The Contract Bride of Westwood

Melanie's POV 

She couldn't get the man's face out of her head.

The way he'd smiled at her earlier that day—casual, confident, but cold—had made her spine crawl. And his words?

"Tell Leo... Aaron said he's back."

The name alone echoed in her mind long after she left campus. His presence had been like a shadow stretching across her sunshine, cold and heavy. By the time she got home, Melanie was sure she'd forgotten how to breathe properly.

As she stepped into the grand hallway of Westwood Manor, the scent of vanilla and faint cologne welcomed her, wrapping around her like a familiar blanket. But there was a knot in her stomach that no scent or softness could ease.

Her heels clicked quietly against the marble tiles. She dropped her bag on the bench near the entrance and padded down the hallway, her fingers brushing along the cool wallpaper as if grounding herself.

She needed to talk to Leo. Now.

He was in his study, the door slightly ajar. Inside, he sat behind his large desk, one hand absently scrolling through his tablet, the other tapping rhythmically against his chin. His suit jacket hung behind the chair, and his shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. He looked tired—but focused.

There was something calming about seeing him like that, lost in thought. It almost made her forget how much her world had shifted since that strange encounter.

"Leo?" she said, hesitantly.

His eyes lifted immediately. "You're back. How was your first day?"

She nodded, her throat dry. "Fine... well, until something strange happened."

That got his full attention. He put the tablet aside, his expression sharpening.

"Strange?" he repeated, his voice lower now.

Melanie walked farther into the room, hands curling into fists at her sides. She took a breath.

"I met someone," she began slowly. "He told me to tell you… that Aaron is back."

The moment the name left her lips, Leo froze.

It wasn't just a pause—it was a stillness that sent a chill through the room. The kind of stillness that warned of something dangerous beneath the surface.

Melanie stepped closer, heart thudding. "Who is he?"

For a moment, Leo said nothing. Then, slowly, he leaned back and exhaled.

"Aaron… is my elder brother."

Her eyebrows rose. "Brother?"

A humorless smile tugged at his lips. "By name only. We're not family in any way that matters. We're… rivals."

Rivals?

She frowned. There was something raw in his voice. Bitterness. Resentment. Even… pain?

Leo stood and began pacing slowly across the study.

"We were raised like cousins. Our fathers were business partners. Aaron was always older, always ahead. But when it came to the company… to the inheritance… I was chosen."

He stopped, turning toward her, eyes guarded.

"He never forgave that."

Melanie wrapped her arms around herself, a slight shiver crawling up her spine. "Why would he approach me?"

Leo's jaw clenched. "Because he knows I care."

The words hit harder than she expected.

Melanie's eyes widened. "You—"

He looked away. "You're my wife. Even if it's on paper, you're still part of my world. And Aaron… he'll try to use that."

She didn't miss the hesitation in his voice. Or the flicker of something deeper in his eyes.

"I won't let him hurt you," he added, more quietly.

Her chest tightened.

It wasn't a confession. But it felt like one.

"Next time you see him," Leo continued, "don't talk to him. Don't respond. Just walk away."

Melanie nodded slowly. "Okay."

But her mind was racing.

The silence that followed was tense. Even the clinking of silverware during dinner later that evening felt too loud. Leo barely touched his food, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Melanie, too, was distracted.

Not just by Aaron's sudden appearance—but by Leo's reaction.

His protectiveness. His anger.

And the way he said he cared.

She wasn't sure what it meant… or if she was even allowed to hope it meant something at all.

After dinner, she escaped to the bedroom first, brushing her hair in front of the mirror like she always did. The repetitive motion usually helped her calm down. Tonight, it didn't.

Leo entered the room a few minutes later, dressed in a soft grey shirt and joggers. Casual. Comfortable. But still undeniably commanding.

He paused behind her, watching her in the mirror.

"Don't overthink it," he said.

She blinked. "What?"

"Aaron. You're safe here."

The words were simple. But the way he said them—low, firm, certain—struck something deep inside her.

Melanie gave a small nod. "Thanks."

There was a pause.

"You always brush your hair before bed?"

She smiled faintly. "Always. It's a habit."

He chuckled. "Weird one."

"I could say the same about your matching pajama sets."

He scoffed. "They're not pajamas. They're loungewear."

"Sure they are," she teased, folding her arms.

They both got into bed—Leo grabbing a file to read, Melanie curling under the covers, eyes on the glittering lights of the city outside their window.

It was the first peaceful moment she'd had all day.

Until her phone buzzed sharply on the nightstand.

She frowned, reaching for it.

Unknown number. But she knew who it was.

Her heart dropped.

Adrian.

She stared at the screen as it continued to ring. Her fingers hovered over the screen, unmoving.

She'd blocked him. Deleted him. Cut off every thread that tied them together.

But here he was. Calling.

Again.

Leo noticed her hesitation.

He sat up slightly. "Who is it?"

Melanie swallowed. Her grip tightened on the phone.

"Adrian," she whispered.

Leo's jaw flexed.

The screen lit up again.

Incoming call: Adrian.

Persistent.

Melanie stared at the screen, unsure if she wanted to answer—or if she even could.

Her thumb hovered above the screen, frozen in place. Her heart pounded against her ribs, loud and anxious. Why now? Why him?

Was he calling out of guilt? To apologize? To twist the knife deeper?

Her mind spun with the possibilities. She didn't want to hear his voice. She didn't want to remember the way he'd looked at her in that wedding venue — like she meant nothing. Like she'd never meant anything at all.

And yet, some part of her… still trembled.

She wasn't trembling for Adrian. She was trembling for who she used to be. The girl who believed love was enough. The girl who thought forever looked like him.

But she wasn't that girl anymore. She was someone's wife now — even if it was just by contract. Even if her heart didn't know where it stood yet.

She glanced at Leo from the corner of her eye. He hadn't spoken again, but his expression was hard, unreadable.

Did he expect her to answer?

Did she want to?