Sharing my Bride with my Twin

The sound of her heels against the marble floor was the only thing echoing through the lavish hallway. Kory Alexander's chest tightened as she approached the massive double doors at the end of the corridor. The gilded letters on the frosted glass read "Richard Enterprises." She hated this place, hated everything it stood for-the ruthless dismantling of smaller businesses, the cold, calculated greed of its CEO, and most of all, the man who ran it.

Dickson Richard.

Her fingers clenched the portfolio she carried, the only proof she had that her company, Alexander Designs, was worth saving. The past few months had been a nightmare of court orders, aggressive buyout attempts, and sleepless nights trying to keep her father's legacy afloat. And now, she was walking into the lion's den, begging for a lifeline.

The receptionist barely glanced up from her desk. "You're late."

Kory's jaw tightened. "I wasn't aware I was on a schedule."

The receptionist, a young woman with perfectly coifed hair and a judgmental smirk, tapped her pen against the desk. "Mr. Richard doesn't appreciate being kept waiting."

"Good," Kory muttered under her breath.

She pushed the doors open without waiting for permission and stepped into the expansive office. Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the Manhattan skyline, the city glittering below as if mocking her. At the center of the room, behind a sleek glass desk, sat the man himself.

Dickson Richard looked up, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers. He didn't rise from his chair, didn't offer a greeting. Instead, he leaned back, his tailored suit stretching over broad shoulders, and watched her with the kind of smug amusement that made her skin crawl.

"You finally decided to grace me with your presence," he drawled, his deep voice laced with condescension.

"I wasn't aware this meeting was optional," Kory shot back, refusing to be intimidated. She approached the desk, her chin held high.

His lips curved into a smirk. "Everything is optional, Ms. Alexander. Including whether your company survives the next quarter."

She slammed the portfolio onto his desk. "Alexander Designs isn't just a company. It's my family's legacy, and I won't let you destroy it."

Dickson raised an eyebrow, flipping open the portfolio with deliberate slowness. He skimmed through the pages, his expression unreadable. "Your designs are impressive," he admitted, though the compliment felt backhanded. "But impressive doesn't always mean profitable."

Kory's fists clenched at her sides. "We're profitable enough. If you weren't trying to sabotage us with your underhanded tactics, we'd be thriving."

He looked up, his gaze sharp. "Business isn't personal, Ms. Alexander. It's survival of the fittest."

"And crushing smaller businesses makes you feel what? Powerful? Accomplished?"

Dickson stood, his towering frame suddenly making the office feel smaller. He walked around the desk, his movements slow and deliberate, until he was standing directly in front of her.

"It's not about feeling anything," he said, his voice dangerously low. "It's about control. Something you seem to be losing."

Kory refused to step back, even though her pulse quickened. She met his gaze head-on. "I don't need your pity, and I certainly don't need your advice."

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension crackled in the air like an impending storm. Then Dickson smirked again, his hand brushing lightly over the edge of her portfolio.

"You came here for a reason, didn't you?" he said, his tone mocking. "Let's hear it. What's your proposal?"

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to speak. "I want you to stop the takeover. Give me time to restructure my company, and I'll prove that Alexander Designs can stand on its own."

"And what do I get in return?"

"Your conscience intact."

He laughed, a low, mocking sound that made her stomach churn. "My conscience isn't for sale, Ms. Alexander. But if you're offering something else..." His gaze swept over her, deliberate and bold.

Her cheeks burned with indignation. "I'm not offering you anything except the opportunity to do the right thing."

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The right thing doesn't pay the bills."

Before she could respond, the office door burst open, and a man stepped inside. He was similar to Dickson in appearance-tall, dark-haired, and devastatingly handsome-but there was a softness in his expression that immediately set him apart.

"Dickson," the newcomer said, his tone edged with irritation. "What are you doing?"

Dickson straightened, his smirk fading slightly. "Damian, you're interrupting a business meeting."

Damian's gaze shifted to Kory, and his brow furrowed. "I'm sure she didn't come here to be toyed with."

Kory blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected ally.

Dickson sighed, as if Damian's presence was a mild inconvenience. "Ms. Alexander and I were just discussing her company's... predicament."

"Is that what you call it?" Damian asked, his tone sharp.

Kory stepped forward, her voice steady. "Your brother seems to think my company is a pawn in his little power game."

Damian's jaw tightened. "Dickson, don't you think you've done enough damage for one week?"

Dickson shrugged, unbothered. "Business, Damian. You wouldn't understand."

"Try me," Damian shot back.

The tension between the brothers was palpable, and Kory realized she was witnessing something deeper than a simple disagreement. There was history here, wounds that hadn't healed.

Dickson turned back to her, his smirk returning. "Our discussion isn't over, Ms. Alexander. I'll be in touch."

Kory opened her mouth to argue, but Damian stepped in. "I'll walk you out," he said, his tone leaving no room for debate.

She hesitated, then nodded. Anything to get out of that suffocating office.

As they stepped into the hallway, Damian glanced at her, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry about him. He has a way of... pushing people's buttons."

"That's one way to put it," Kory muttered.

Damian smiled faintly. "For what it's worth, I admire what you're trying to do. Fighting for your company, for your legacy. It's not easy going up against someone like Dickson."

"No, it's not," she admitted, surprised by his sincerity.

They stopped near the elevator, and Damian turned to face her fully. "If you ever need someone to talk to-someone who isn't trying to buy or destroy your business-you can call me."

Kory stared at him, unsure of how to respond. Was he genuinely trying to help, or was this just another game?

Before she could decide, the elevator doors opened, and she stepped inside. Damian offered her a small nod as the doors closed, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

The ride down felt endless, the weight of the confrontation pressing heavily on her chest. As she stepped out onto the bustling street, she inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself.

One thing was certain: Dickson Richard wasn't going to make this easy for her. But she wasn't about to back down.

Let the games begin.

The cold Manhattan air bit at Kory's cheeks as she stepped onto the sidewalk. The chaos of the city swirled around her-honking taxis, pedestrians rushing past, and the distant hum of conversations. She clutched her coat tighter, trying to suppress the surge of frustration bubbling in her chest.

Dickson Richard was every bit as insufferable as she'd imagined-arrogant, calculating, and dangerously attractive. The thought made her stomach twist in irritation. She didn't come here to spar with him or to fall victim to his predatory charm. She came to save her company. Her company. And yet, the entire meeting had felt like a game to him.

Her phone buzzed in her purse, breaking her train of thought. She fished it out, glancing at the screen. It was her best friend and business partner, Hannah.

"Hey," Kory answered, weaving through the crowd as she walked toward the subway station.

"Well?" Hannah's voice was breathless, anxious. "How did it go? Did that smug bastard agree to back off?"

Kory let out a bitter laugh. "You mean did he suddenly grow a conscience in the last twenty-four hours? No, Hannah. He didn't. He thinks I'm desperate, and he's enjoying watching me squirm."

"I swear, if I ever meet that man, I'll-"

"You'll what? Threaten him with your spreadsheets?" Kory teased, trying to lighten the mood despite the weight pressing down on her.

Hannah groaned. "I'd find something more creative. Maybe dump a vat of glitter on him. That stuff's impossible to get rid of."

Kory smiled faintly, her friend's humor easing some of the tension in her chest. "He said he'll 'be in touch.' Whatever that means."

"It means he's probably scheming something," Hannah said darkly. "You need to watch your back, Kory. Men like Dickson Richard don't play fair."

"I know," Kory said quietly, her mind drifting to Damian. His unexpected kindness had been a brief reprieve from the hostility she'd faced upstairs. But she couldn't afford to trust anyone with the last name Richard.

"Come back to the office," Hannah said. "We'll regroup and figure out our next move. There's gotta be another way to fight this."

"Yeah," Kory murmured, though she wasn't sure she believed it.

As she descended into the subway station, the roar of the city faded into the background. The flickering fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows on the tiled walls, and the air smelled faintly of grease and damp concrete. She boarded the train, sinking into a seat and staring blankly at the passing darkness outside the window.

Her mind wandered back to Dickson's piercing blue eyes and the way his voice had dipped when he leaned in close. He had an uncanny ability to unsettle her, to make her feel exposed despite the armor she'd carefully constructed over the years.

And Damian...

Kory shook her head, as if to physically rid herself of the thoughts. She didn't have time for distractions, especially ones that came with a pair of billionaire brothers and a minefield of ulterior motives.

When she arrived back at the office, Hannah was waiting for her with a cup of coffee and a determined expression.

"You look like you've been through hell," Hannah said, handing her the cup.

"Because I have," Kory replied, collapsing into her chair. She glanced around the small but cozy space that housed Alexander Designs. The walls were adorned with sketches of their latest collections, bursts of color and creativity that felt like a lifeline in the midst of chaos.

"Okay," Hannah said, perching on the edge of Kory's desk. "Let's strategize. What's our next move?"

Kory hesitated, staring at the coffee in her hands. "I don't know, Hannah. We're running out of options. The bank won't extend the loan, the investors are spooked, and now Dickson is circling like a vulture."

Hannah frowned, her brow furrowing. "There has to be something we haven't tried. Maybe we can pitch directly to some high-profile clients? If we land a big enough contract, it could buy us some time."

Kory nodded slowly. "It's worth a shot. I'll start reaching out tomorrow."

"And what about Dickson? Are you just going to wait for him to 'be in touch'?"

Kory sighed. "What choice do I have? I can't go to war with him, Hannah. Not when he has all the leverage."

"Then we'll create leverage," Hannah said firmly. "There has to be something he wants more than your company."

Kory opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, her phone buzzed again. This time, it wasn't a call. It was a text.

Dickson: I'll send a car to pick you up at 8 PM. Wear something... appropriate.

Her stomach dropped.

"What is it?" Hannah asked, noticing the change in her expression.

"It's him," Kory said, her voice tight. She handed the phone to Hannah, who read the message and let out a disbelieving laugh.

"What the hell does he mean, 'appropriate'? Is he taking you to a gala or a strip club?"

Kory groaned, running a hand through her hair. "I don't know, and I don't care. I'm not going."

Hannah arched an eyebrow. "Oh, you're going. If Dickson Richard wants to meet you at 8 PM, you show up and make him regret it."

Kory stared at her friend, torn between annoyance and grudging agreement. "Fine," she muttered. "But if this turns out to be some power play, I'm walking out."

"Deal," Hannah said with a grin. "Now let's find you something to wear. If you're going to face the devil, you might as well look like you own him."

Kory couldn't help but smile at that. But as she stood and followed Hannah to the small rack of sample designs in the corner, the knot in her stomach refused to loosen.

Whatever game Dickson was playing, she wasn't sure she was ready for it. But she'd be damned if she let him see her sweat.

By the time the sleek black car pulled up outside her apartment building, Kory was ready-or at least she told herself she was. She adjusted the deep green satin dress she'd borrowed from their latest collection, the fabric clinging to her curves in all the right ways. The neckline dipped just low enough to draw attention, but not so much that she felt exposed. Her hair was swept into an elegant updo, and a bold swipe of red lipstick completed the look.

Hannah had spent the last hour hyping her up, alternating between compliments and threats about not letting Dickson intimidate her.

"Remember," Hannah had said as Kory stepped out the door, "you're there on your terms, not his. Don't let him pull any of his manipulative billionaire crap."

Easier said than done.

The driver didn't say a word as she slid into the back seat of the car, the interior smelling faintly of leather and expensive cologne. The partition between her and the driver was up, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Kory stared out the window as the city blurred past, the glowing lights and towering skyscrapers a stark contrast to the unease churning in her stomach.

Where was he taking her?

The car finally came to a stop outside one of Manhattan's most exclusive private clubs. The imposing façade of the building, with its carved stone arches and discreet gold lettering, exuded wealth and power.

The driver opened her door, and Kory stepped out, her heels clicking against the cobblestone driveway. She hesitated for a moment, taking in the elegant crowd filtering inside. Men in tailored suits, women in designer gowns, their laughter and chatter a backdrop to the faint strains of classical music wafting from within.

"Kory."

The familiar deep voice sent a shiver down her spine. She turned to see Dickson standing a few feet away, his tall frame illuminated by the soft glow of the club's entrance lights.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, the sharp lines emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean figure. His dark hair was slicked back, and his piercing blue eyes studied her with an intensity that made her heart skip a beat.

"You clean up well," he said, his lips curving into a faint smirk.

Kory straightened her shoulders, refusing to let him see how his presence affected her. "I wasn't aware this was a formal occasion. You could've mentioned it."

Dickson's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he stepped closer, offering her his arm. "Shall we?"

She hesitated, then reluctantly looped her arm through his. His touch was firm and warm, a stark contrast to the cold, calculating man she'd encountered earlier.

As they entered the club, the grandeur of the interior took her breath away. Crystal chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the richly decorated space. Waiters in crisp uniforms glided through the crowd, balancing trays of champagne and hors d'oeuvres.

"What is this?" Kory asked, her voice low as she leaned closer to Dickson.

"A charity auction," he replied casually. "Richard Enterprises is one of the primary sponsors."

Her brow furrowed. "And you brought me here because...?"

He glanced at her, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Because I wanted to. Do I need a reason?"

"Yes," she said firmly. "I'm not here to play games, Dickson."

His smirk widened. "Relax, Ms. Alexander. This isn't a game. Consider it an opportunity to expand your network. You're in the presence of some of the most influential people in the city. Use it wisely."

Kory bit back a retort, her eyes scanning the crowd. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. If she could connect with the right people tonight, it might give her company a fighting chance.

"Fine," she said, her tone clipped. "But don't think this means I owe you anything."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Dickson said smoothly, his hand lingering on the small of her back as he guided her through the crowd.

She caught snippets of conversations as they moved, discussions about stock prices, real estate ventures, and luxury vacations. It was a world so far removed from her own, yet she was determined not to let it intimidate her.

"Dickson, darling," a woman's voice purred, cutting through the hum of the room.

Kory turned to see a stunning blonde approaching them, her red gown hugging her impossibly slim figure. Her sharp, catlike eyes flicked to Kory with thinly veiled curiosity before settling back on Dickson.

"Victoria," Dickson said, his tone polite but cool.

"Who's your lovely companion?" Victoria asked, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"This is Kory Alexander," Dickson said smoothly. "She runs a fashion design company. Very talented."

Kory forced a polite smile, extending her hand. "Nice to meet you."

Victoria shook her hand briefly, her grip like ice. "Likewise. Dickson has such an... eye for interesting people."

The way she said "interesting" felt like a veiled insult, but Kory refused to rise to the bait.

"Excuse us," Dickson said, his hand returning to Kory's back as he steered her away.

"Friend of yours?" Kory asked dryly.

"Hardly," he replied, his voice laced with irritation.

As they approached a quieter corner of the room, Dickson stopped and turned to face her. "I didn't bring you here to deal with people like her. I brought you here because I believe in opportunities."

Kory raised an eyebrow. "Opportunities for me, or for you?"

His lips twitched, but his eyes were serious. "For both of us."

Before she could respond, a deep voice interrupted.

"Dickson. Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Kory turned to see Damian Richard approaching, a glass of whiskey in his hand. His expression softened when his eyes landed on her.

"Kory," Damian said warmly, ignoring his brother. "I'm glad to see you again."

"Damian," she replied, surprised but genuinely pleased.

The tension between the brothers was immediate and palpable. Dickson's jaw tightened, his hand resting protectively on Kory's back.

"What are you doing here, Damian?" Dickson asked coldly.

"Enjoying the evening," Damian replied, his tone calm but pointed. "And wondering why you're dragging Ms. Alexander into your schemes."

Kory glanced between the two men, her unease growing. Whatever was happening between them, she was caught in the middle-and she didn't like it one bit.

"This isn't a scheme," Dickson said sharply. "It's business."

Damian's gaze didn't waver. "Sure it is."

Kory cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. "If you two are done, I think I'll go get some air."

Neither man stopped her as she stepped away, but she could feel their eyes on her back as she wove through the crowd.

When she finally reached the balcony, the crisp night air filled her lungs, calming the storm of emotions swirling inside her. But as she leaned against the railing, trying to steady herself, she heard footsteps behind her.

She turned, half-expecting to see Dickson-or maybe even Damian.

Instead, she found Victoria, her expression unreadable.

"We need to talk," Victoria said, her tone sharp and laced with something Kory couldn't quite place.

Kory straightened, her guard instantly up. "About what?"

Victoria stepped closer, her red gown catching the light like liquid fire. "About Dickson. And about what you're getting yourself into."