Chapter 26: The Quiet Between Wars

Leonard's POV

The night air was quiet as Leonard stepped out of the car, the manor bathed in the soft orange hues of sunset. He loosened his tie while walking up the marble steps, exhausted from yet another tense meeting. The board had been on edge lately, but his mind wasn't on numbers or corporate takeovers.

It was on her.

Melanie.

 He could see it in her eyes, hear it in the careful tone of her voice. She was trying to be strong, but something was gnawing at her peace.

He entered the grand hall and glanced toward the dining area, expecting it to be quiet.

But there she was.

Melanie sat on the far end of the long dining table, her fingers tracing the rim of her water glass. She looked up the moment he stepped in, and for a fleeting second, something in her softened.

"You're home," she said quietly.

"You're still awake," he replied.

He walked over and took the seat beside her instead of at the head of the table. Their eyes met.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

Melanie hesitated, then reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She handed it to him without a word.

Leonard glanced down.

 Unknown Number: Enjoy your spotlight while it lasts, Mrs. Westwood.

His jaw clenched.

"When did this come in?"

"This Evening."

He looked up at her. "Why didn't you tell me immediately?"

"Because I didn't want to overreact. Or maybe... because I didn't want to believe someone could hate me this much."

Leonard handed her back the phone. "Melanie, listen to me. I don't care who this is or what they think they can do. No one—and I mean no one—gets to threaten you."

She watched him carefully. "You think it's serious?"

"I think it's a warning," he said. "And I'm going to treat it like one."

"Leo, I don't want a scene. Just... keep it quiet. Please."

He nodded, his voice firm. "I'll double security. Quietly. No one will even notice. But I promise you this, Melanie... whoever they are, they're going to regret ever thinking they could touch you."

She swallowed, emotion catching in her throat. She hadn't realized how much she'd needed to hear that until he said it.

Before either of them could speak again, Melanie's phone lit up with another call.

 Mum Calling.

Her smile faded.

Leonard glanced down. "You okay?"

"It's my mother," she muttered. "I've been ignoring their calls."

He raised an eyebrow. "Want me to stay?"

She shook her head. "No... I should handle it."

She stood and stepped out into the hallway, accepting the call with a breath.

"Hello?"

"Finally!" Her mother's voice cut sharply through the speaker. "We've been calling you all day. Or have you gotten too important to answer now that you're Mrs. Westwood?"

Melanie flinched. "I've been busy with school."

Her father's voice joined in. "Busy? You think you're some queen now? You couldn't even return a call?"

"I didn't mean to ignore—"

"You're married to Leonard Westwood," her mother snapped. "Do you think that means you can forget where you came from? You still have a family. And a responsibility. You think you're someone now? Living in that big house, wearing designer clothes? Let me remind you—you owe us."

Her fingers tightened around the phone, her nails digging into her palm. She knew these voices too well—her mother's cutting superiority, her father's cold expectation. No matter how old she got, their disappointment still curled in her gut like a fist.

She wanted to scream that she wasn't the helpless girl they used to order around. That she had a life now. A choice. But the words stuck in her throat.

Melanie bit her lip. "What do you want?"

"We sent a proposal to Westwood Corp. Your husband hasn't signed it yet," her father said. "You should make sure he does. Expansion permit for our logistics company. We need his signature to secure the funds."

"I have no say in company affairs," Melanie replied tightly.

"You're his wife. Use your position for something useful!"

Her father added coldly, "You can at least be useful for once. Since you married Leonard Westwood, make him sign our proposal."

"I didn't marry him to be your middleman, I didn't marry him to be your pawn." she said quietly.

There was silence on the other end.

Then her mother scoffed. "You owe us that much."

"I don't owe you anything," Melanie said. "Not anymore."

She ended the call.

Her hands were shaking.

Melanie stared at the phone, tears threatening but not falling. She felt hollow.

She turned, nearly jumping at the sight of Leonard standing in the doorway.

He must've heard everything.

"You don't have to say anything," he said gently.

Melanie let out a bitter laugh. "You heard all that?"

He nodded.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't want to bring any of that into your world."

Leonard's jaw tightened with every word. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop—he was only coming to tell her he need the number that sent the message for tracking. But hearing the way they spoke to her, the entitlement in their voices...

It made his blood boil. He'd spent years negotiating with world leaders and ruthless CEOs, but never had he felt such a violent urge to burn something down.

Leonard stepped forward and took the phone from her hand, setting it aside. "You didn't bring it. They did."

He took her hand in his. "And I'm going to make sure they never do it again."

She looked up at him, voice shaking. "Why do you keep protecting me?"

His gaze didn't waver. "Because I'm your husband. Contract or not, that means something. It means I'm responsible for you. And I'll protect what's mine."

Her breath caught.

There was no softness in his tone—just quiet certainty. She believed him.

She stared at him, speechless.

"Now," he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face, "let's sit down and eat. You need your strength."

Melanie allowed herself to be led back to the dining room, a strange comfort blooming in her chest.

She sat across from him, picking at her food, her chest still tight from the call—but lighter than before.

No one had ever stood between her and the world like that. No one had ever looked her pain in the face and said, I'll carry this with you.

Maybe she didn't believe in fairy tales. But right now, she believed in Leonard.

No matter what storm was gathering outside—inside these walls, Leonard had become her calm.