The Man I Married Twice

CHAPTER 9 — WELCOME TO THE KINGSLEYS

By the time I got home, everything had already exploded.

Phones were ringing. The staff were whispering. My mother was pacing the length of the living room, her heels clicking sharply against the marble floor like a ticking clock.

“Turn it off,” she snapped at no one in particular. “Turn everything off!”

“It’s already everywhere, ma’am,” one of the assistants said carefully, holding up a tablet. “LoversDaily, TrendSphere, even international blogs—”

“I said turn it off!”

I stood near the doorway, still in my clothes from Jessica’s, my fingers cold despite the warmth inside the house.

My father walked in moments later, loosening his tie, his expression tight. “What exactly happened?” My mother turned to him immediately. “That actress. That Serena girl. She went live and—”

“I know who Serena Vaughn is,” he cut in sharply. “I’m asking what we’re doing about it.”

I walked in then all eyes turned to me as if I caused this. “I didn’t do anything,” I said quietly. My father exhaled slowly, pressing his fingers to his temple. “It doesn’t matter what you did. It matters what people believe.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Fair?” He let out a dry laugh. “Melissa, this is business. Fair doesn’t exist here.”

Before I could respond, his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen and his expression changed. “...Kingsley,” he muttered. He adjusted his tie and straightened his back as if he were meeting with them physically. The room went still then he answered immediately. “Mrs. Kingsley.”

There was a pause.

“Yes… yes, we’ve seen it.”

Another pause. Longer this time. Then—“Of course. We’ll be there.” He ended the call. My mother stepped closer. “What did she say?” My father looked at me. “They’ve invited us to dinner.”

“Dinner?” I echoed.

“Tonight.”

A sickening drop settled deep inside me.

The air was colder by the time we arrived. Winter was settling in quietly, wrapping the estate in a chill that crept beneath skin and silk alike. My stomach twisted as the car slowed down, but I managed to keep a straight face. “This is not the night to look nervous”, I muttered underneath my breath.

Beside me, my mother noticed that I was struggling so she placed her hand on mine. When I looked at her, she raised her chin slightly and exaggerated a slow inhale then let out a deep breath. I did the same.

Looking through the window, I could hear the steady splash of the fountain. The evening sun gleamed through, casting the manor in a warm glow. But nothing about this felt warm.

The staff moved through the property with precision. All of them were smartly dressed. Each uniform was tailored and adorned with a subtle Kingsley crest pinned near the lapel. There was respect in their posture. Many of them looked like they had served the family long enough to become part of its history.

The entrance doors opened before we could even reach for the handle. “Mr. and Mrs. Hartwood,” the butler, Mr. Whitmore announced in a practiced tone. “Welcome.” he bowed slightly.

We were led down the long corridor again, past the oil paintings and the silent eyes of past Kingsleys watching from their frames.

Edward Kingsley’s portrait loomed at the end. “Control the source. Control the route. Control the narrative.” The words echoed in my mind. Tonight, I realized something. I was the narrative. And I was already losing control of it.

The doors to the living room opened. Everything looked the same—dim lighting, soft music, fresh flowers—but the atmosphere had shifted. It wasn’t welcoming anymore. It was… waiting.

Mrs. Margaret Kingsley sat exactly where she had before.

She didn’t stand when we entered. Audrey glanced up briefly, her lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Right on time,” she said lightly, her tone carrying just enough edge to make it clear we weren’t welcome.

My father stepped forward smoothly. “Mrs. Kingsley, thank you for having us again on such short notice.” Margaret nodded, her gaze slid past him to me. “Melissa,” she said, her voice calm. “You’ve had quite the evening.”

My throat tightened. “It seems so.” Then she smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Come,” she said, finally rising. “Let’s not pretend we don’t know why we’re here.” That sent a quiet ripple through the room.

We took our seats. The music had stopped, there were no distractions. Just silence stretching thin between us.

Margaret folded her hands neatly on the table. “I assume you’ve all seen the… performance.” My mother let out a small, controlled laugh. “It’s unfortunate. But I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be managed.”

“Managed?” Audrey echoed, tilting her head. “That’s one word for it.” I felt her eyes on me. Audrey wasn't at the meeting the first time but now her presence seems to be indispensable.

“Public opinion is fragile,” Margaret continued smoothly. “Especially when it concerns the Kingsley name.” My father nodded. “We understand.”

“Do you?” Audrey cut in. “Because right now, your daughter is trending as a gold-digger.”

The word landed like a slap. My fingers curled under the table. “I didn’t—” I started.

Margaret raised a hand. I went silent.

“Intentions are irrelevant,” she said calmly. “Perception is everything.” Her gaze held mine. “Can you handle that, Melissa?” Something in her tone made it clear— This wasn't a concern. It was a test.

“Yes.” I swallowed. Then she leaned back slightly. “Good.”

Footsteps echoed from the staircase. All heads turned.

Jacob Kingsley descended first, his presence steady as ever. Behind him was Liam. My breath caught before I could stop it. He looked exactly as composed as before. Impeccable. Untouched by the chaos unfolding outside these walls. But his eyes—They found mine instantly. And held. Audrey slipped her arm through his as they reached the last step, almost possessively. Ethan followed behind them, quieter tonight, his expression harder to read.

Jacob cleared his throat. “I assume we’re all aware of the situation.”

“Yes,” Margaret replied. “And we’re addressing it.” Liam finally spoke. “Are we?” His voice was too calm. Margaret’s gaze flicked to him. “We don’t allow scandals to define this family.”

Liam’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “And what exactly are we calling this?” Audrey smiled faintly. “A complication.” Ethan let out a soft, almost amused breath. I felt it then. The shift. This wasn’t just about Serena anymore. This was something else. Liam stepped forward slightly. “Then let’s be clear.”

His voice sharpened just enough. “She’s not the problem.” he gestured towards me.

Everyone ceased their comments. Margaret’s expression didn’t change but something in her eyes hardened.

“Isn’t she?” Audrey murmured. Liam didn’t respond. But he didn’t look away from me either. And for the first time since this night began I realized something terrifying. I wasn’t just being eva

luated by the Kingsley family.

They were already deciding whether I was worth keeping.