Chapter 29: Chapter 29: Quiet Storms
He imagined her curled up in the living room, maybe sketching something beautiful. Maybe smiling. Maybe not. But she’d be there.
Even the air felt… still.
But the entire time, his mind kept drifting.
“Wait, no—please. I don’t want to make it worse. I already feel like I don’t belong there. If you interfere, they’ll think I’m just pulling strings because of your name.”
By the time he got into the car that evening, the weight of the day hadn’t lifted—but the idea of seeing Melanie was enough to carry him through.
It wasn’t the kind of silence that whispered peace.
She leaned into him for the first time that evening.
And she was the reason.
To her.
She looked like she had folded herself into silence, like she was holding her breath beneath the surface of still water.
She hesitated, then let him take it.
But he would watch. Listen. Prepare.
She exhaled slowly, as if the air had been locked in her chest all day. “There’s just… something happened at school. It’s nothing serious, not really. I don’t want to dump it on you.”
He handed his briefcase to one of the staff, loosened his tie, and headed toward the main hallway. There were no warm smells from the kitchen, no soft laughter drifting from the drawing room. His steps slowed.
Leonard sat beside her, close enough to see the tension in her shoulders. “You sure?”
And though she didn’t say it, Leonard knew what that meant: she trusted him.
She blinked, startled. Then she forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Hey. You’re home.”
Melanie sat on the couch, posture stiff, eyes fixed on the blank television screen in front of her. A cup of tea sat untouched on the table beside her. She didn’t even look up when he walked in.
He turned back. “Melanie, this isn’t about my name. It’s about the truth.”
Leonard’s eyes sharpened. “Are they accusing you?”
He found her in the sitting room.
Leonard looked at her, really looked at her. Her hands were shaking slightly, but her eyes held their usual fire. She wasn’t fragile. She was furious beneath the surface. Hurt, but standing.
But none of it had mattered today. Not really.
It was the kind that hinted something had gone wrong.
Melanie paused, biting her lip. Then she spoke. “A USB drive went missing from Professor Yara’s office. It had other students’ portfolio drafts on it. They’re saying I was the last one who entered the office yesterday.”
He sat back in his sleek, glass-walled office after the meeting, loosening his tie with a sigh. His assistant knocked, offering a summary of tomorrow’s engagements, but Leonard barely heard a word. His thoughts were already at home. With her.
But today, the silence pressed in like fog.
“No one’s said it outright, but…” Her voice dropped. “They’re looking at me differently. Whispers, glances. And my file’s being held until they figure it out.”
He wouldn’t interfere—not yet.
He hadn’t expected that moment to linger the way it did. All day, he’d replayed it—the softness in her voice, the vulnerability in her eyes, the simple strength of her choosing him despite everything. He hadn’t told her yet, but he would. He had secrets—burdens he’d carried alone for years—but he didn’t want to keep them from her much longer.
He stepped closer. “Melanie?”
Then Leonard stood.
He didn’t believe her.
He reached for her hand. “Melanie.”
She looked up. “Where are you going?”
He studied her carefully. “Yeah. Tough day. But you look like yours might’ve been worse.”
She didn’t realize it, but Melanie Westwood had already become something formidable. Not just to him, but to anyone who thought they could bend her.
He remembered the woman he met in that bar—broken, angry, lost. The one who swore she’d never believe in love again.
“I’m calling someone at Harrington,” he said. “This isn’t just a misunderstanding. It’s sabotage.”
Leonard stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the city blur into a sea of taillights and shadows. Deals were made. Contracts signed. Empires managed.
All he knew was that his priorities had shifted.
Melanie Westwood wasn’t alone anymore.
Usually, the manor greeted him with quiet grace—someone at the door, the faint smell of whatever the chef had prepared, the sound of music from one of the distant rooms.
She shook her head too quickly. “No. Just tired. Long classes, that’s all.”
Last night had shifted something between them. When Melanie agreed to give their marriage a real chance, it felt like a crack of light had broken through the grey. It wasn’t dramatic or perfect. It was quiet, cautious. But it was real.
He returned to the couch and wrapped an arm around her. “Okay. You fight. I’ll be here.”
Something was wrong.
Leonard’s POV
Leonard stopped mid-step. Her voice was small, but clear.
“I’m fine.”
“There’s something you’re not saying.”
Because if this shadow lurking in her life thought she was alone, they’d made a grave mistake.
Except, the manor was too quiet when he stepped inside.
And now, this same woman sat beside him, hurt but fighting. Afraid, yet still showing up for herself.
A beat passed.
“Try me.”
He wasn’t sure when it happened—when the weight of Westwood Corp stopped being the center of his world. Maybe it was the night he found Melanie drunk in the bar. Or the quiet way she spoke his name like it meant something when she found out who he was.
No scent of food. No flicker of light from the upstairs landing.
The day had been long, exhausting in the way only high-stakes meetings could be. Leonard adjusted his cufflinks as he stepped into the elevator of Westwood Corp’s headquarters, already feeling the dull weight of fatigue settling behind his eyes. The board had been relentless—arguing projections, dissecting strategies, questioning every move. He’d played the part, as always: sharp, in control, untouchable. He entered his office
“I know,” she said. “But I need to fight this myself. Just… be here. That’s all I’m asking.”
Still, as he held her close, his mind spun. Someone had dared to set her up. Someone wanted her gone.
