The Wrong Mercer Bride

By sunrise, reporters had surrounded the Mercer residence.

Every news channel repeated the same story: Caelan Voss had stolen his cousin’s intended bride while abandoning a secret engagement to Selene Mercer.

None of it was true.

At least, not in the first life I remembered.

Father paced his study while his legal team examined the statement released by Octavian Voss. According to the document, our families had discussed a future union between Caelan and a Mercer daughter nearly fifteen years earlier.

Selene’s name appeared in a handwritten amendment.

“I never signed this,” Father said.

He threw the copy onto his desk.

I examined the signature. It resembled his, but the final stroke curved in the wrong direction.

“It’s forged.”

“Proving that will take time,” our lawyer replied. “Until then, the public will believe Elara displaced Selene.”

Father’s face tightened. “Why would Octavian Voss do this?”

“Because he doesn’t want Caelan to marry me,” I said.

Caelan stood near the window, speaking quietly into his phone. Since arriving, he had barely acknowledged the reporters or the accusations against him.

When he ended the call, I faced him.

“Did your grandfather arrange an engagement to Selene?”

“He discussed several possible alliances while I was a teenager. I rejected all of them.”

“Was Selene among them?”

“Her name was never mentioned.”

Father crossed his arms. “Then Octavian fabricated the agreement.”

“Yes.”

“You don’t sound surprised.”

Caelan slipped his phone into his coat. “My grandfather does not tolerate decisions he cannot control.”

The door opened, and Selene entered with tears streaming down her face.

“Elara, how could you?”

Behind her came two reporters before security stopped them at the entrance. Their cameras had already captured her performance.

Father ordered the door closed.

Selene looked at Caelan as if they shared some tragic history. “You could have told me you didn’t want the arrangement.”

“We had no arrangement,” he said.

She flinched convincingly.

I had watched Selene perform for years without recognising it. She knew how to make silence resemble dignity and lies resemble pain.

“Elara knew,” she whispered. “That’s why she chose you.”

Father stared at her. “Are you accusing my daughter of stealing your fiancé?”

“I don’t want to accuse anyone. I only want the truth.”

“The truth is that Caelan and I signed a contract last night,” I said. “You were never part of it.”

Her eyes flashed before filling with fresh tears.

“Everything has always belonged to you. Your father’s name, the Mercer fortune, Lucien’s love—and now the man promised to me.”

“Lucien’s love?”

She realised her mistake.

Father’s attention sharpened.

Selene lowered her gaze. “I meant everyone knew how much he loved Elara.”

I walked toward her. “Were you with Lucien after he left the ballroom yesterday?”

“No.”

The answer came too quickly.

“In that case, you won’t mind showing Father the messages on your phone.”

Her hand tightened around the device. “You have no right.”

“And you have no right to enter this house with reporters and accuse me of stealing something that was never yours.”

“I brought no one.”

“Yet they arrived directly behind you.”

Caelan stepped between us, his gaze fixed on Selene’s phone.

“Give it to her.”

Selene’s face paled. “You can’t order me around.”

“No,” he said. “But I can release the security footage showing you meeting Lucien at the Vale Hotel last night.”

My pulse jumped.

Selene looked at him in horror.

Caelan continued. “You arrived at 10:14 p.m. and left at 1:06 a.m. Would you like me to provide the room number?”

Father gripped the edge of his desk.

“Selene?”

She looked desperately at me. “Lucien was devastated. I went there because I was worried he might hurt himself.”

I almost admired the speed of the lie.

“Then show us the messages,” I said.

Instead, she stepped back.

“This family has already decided I’m guilty.”

She fled the study before Father could stop her.

Caelan’s security team escorted the reporters away, but the damage had been done. By noon, public sympathy had turned toward Selene. Commentators called me selfish, unstable, and cruel.

I had expected humiliation to weaken me.

Instead, it clarified what I needed to do.

Lucien and Selene were coordinating their attack sooner than they had in my first life. They believed scandal would force me back into Lucien’s arms or destroy the Mercer reputation.

I would give them neither victory.

The civil ceremony took place that afternoon in the Mercer library. Father stood beside me. Helena and my lawyer served as witnesses.

Caelan placed a plain platinum band on my finger.

When it was my turn, I slid a matching ring onto his.

“You may kiss the bride,” the officiant said.

I froze.

The contract required public affection, but this ceremony was private.

Caelan could have stepped away.

Instead, he placed one hand against my waist and lowered his mouth to mine.

The kiss was brief, yet it erased every sound in the room.

When he withdrew, his eyes held an emotion I could not identify.

“Smile,” he murmured. “There’s a camera outside the window.”

I did.

By evening, our wedding photograph had replaced Selene’s interview as the leading story.

I moved into the Voss estate before nightfall.

As my luggage was carried upstairs, a message arrived from an unknown number.

YOU MARRIED THE WRONG MAN.

A second message followed with a photograph of a bank document.

It showed an authorised transfer of five million dollars from a Mercer account.

The approval bore my father’s signature.

The money was scheduled to move at midnight—to a company secretly controlled by Lucien.