Leonard's father was seated on the sofa, barely sparing her a glance, his expression unreadable. His mother, however, stood up—as if to approach her—but after just a few steps, she stopped. Her fingers curled slightly at her side, hesitation flickering in her eyes.
"Hello, Uncle. Aunty." Melisa's voice was soft, careful. She understood their point of view, and after all she had seen in the dream, she felt only gratitude toward Mrs. Soveir.
"Come, sit here, Melisa," Mrs. Soveir said gently, patting the empty space beside her on the sofa.
Melisa hesitated for a brief moment before finally obeying.
Slowly, she walked toward the seat and sat down, her fingers curling slightly in her lap. She stole a glance at Leonard—who, at some point, had moved to stand behind his mother, his expression unreadable.
As nervous energy built inside her, she fidgeted, unsure of what to say. Then, a gentle warmth covered her hands.
Melisa looked up, startled, only to find Aunt Eleanor smiling at her—soft, reassuring.
"Melisa, you remember how you used to come here with your sister? Olivia was always lively, never staying in one place for long. But you… you were always quiet. You would sit with me, sometimes just listening or massaging my hands," Aunt Eleanor said, her voice laced with nostalgia.
Melisa's eyes softened, a faint smile forming on her lips. Aunt Eleanor's words eased the tension that had gripped her heart.
"I remember… You always liked chamomile tea in the afternoons, and you're allergic to peanuts."
Aunt Eleanor's eyes lit up, the lingering unease in her heart dissipating. She squeezed Melisa's hand gently, her voice warm. "You are such a filial child," she murmured, a touch of sadness in her tone.
So filial, in fact, that she couldn't understand how the Everhart family had been blind enough to push her away.
"Ahem, ahem." Mr. Soveir cleared his throat with an exaggerated cough, drawing everyone's attention. His expression darkened slightly, frustration evident as the once warm atmosphere shifted into something heavier, more serious.
"Melisa."
Hearing her name, Melisa tensed up. She was just about to respond to Uncle George when the chief maid stepped in, announcing that dinner was ready.
"Let's talk after eating," Uncle George said, rising from his seat.
Everyone moved toward the dining table, taking their respective seats. But Melisa hesitated, unsure where she was supposed to sit. Sensing her hesitation, Aunt Eleanor gently took her hand and guided her to sit beside her.
The atmosphere at the table wasn't as tense as Melisa had feared. There was no strict rule against talking while eating, and the conversation flowed naturally. The father and son duo discussed business matters, their voices calm yet firm.
Meanwhile, Aunt Eleanor kept placing dishes into Melisa's bowl, her tone gentle. "Eat more, dear. You've always been too thin," she fussed, smiling warmly.
Melisa glanced at her, a mix of emotions stirring within her chest. This felt… strangely familiar. Comforting.
Although the duo was engaged in their discussion, they kept their voices low, as if mindful not to disturb their wife and mother's thoughts. Maybe Melisa was just overthinking it.
Her ears perked up when she caught mention of a collaboration between the Soveir and Everhart companies—or rather, the Olivia Everhart Corporation, renamed as a gift for Olivia's 18th birthday.
Anyone with common sense could see who was truly cherished in the Everhart family. It was clear that the company would one day belong to Olivia.
Only her parents seemed to believe they had treated both daughters equally—convinced that their occasional extra care for Olivia was justified because she was "weak."
This is not the right time to think about this. Melisa mentally scolded herself.
In her dreams, this negotiation had also taken place. Back then, she had felt awkward and unsure of how to face the Soveir family, so she had distanced herself. Tristan, seeing the bride swap as an insult, had shown her no care either.
But Uncle George and Aunt Eleanor had a good impression of her. Despite the project being risky and not particularly beneficial to their company, they had still agreed to it. In the end, it had resulted in a loss for them—though Leo had managed to handle the situation well.
When she and Tristan had found out about it, he had lashed out at her, and the argument had only pushed her deeper into her depression.
But now, she wouldn't let the same mistake repeat—no matter that her husband was now Leo.
Glancing up and seeing that everyone had finished eating, Melisa spoke up. "Uncle George, I have something to say."
Her words instantly drew attention. Leonard and Aunt Eleanor both turned to look at her.
"Hm," Uncle George mused, setting down his utensils. "I also have something to discuss. Let's go to the study."
As they made their way upstairs, Melisa glanced back—only to meet Leonard's deep, unreadable gaze.
Aunt Eleanor, however, didn't follow.
"Aunt, aren't you coming?" Melisa asked, pausing at the stairs.
Aunt Eleanor sighed, concern evident in her gentle features. "I have to visit a friend. Her health hasn't been well. Let's talk later in my room, okay?"
"Okay," Melisa agreed softly before turning toward the study, her heart steadying for what was to come.
The study door closed, and Melisa took a deep, long breath to gather her courage.
"Uncle, the negotiation..." Melisa hesitated, her fingers unconsciously gripping the hem of her dress.
Hearing her bring up the negotiation, a flicker of complicated emotion passed through Uncle George's eyes. He glanced at Leonard, who remained unfazed, his expression unreadable.
"I... I hope you don't consider me in this decision," Melisa finally said, her voice steadier than she expected. "The gains don't outweigh the losses."
For a moment, silence filled the room. Mr. Soveir's shoulders visibly relaxed, as if a burden had been lifted. He had expected her to push for the deal because of her connection to the Everhart family. Instead, she had done the opposite.
Leonard, however, was caught off guard. His sharp eyes studied her, as if reassessing the woman he had just married. "You're saying the deal isn't worth it?" he asked, his voice carrying a hint of curiosity.
Melisa nodded. "Yes. The project may seem promising on the surface, but in the long run, it will bring more risk than benefit. I don't want you to accept it just because of me."
Mr. Soveir chuckled, his tone lighter now. "Hah, so you've been paying attention to business matters." He looked at Leonard. "Your wife has more sense than most people in that family."
Leonard remained silent, but something shifted in his gaze. He had never expected Melisa to speak so rationally about business, especially regarding a deal tied to her own family.
Melisa, feeling the weight of their attention, clenched her hands to stop herself from fidgeting.
Everything was still for a minute before Mr. Soveir sighed. He leaned forward slightly from his desk, looking at her with an encouraging gaze.
"Melisa, what do you think about this marriage?" His tone was calm, carrying a weight of sincerity, as if he would support whatever decision she made.