The Girl in the Hoodie is Mine

Ella POV

"What do you mean you’re dying?" I demanded, rushing to my father’s side, my voice shaky despite my efforts to sound composed. I instinctively checked his pulse, his body temperature—anything that might confirm or contradict the bombshell he’d just dropped on me.

My father—the indomitable, unshakable, larger-than-life Kingsley—dying? It sounded impossible. He still looked as youthful and commanding as ever, with barely a hint of gray in his dark hair and a vitality that could outmatch men half his age.

He chuckled softly, a sound that normally soothed me but now only heightened my anxiety. "Calm down, Ella. I’m not dying tomorrow, if that’s what you’re worried about."

"Then what do you mean?" I snapped, guiding him to the couch. "This isn’t funny, Dad. If this is some manipulative ploy to get me back into your world—"

"It’s not a ploy," he interrupted, his tone serious now, though his smile lingered. "But your reaction is exactly like your mother’s."

The mention of my late mother stopped me in my tracks. It was rare for him to bring her up, and when he did, it was usually laced with affection and sadness.

"Dad," I whispered, feeling the tears prick at the edges of my vision. "Tell me you’re joking. You’re not serious, right? You’re the strongest man I know. You’re still running empires and making deals that leave the rest of the world in awe. You’re... you. You’re not allowed to get sick."

His smile faltered, and for the first time in my life, he looked his age—though still impossibly young for all he’d achieved. "I wish it were that simple, sweetheart. I’m not saying I’m on my deathbed, but my health hasn’t been good since..." He trailed off, but I didn’t need him to finish.

Guilt clawed at my chest. I knew what he was implying, and it stung. He wasn’t wrong; my departure hadn’t just been an act of rebellion—it had been a wound to our family.

He was good at this. He knew exactly how to push my buttons, and he was doing it now. I hated how effective it was.

I sighed, kneeling in front of him, my hands gripping his larger ones. "Daddy, you know I didn’t mean to hurt you. But you kept pushing me into a life I didn’t want. A life where I was supposed to play the doting wife while my so-called husband ran your empire. That’s not me. I want to run Kingsley Enterprises. I want to prove that I’m capable—not because of my name or status, but because I’ve earned it."

He looked at me for a long moment, his sharp blue eyes—the same as mine—searching for something. Then, a faint smile tugged at his lips, though it didn’t reach his eyes.

"Suppose," he said, his voice suddenly taking on the polished tone he used in boardrooms, "I offered you a compromise?" he continued, his tone shifting into the calm, calculated cadence of a man negotiating a high-stakes deal.

I arched a brow, recognizing the shift in his demeanor. This wasn’t my father speaking now; this was Kingsley, the business shark. He wasn’t just my dad—he was the man feared and respected across continents.

"I’m listening," I said cautiously, knowing that anything he offered would come with strings attached.

"I’ll leave you in charge of the Kingsley Empire," he said, his words measured and deliberate. "But on one condition."

My heart skipped a beat. This was it—the moment I’d been waiting for my entire life. The chance to step into his shoes and prove myself. But his tone warned me that whatever was coming next wouldn’t be simple.

"What’s the condition?" I asked, bracing myself.

He met my gaze, his eyes gleaming with the cunning of a master negotiator. "You marry the man of my choosing."

Of course.

I leaned back, letting out a humorless laugh. "Seriously? You couldn’t just make me climb Everest or solve world hunger? It has to be marriage?"

His expression didn’t waver. "Marriage is a partnership, Ella. It’s about building something greater than yourself. You want to run the empire? Then prove you can build alliances, trust, and stability."

"Seriously?" I said, my voice rising. "What happened to you believing in marrying for love?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "Ella, your status as my daughter makes you a target. There are plenty of people who would try to take advantage of you, to use you for their own gain. I want to ensure you’re protected, that you have someone by your side who can help you shoulder the burden when things get tough."

"And you think forcing me into an arranged marriage is the answer?"

"It’s not about forcing you, sweetheart. It’s about finding someone worthy of you. Someone who loves you and can stand by your side. And, of course..." His voice dropped slightly, a dangerous edge creeping into his tone. "If he doesn’t treat you right, he’ll have me to answer to."

I couldn’t help but laugh, despite the absurdity of the situation. "You and your threats, Dad."

He smiled, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from my face. "I only want what’s best for you."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "And you already have someone in mind, don’t you?"

He didn’t answer directly, but his silence was confirmation enough.

"Let me guess," I said, sarcasm dripping from my voice. "Some business prodigy or billionaire heir with perfect credentials and zero personality?"

He allowed himself a small smirk. "You might find him more interesting than you think."

I groaned, sinking back onto the couch. "This is absurd, Dad. You know I don’t need a husband to prove I can handle the empire."

"And yet, that’s my condition," he said, his tone final. "Take it or leave it."

I hated him in that moment—hated how he always managed to back me into a corner, forcing me to choose between what I wanted and what I believed in.

But deep down, I also knew this was his way of giving me what I wanted while still protecting the legacy he’d spent his life building.

I sighed heavily, running a hand through my hair. "Fine. I’ll think about it."

Marry someone of his choosing? Just to prove I could run the empire?

What fresh hell had I just agreed to consider?

Just then, there was a sharp knock on the door.

I stood up, grateful for the interruption. "I’ll get it."

But the second I opened the door, my heart sank.

Jason.

His expression was a mixture of relief and frustration, his eyes scanning me as if to make sure I was still in one piece. "Ella," he said breathlessly. "Are you okay? For a moment, I thought you—"

His words died in his throat as his gaze shifted past me to where my father was sitting on the couch, watching him with an amused expression.

"Mr. Kingsley," Jason said, his voice sheepish as he stepped inside. "I didn’t realize you were here."

My father smiled, though there was an unmistakable sharpness to it. "Jason," he said smoothly. "I was just wondering why my newly signed partner is knocking at my daughter’s apartment."

Jason froze, his usual confidence nowhere to be found.

Wait, what? I turned to Jason, my eyebrows shooting up. "My father is the multimillion-dollar deal you signed? The one you said you wanted to celebrate?"

Jason nodded, avoiding my gaze as he fidgeted with his jacket.

I turned back to my father, who was now looking at Jason with an expression that could only be described as predatory. He nudged his head slightly toward Jason, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

Oh no.

"That’s my condition," his eyes seemed to say.

I groaned inwardly. Of course. Of course, it had to be Jason.

Because if there was one thing my father loved more than winning, it was finding a way to tie everything together in a neat little package. And apparently, Jason was his perfect candidate.

"No, no! You can’t be serious!" I exclaimed, my voice rising as I turned to my father, disbelief etched on my face. Jason, standing awkwardly by the door, looked like he was trying to piece together what was going on, his brows furrowed in confusion.

My father leaned back on the couch, completely unbothered by my outburst. "I’m very serious, Ella," he replied smoothly, his tone calm but firm, the way it always was when he made a decision he didn’t intend to back down from.

"You don’t even know him!" I protested, gesturing toward Jason, who was now looking at me like I’d grown a second head.

"Actually," my father said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I do know him. We’ve met twice now, haven’t we, Jason?" He turned to Jason, who nodded slowly, still looking puzzled but clearly trying to stay composed under my father’s scrutinizing gaze.

"Yes," Jason said cautiously, "once when I was helping my father finalize a deal with you, and recently when we discussed the terms for the LBJ Company partnership."

My father nodded approvingly, the way a teacher might when a student gave the correct answer. "Exactly. Both times, I found him to be exceptional—intelligent, resourceful, and driven. Qualities I value greatly."

"Thank you, sir," Jason added after a beat, his tone surprised but also carrying a hint of pride. Clearly, he hadn’t expected such high praise from the infamous Charles Kingsley.

I whipped around to face him. "Oh, don’t thank him, Jason. You have no idea what you’re walking into."

I threw my hands up in frustration, pacing the room as my heart pounded in disbelief. "So, what? Because he impressed you during a business deal, you think that qualifies him to... to—"

"To marry my daughter," my father finished for me, his voice firm but tinged with amusement.

Jason, who had been standing silently, suddenly looked like he had been hit by a truck. "Wait, what?" he said, his voice an octave higher than usual.