Melina Johnson stood by the tall glass window of her bedroom, staring at the city lights below. From her position on the top floor of the Johnson estate, an architectural marvel that screamed wealth and power, she could see almost all of Capitol Hill. It was ironic, really. So much influence. So much control. And yet, she had none over her own life.

Her father, Senator Maxwell Johnson, was a man the press worshipped and his enemies feared. Sharp-tongued, ruthless, and calculated, he had built his empire not only on money, but on loyalty, silence, and strategy. He was the kind of man who smiled at you while outmaneuvering your entire legacy. And Melina his only daughter had been raised with those very same expectations: Be strong. Be smart. Be untouchable.

Across the city, in the grand Alexander mansion, Ancel Alexander dragged a loose tie from around his neck and tossed it onto his bed. He had just returned from a televised political fundraiser, standing beside his father, Governor Richard Alexander, as the cameras flashed and alliances whispered. The Alexander name was as old as the state itself. Wealthy, deeply respected, and terrifyingly influential.

Governor Alexander had always believed in legacy over love, power over peace. And Ancel? Well, Ancel had learned to fake smiles and shake hands long before he ever learned to feel anything genuine.

Their fathers were best friends political partners for decades, bound by ambition and backdoor deals. To the outside world, the Johnsons and Alexanders were a symbol of unity and strength. But behind closed doors, their children were the storm they never anticipated.

Melina hated Ancel.

Ancel hated Melina even more.

Their rivalry was legendary: from school debates to university competitions, to that one unfortunate gala where she slapped him in front of diplomats. They didn’t just disagree, they exploded. Sparks flew when they were in the same room, and not the romantic kind.

So when both families met in secret and announced the unthinkable that Melina Johnson and Ancel Alexander would marry for political alliance, it was as if the world had turned upside down.

“No way, I hate Ancel and you know Mum. I can't marry him.” Melina had said flatly, her voice cool as steel.

“Not even if the country depended on it, I hate her” Ancel had echoed, arms crossed, jaw tight.

But what neither of them realized was this: in politics, choice was just an illusion.

And this marriage… was already signed, sealed, and waiting to be hated.