Chapter 4 Come Over Tonight

When Melanie returned to the main hall, she found the place spotless, the servants having vanished.

Relying on memory, she wandered deeper inside, only to catch the sound of John's weathered voice drifting from a room off to her right the moment she crossed the threshold.

"What possessed Greyson to allow Lorna a place here at the estate? Is it really because she carries Leland's child? Leland has been gone for years, and I've never seen Greyson pay much heed to brotherly loyalty."

A second voice joined the conversation, smooth and speculative. Sir, have you noticed how stunning Lorna's daughter is?"

"Humph!" John's reply was a cold, dismissive scoff. That biting laugh made Melanie's heart race and her skin go cold. "If that's what he's after, that girl won't be staying here! It's not as if Greyson lacks for beautiful women. Besides, his engagement to the Anderson family is already arranged. Their upcoming deal with us is far too important for him to get reckless now."

An uneasy silence settled in the hallway.

Melanie felt as if the floor had shifted beneath her feet.

An engagement? Greyson was promised to someone else?

"There's no way Greyson would step in without a hidden motive. Something else is going on."

"Don't worry, sir. I'll make sure someone keeps watch on the situation. And should we give those two women in Emerald Villa some money for daily expenses? They seem short of money and-"

"Not a single cent is to be given to them!"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

...

The conversation carried on behind closed doors.

The envelope in Melanie's grasp crumpled as her fingers tightened around it.

Ultimately, she decided not to step inside.

If they refused to cover even basic expenses, what hope was there that they'd lift a finger to solve the debt problem?

She realized that to John, the real issue was never the existence of Leland's child - it was what motivated Greyson to bring Lorna and her into the Blake fold.

For families of this status, blood ties often amounted to little more than an empty phrase.

A different path would have to be found, Melanie realized.

Without another glance, she turned away, thoughts swirling around the mountain of debt that she still had to face.

As she rounded the next hallway, she collided with someone unexpectedly.

Greyson stood before her.

The cool strength of the arms that caught her, along with a scent she knew too well, transported her instantly back to the intimate moments they had shared before the dinner.

He had changed into a light gray casual outfit, which softened his usual stern demeanor. But an undeniable air of authority still clung to him, discouraging anyone from coming too close.

When she remembered the engagement she'd overheard, Melanie's posture grew rigid. She edged backward, head bowed, her voice quiet and formal. "Sorry, Mr. Blake."

Greyson remained silent. Without so much as a glance, he moved past her, treating her as if they had never crossed paths before.

A heavy pressure seemed to radiate from him, thickening the silence between them.

Melanie waited until the sound of his footsteps vanished down the hall before daring to exhale and risk a look over her shoulder.

From a distance, his silhouette was all clean lines and cold contrast - sharp, untouchable, utterly out of reach.

She knew that a man like that was never meant for someone like her.

Had she known about the engagement, Melanie never would have set foot in his room or agreed to that shameful act.

Still, the fact that no official announcement had been made meant that this could easily be nothing more than a calculated alliance, a partnership without affection, a marriage arranged for business. Perhaps Greyson and his fiancée hadn't even exchanged words.

Melanie told herself that maybe in Greyson's eyes, whatever had happened between them was nothing but a passing indiscretion.

Melanie's teeth pressed into her lower lip.

At that moment, the vibration of her phone startled her from her thoughts.

Expecting to see a message from Lorna checking in, Melanie hurried to unlock her phone. The words on the screen made her heart skip - she nearly fumbled the device.

"Come over tonight."

No name appeared with the text, yet the number was etched in her memory.

She recognized it instantly as the private line Greyson had shared during that desperate encounter in the underground garage, back when she first pleaded for his help.

Yet their arrangement was finished, so why was he reaching out again?

Trying to quiet the unease swirling in her chest, she made her way back to Emerald Villa.

Lorna met her at the door, concern etched across her face.

"What did John say?"

Glancing at her mother's rounded belly, Melanie resolved to shield her from worry.

"He said it's going to take a little time to confirm things, so we need to be patient. Everything's alright, Mom."

Helping Lorna upstairs, Melanie added, "I'll head out for groceries soon. If you're tired, just lie down for a bit. From here on out, let's skip dining outside. We'll do our own cooking at the villa."

Lorna, worn out by her pregnancy, soon drifted into sleep, but not before murmuring a few more words of advice to her daughter.

Once she'd settled her mother in bed, Melanie spent a long time wrestling with her nerves before finally working up the nerve to head for Greyson's villa.

Refusing him was out of the question.

Any hint of disobedience could see both her and her mother tossed out with nothing.

That sort of disaster would bring more than just creditors to their door.

Vivian herself would stop at nothing to make sure Lorna's child never saw the light of day.

Turning to the Blake family for shelter had set them on a road with no escape.

Greyson's villa, with its familiar architecture, offered little comfort despite its similarities to Emerald Villa.

Waiting at the threshold, the butler gave her a silent nod of acknowledgment.

With a wave of his hand, he beckoned her inside.

"Mr. Blake is expecting you upstairs, in his bedroom."

A nervous tremor raced through Melanie.

That room still held the echoes of everything that had happened between them.

Each hesitant step reminded her of the uncomfortable ache that lingered, making her want to shrink away.

Behind her, the door clicked shut, cutting off any retreat.

Night air drifted through the garden, crisp and cool, yet Melanie shivered as if winter itself pressed in from every direction.

After a long pause at the base of the stairs, she drew herself up, passed through the living room, and mounted each step with leaden feet, finally reaching the door that she thought she'd never have to face again. Calming down, she knocked at the door.