Chapter 31: Shadow from the past

Adrian's POV

Adrian had never been a man who waited for things.

He took. He claimed. He made moves and watched the world bend, even if it cracked on the way down.

But this?

This silence? This invisible wall between him and Melanie?

It was driving him insane.

He'd sent messages.

Blocked.

He tried calling.

Number no longer reachable.

He even considered going to her parents, but that bridge was burnt the moment Melanie walked away.

The Westwood Manor? Untouchable.

No one got in without being cleared. No one just "showed up."

And somehow, she'd slipped right through his fingers.

At first, he told himself it was just his ego.

That he wanted her back because she'd moved on first. Because she had someone else.

But lately… it wasn't that.

It was the silence.

The way his chest ached at night.

The memory of her laugh, soft and unsure. Her eyes—hopeful and honest, until he destroyed all of that.

He thought she'd always be there.

Waiting.

Loyal.

Easy.

He hadn't realized she was the most valuable thing he had—until she wasn't his anymore.

And now she belonged to him.

Leonard Westwood.

Adrian scoffed, pacing by the floor-to-ceiling window of his apartment.

He'd heard whispers. Seen the news. Melanie… married.

Some still thought it was a business move. Some said it was real.

He didn't know.

All he knew was that the sight of her with Leonard made something hollow inside him rage.

He couldn't stand not knowing.

Not seeing her.

Not hearing her voice.

So maybe… it was time to try somewhere else.

If she wouldn't answer, and Westwood Manor was locked down, there was still one place she had to show up.

Harrington Design Institute.

***

Leonard's POV 

The soft morning light filtered in through the tall curtains, casting faint golden lines across the marble floor.

But Leonard's eyes weren't on the sunrise.

They were on her.

Melanie.

She lay beside him, still fast asleep, her breathing slow and steady.

The blanket barely covered her shoulder, her arm curled under the pillow, long hair fanned across the sheets like silk threads spun by moonlight.

Leonard stayed still, propped slightly against the headboard, watching her like he was afraid she might vanish if he blinked.

She looked different in sleep.

Not the quiet tension she wore when walking through the manor.

Not the guarded smile she gave to strangers.

Not even the steady fire she tried to tuck away when she was hurt.

This was something else.

Peace.

A kind of stillness that only came from people who were constantly fighting the world when they were awake.

He reached out, letting his fingers hover just above her cheek.

Didn't touch.

Just watched.

Her lashes were thick and dark. Her lips parted slightly.

She looked… like an angel.

Almost unreal.

He smiled softly, eyes taking in the curve of her jaw, the way the sunlight kissed her skin.

"She looks just as peaceful like..."

The words escaped in a breath before he caught them.

He froze.

The sentence trailed, unfinished, but it struck his chest like a blade.

He couldn't say the name.

Wouldn't.

But it was there, buried beneath his ribcage like a splinter he never removed.

The past.

The guilt.

The ghost he still carried.

He closed his eyes briefly, jaw tight.

This wasn't the same.

Melanie wasn't her.

But sometimes… in the quiet moments like this, when Melanie wasn't trying to hold everything together—

She looked so painfully much like her.

And Leonard hated himself for seeing it.

He took a deep breath and forced himself to move again, grounding himself in the present.

He leaned forward and gently brushed a strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

Her brow twitched slightly, but she didn't wake.

He let his hand linger near her cheek for just a moment longer.

Then he whispered,

"I won't lose you too."

Not to fear.

Not to sabotage.

Not to secrets.

Not to death.

He would tell her. Soon.

But for now, he just watched her sleep, like a man trying to memorize a prayer he was too afraid to speak aloud. 

He has plan for her today. He has a date to plan... 

A date for him and Melanie. He would pursue her the right way... Go on dates, have fun, ask her to be his in the right way all ladies loves.

When Melanie stirred awake, the light in the room had shifted — soft, golden, and gentle against her skin. She blinked slowly, her body reluctant to leave the comfort of the sheets.

Then she noticed something strange.

Leonard was still there.

Not in his usual tailored suit or pressed shirt. But in a simple grey t-shirt and black lounge pants, sleeves pushed to his elbows, hair slightly tousled.

She pushed herself up on her elbow, frowning softly. "You're not dressed."

He looked up from the coffee cup in his hands. "Good morning to you too."

"I mean… you're not in your work clothes." She squinted at the clock on the wall. "Aren't you supposed to be… CEO-ing something by now?"

Leonard chuckled, leaning back in the chair beside the window. "We have somewhere to be. Later today."

Melanie raised a brow. "We?"

He sipped his coffee like he hadn't just dropped an unexpected mystery in the middle of the morning. "Yes. Together."

She narrowed her eyes. "Where?"

"You'll see," he said with maddening calm.

Melanie flopped back onto the pillow. "That's so annoying."

Leonard smiled into his cup.

***

Later that Morning...

Breakfast was prepared by the chef — eggs, fresh croissants, a spread of fruit and warm tea. Melanie picked at her plate at first, still not used to being served like this. But the smell was too good to resist.

As they ate, she looked up at him across the table, chin resting in her hand.

"Can I ask you something?"

Leonard lifted a brow. "Go ahead."

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Work," she said. "Run Westwood Corp. Be this… billionaire mogul everyone talks about. Does your brain just run on caffeine and contracts?"

Leonard laughed — not his polite chuckle, but something more genuine. "Something like that."

She leaned forward, eyes curious now. "Seriously. I want to know. What's your day like? Is it just boardrooms and yelling into phones?"

"Not always." He set his fork down. "Some days are meetings. Other days, I'm signing off on expansions or reviewing mergers. But a lot of it is planning. Thinking ten steps ahead."

Melanie nodded slowly. "Sounds exhausting."

"It is." His voice softened. "But I like building things. I like control."

She tilted her head. "You don't seem like someone who likes control. You seem like someone who needs it."

That made him pause. Then he gave her a small smile. "Maybe you're right."

Their eyes held for a moment longer than necessary.

Then she cleared her throat, looking away. "Well… if you ever need an assistant with very average typing speed, let me know."

"I'll keep that in mind."

***

Evening...

Just before sunset, a knock came at her bedroom door.

When Melanie opened it, a professional stylist stood waiting with two garment bags and a soft smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Westwood. I've been sent to help you get ready."

"Get ready for…?"

"Mr. Westwood will explain."

Within an hour, her hair was styled in elegant waves, makeup soft and flattering, and the dress she slipped into — a sleek, floor-length black gown — hugged her figure like it had been made for her.

When she stepped into the hallway, Leonard was already waiting.

Dressed in a sharp black tuxedo, hair neatly styled, he looked every inch the man the world knew. But his eyes… they softened the moment he saw her.

He offered his hand. "Ready?"

She slipped her fingers into his. "I still don't know where we're going."

"I know. It's more fun this way."

They descended the steps together, the staff briefly pausing to watch them go. It felt strange, walking beside him like this. Like they were really something.

A sleek black car waited outside. Leonard opened the door for her first.

Once they were both inside, the car pulled away.

It was supposed to be a perfect evening.

Until they reached the gates.

***

Outside Westwood Manor...

As the car began to roll down the driveway, headlights catching on the winding path, something shifted.

Leonard glanced out the window — and frowned.

A figure.

Running.

Frantic.

At first, Melanie thought it might be a mistake. Maybe someone had taken a wrong turn.

But the closer the figure came, the more clearly she could see — torn clothes, dirt-streaked skin, wild hair.

A girl.

Running straight for their car. 

"What if she needs help , she thought."

"Leonard, stop the car."

He was already opening the door.

Melanie followed, heart pounding as she stepped into the warm evening air.

The girl stumbled closer. Her face came into focus under the lights.

Both Leonard and Melanie froze.

Her face was pale. Bruised. Eyes wild with something between fear and desperation.

And familiar.

Very familiar.

Melanie's breath caught. "Isn't she…?"

Leonard didn't answer.

Because he knew exactly who she was.

And the past had just come crashing into the present.