Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Strangers in the Same Storm
Something that wanted to destroy them both.
Leonard finished his drink and turned toward the window, letting the night swallow him whole.
“I’ll take the closet near the balcony,” he said quickly, stepping in before she reached the handle. “That one’s… not in use.”
Leonard chuckled under his breath. “They don’t know it’s a contract.”
But his parents had already broken the first rule. He hadn’t expected them to like her. And certainly not to treat her with such softness. His mother had looked at Melanie like she was her daughter. His father, reserved but quietly approving.
She wasn’t pretending. She wasn’t scheming. She wasn’t begging for status or riches.
And yet, neither of them knew—
“Even contract marriage?”
“Oh.”
Or promises.
But Melanie was different. He had met women who wrapped their smiles around ambition, who laced their laughter with strategy. But Melanie… Melanie looked like she’d forgotten how to want anything at all.
He poured himself another drink and glanced briefly at the dresser drawer where the photo now lay hidden again.
He had from the very moment she drunkenly clung to him outside that bar, and in the hotel room.
Instead, she stood slowly, then walked to the other side of the bed. She picked up her suitcase and dragged it toward the walk-in closet.
“It’s late,” he said curtly. “You should rest.”
Not that one.
He hated the pull in his chest when he caught Melanie frowning at her reflection in the hallway mirror. The way she bit her lips when she was nervous. The way she refused to ask questions, even though her confusion was painted all over her face.
He didn’t turn around. “They’re old-fashioned. They believe in the idea of family. Marriage.”
He stepped out of the bathroom and found her sitting on the far edge of the bed, her back to him, fingers nervously picking at the hem of her blouse. She hadn’t changed her clothes yet. Hadn’t spoken since their earlier encounter.
He walked past her to the small table near the window and poured himself a drink. The whiskey burned down his throat, but it grounded him.
It complicated things.
It was a candid photo… sunlight in her hair, a crooked smile mid-laugh. He’d shoved it into that shelf years ago, unable to burn it, unable to let it breathe. And Melanie’s fingers had hovered just inches from it… her head tilted, curiosity clear in her gaze.
It would come for the last pieces of himself he hadn’t realized was still breakable.
Or rules…
She had no idea what she had signed up for. No idea the kind of world she had just stepped into.
Distance was better.
She’d walked through the grand front doors with hesitation in her eyes but her spine straight. Trying to be brave. Trying not to look lost. He’d noticed everything. From the way she blinked when she met his parents, to how her eyes flicked from chandelier to marble floors like she was trying to memorize her escape route.
Leonard’s POV
And yet, he did.
It won’t just come for them—
That photo was a memory he hadn’t touched in years. A ghost he wasn’t ready to face—not with Melanie in the same room.
The room was quiet, but not peaceful. The curtains fluttered like restless ghosts, and faint music rose up from the dining hall below… soft jazz, clashing with the storm in his head. Somewhere, a door clicked shut. The manor never slept.
That something dangerous was already moving toward them.
And then freedom.
This was going to be harder than he thought.
Which made her dangerous in a way he couldn’t define.
She didn’t see it clearly, he could tell. But something in her eyes… suspicion? Recognition?
He wouldn’t start now.
When she was gone, Leonard exhaled.
She had nothing left to lose.
Silence stretched again.
They were both strangers in the same storm, bound by a contract and a secret he didn’t dare speak aloud.
And if Leonard wasn’t careful…
Leonard leaned against the edges of the dresser, watching through the open balcony doors as dusk spilled purple shadows across the sky. The sea breeze drifted faintly through the air, but he barely noticed. His mind had been racing since they stepped back into Westwood Manor… since she arrived.
But the worst part?
Leonard’s eyes flicked to the door she was about to open.
Two years. Appearances. Silence.
She lay quietly on the far side of the bed, her breathing slow, her thoughts restless.
She paused, eyes narrowing slightly, but didn’t protest. She turned and walked to the opposite door, disappearing inside without a word.
With a sigh, he moved toward the bathroom. Her few things were barely unpacked. Just a simple suitcase in the corner and a jacket folded over the armchair. She didn’t belong in the mansion any more than he did.
She hesitated, as if weighing whether she was allowed to speak. Her fingers curled tighter at her side. Leonard didn’t turn, but the pause between them was louder than any answers.
At first, he’d thought it was the resemblance. The way her eyes reminded him of her. The woman who had once made him feel something— then vanished like smoke, and left scars that hadn’t healed.
And that scared the hell out of him.
She reminded him of someone he’d try hard to forget.
Something that won’t care about contracts…
He waited for her to ask where she’d be sleeping—on the bed or elsewhere. He wouldn’t have answered anyway. Not tonight. But she didn’t ask.
He looked at Melanie.
Good.
She finally spoke up, her voice soft. “Your parents were kind.”
No. He couldn’t allow that.
And Leonard hated complications.
He hated how her voice made him pause.
He wasn’t supposed to notice her at all.
This entire marriage was supposed to be business.
When he walked in on her earlier, reaching for that photo… his body had reacted faster than his mind. He hadn’t even spoken sharply, but the sight of her fingers near that image had struck something raw in him.
He hadn’t looked at it in years
