The Man I Married Twice

A year earlier. "You better be there by three." My father's voice cut through the phone so sharply that two assistants across the boutique looked up. "I know," I said quietly. "This isn't optional, Melissa." "When has it ever been?" There was a pause on the line. I could almost hear him rubbing his forehead the way he did whenever the company's problems started piling up. "If the Kingsleys walk away," he said, lowering his voice, "Hartwood Global won't survive the quarter." I closed my eyes briefly. "I'll be there." "Good. And Melissa-" "Yes?" "Just... cooperate today." The call ended. That word lingered in my head. Cooperate. I slipped my phone into my bag and glanced at my reflection again. For a brief second, my fingers brushed against the ring on my hand. A small smile almost formed. Daniel's voice echoed faintly in my head- "I know the timing isn't perfect... but I don't want to wait anymore." I swallowed the memory down. Not now. "More blush," my manager said behind me. The makeup artist immediately leaned in. "You're going to blind the camera if you keep frowning," she joked. "I'm not frowning." "You absolutely are." Under the bright studio lights, my skin glowed against the emerald silk gown hugging my waist. The fabric shimmered every time I moved. For a second, I almost forgot about collapsing companies and emergency meetings. "Melissa," the photographer called. "Full turn." I stepped onto the platform and rotated slowly. "Perfect," he muttered. My phone buzzed again. My manager groaned from the corner. "Please tell me you're not answering that." "I have to." "How many shots do we have left?" I signaled the photographer. He grimaced. "At least twenty." "And Jessica's book launch," my manager reminded me, tapping the planner on the wall. "You promised to be there. I sighed. Jessica had been planning that launch for months. She'd probably already saved me a seat in the front row. But right now my father's company was hanging by a thread. "Tell her I'll make it up to her," I said, already stepping down from the set. "Melissa-" my manager called. "I really have to go." Inside the dressing room, I fought with the ribbon ties at the back of the corset. "Who invented this torture device?" I muttered. The bow refused to loosen. For a second, I considered ripping the dress open. But this was a D'Oleur Motier original. Probably worth more than my car. When the dress finally slid off, I felt like I could breathe again. My keys were sitting still on the sofa, I grabbed my bag and rushed out the door. The drive to Kingsley Manor took about twenty minutes. It was long enough for my mind to start spiraling. Kingsley Holdings didn't normally summon people to their house for business meetings. They had entire skyscrapers for that. When the iron gates of Kingsley Manor opened, I could swear that I had reached the gates of heaven. The gates looked like something carved out of a dream. It was adorned with the most beautiful flowers I have ever laid my eyes on. The place looked less like a home and more like a private kingdom. Tall stone walls. Endless gardens. Security cameras everywhere. The car stopped in front of the entrance. A staff member opened my door immediately. "Ms. Hartwood," he bowed politely. "They're waiting for you." Inside, the manor was impossibly quiet. It felt old-fashioned in its bones: high ceilings with intricate crown moldings, heavy oak doors. The marble floors gleamed, warmed subtly beneath my heels. I barely had time to admire any of it before someone escorted me into a large sitting room. That's when I realized that something was wrong. This wasn't just a normal meeting. My parents were already there. So was little sister, Diana. She looked like she had just seen a ghost. And across the room sat Jacob Kingsley and his wife Margaret. The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken tension. "Melissa," my father said quickly. "You made it." "Of course I did. What's going on?"No one answered immediately. Jacob Kingsley folded his hands calmly. "You must be Melissa Hartwood." "I am." His eyes studied me briefly. Then he nodded once. "Your father speaks highly of you." My father forced a laugh that sounded painfully fake. The conversation started with the usual corporate discussions. Investments, market stability... But halfway through, Jacob Kingsley brought up something that made the entire room go quiet. "Kingsley Holdings is prepared to secure Hartwood Global's future." My father leaned forward immediately. "That's excellent news." Jacob continued calmly. "However, we prefer long-term partnerships to be secured through family alliances." I frowned. Family alliances? Margaret Kingsley spoke next, her voice smooth and measured. "Our son will be getting married soon." My brain lagged for a moment, "Oh. Congratulations." I laughed softly but no one laughed with me. The silence was choking. Something in the room shifted. A strange awareness crept into my chest. I didn't know why-but suddenly, I was thinking about the man I had seen once or twice in business magazines. Ethan Kingsley. The charming one. The one everyone talked about. It made sense, didn't it? He handled the public. The deals. The appearances. Of course it would be him. Jacob's eyes moved between Diana and me, thoughtful. Then he spoke. "We would like the bride to come from the Hartwood family." A chill slowly spread through my stomach. Beside me, Diana's fingers curled tightly around the edge of her chair. Her face had gone pale. For a moment, no one spoke. My father cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "We are honored by the proposal." Wait. What? I turned toward him. "You're not serious." But he avoided my eyes. Margaret Kingsley asked calmly, "Which daughter will accept the honor?" Everyone looked at Diana. Diana looked like she might faint. Then my mother spoke. "Our eldest daughter will fulfill the role." The room tilted slightly. I stared at her. "Mom!" She met my eyes calmly. "Please give us a minute", she dragged me out of the room. "You are the eldest." A laugh escaped me before I could stop it. "Since when?" Of course. I was the eldest. But I was also the adopted one. Diana was their real daughter. "Melissa," my father said quietly, "this alliance will save the company." "I can't," I said, more firmly. My father frowned. "Melissa-" "I'm already engaged."