company.

He had left a controlling trust.

And I was its sole beneficiary.

I hadn't told Vanessa because I wanted to know how she would behave when she believed I had nothing.

Now I had my answer.

Brielle crossed her arms.

“Are you listening?””

“Yes.””

“Then stay away from the gala.””

I tilted my head.

“Why are you so worried about me attending?””

“Because you embarrass us.””

Vanessa nodded.

“Your sister is right. You don't understand how these events work. There are expectations.

Dress codes. Social etiquette.””

I looked at the gown.

“Apparently, stealing another woman's dress is acceptable etiquette now.””

Brielle grabbed a cushion and threw it at me.

“Get out!””

I caught it.

“Gladly.””

As I reached the door, Vanessa called after me.

“One more thing, Camille.””

I turned.

“The trust account for your father's estate is being reviewed. You may receive some paperwork soon. Don't sign anything without speaking to me.””

I stared at her.

“What paperwork?””

“Administrative matters.””

“What kind of administrative matters?””

Vanessa smiled.

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with.””

That was interesting.

Very interesting.

I left without another word.

Downstairs, the house smelled of fresh coffee and expensive flowers.

I walked through the marble foyer and found my father's old study.

The door was locked.

It had been locked since his funeral.

Vanessa had claimed the room contained sensitive financial documents and that nobody was allowed inside.

But I still had my father's brass key.

I had kept it on a chain around my neck for six years.

The lock turned with a soft click.

Inside, dust covered the desk.

The room looked exactly as it had the day my father died.

His reading glasses were still beside the telephone.

A photograph of us stood near the window.

I was seventeen in the picture, wearing an oversized sweater and laughing while my father pretended to conduct an imaginary orchestra.

I picked it up.

“Miss you, Dad,” I whispered.

Then I noticed the bottom drawer of the desk was slightly open.

Inside was a folder labeled:

*BENNETT FAMILY TRUST — CONFIDENTIAL.*

My heart began beating faster.

I opened it.

The first document was a copy of the trust agreement.

My name appeared on every important page.

The second document was a letter from my father's attorney.

It was dated three days before his death.

Camille, if you're reading this, it means you are finally old enough to understand why I kept certain things from you.

I sat down.

The letter continued.

Your stepmother has never been authorized to manage your inheritance. She has temporary access to household funds, but the controlling assets belong to you.

I stopped breathing.

There was more.

I established a separate holding company for the family estate. Its controlling shares will transfer to you on your twenty-fifth birthday. Until then, an independent trustee will oversee all major transactions.

I checked the date.

My twenty-fifth birthday was six weeks away.

I turned the page.

There was a list of properties, investments, and business interests.

The final entry made my hands tremble.

*Bennett Holdings — controlling ownership, 68 percent.*

My father had not left me a ruined business.

He had left me the company.

A knock sounded behind me.

I quickly closed the folder.

“Camille?””

It was our housekeeper, Mrs. Evelyn Parker.

I slipped the papers into my bag.

“Come in.””

She entered and looked at the open drawer.

Her eyes widened.

“You found it.””

I stared at her.

“You knew?””

Evelyn closed the door.

“Your father asked me to make sure you eventually found that folder.””

“Why didn't you tell me?””

“Because your stepmother was watching everyone. She told the staff that any discussion of your father's business would result in immediate dismissal.””

I felt cold.

“What has Vanessa been doing with the estate?””

Evelyn hesitated.

Then she reached into her apron pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.

“I found this in the office printer last week.””

I unfolded it.

It was a draft request for a transfer of shares.

The recipient was Brielle Bennett.

The amount was listed as 68 percent.

My father's controlling interest.

My blood ran cold.

“Did Vanessa sign this?””

Evelyn nodded.

“She has been telling people that the company will eventually belong to Brielle.””

“But she can't transfer my shares.””

“I know.””

I looked at the document again.

There was a date beside the transfer request.

The day after the Halloween gala.

I folded the paper carefully.

“Evelyn, I need you to do something for me.””

“Anything, sweetheart.””

“Find every document related to the estate. Every bank statement, every property record, every transaction since my father's death.””

Her eyes filled with concern.

“Are you going to confront her?””

I shook my head.

“Not yet.””

I slipped the trust agreement into my bag.

“First, I want to know how much she thinks she can get away with.””

My phone buzzed.

A message from Adrian.

Eleanor has confirmed your appearance. The committee has approved a special announcement. There's one complication.

I typed back.

What complication?

His reply arrived immediately.

The Harrington family has requested a private meeting with Asteria. They want to negotiate a sponsorship partnership.

I stared at the message.

The Harrington family.

The same family Brielle had been talking about all morning.

I typed:

Tell them I'll meet them at the gala.

Then another message appeared.

This one was from an unknown number.

Miss Bennett, this is Daniel Harrington. I believe we need to discuss your stepsister.

I stared at the screen.

A second message followed.

She has been telling everyone she is the rightful owner of your Halloween gown. Unfortunately, she has also made a promise to my father that could put your entire family in serious trouble.