The Contract Bride of Westwood

Leonard's POV 

Leonard watched her from the doorframe, arms crossed.

Melanie.

It was strange how easily her presence had started to feel normal. Just days ago, she'd been a stranger—clinging to him in a drunken haze, whispering the name of a man who wasn't him.

And yet now, she walked the halls of Westwood Manor like she belonged here.

Maybe—just maybe—she did.

He still remembered the hotel room. The quiet sobs. The desperate grip on his shirt. The way her broken voice had cracked through the walls he'd carefully built over the years. That night had been meant to be a fluke. A one-time escape for both of them. But it hadn't been.

Not for him.

He told himself it was a business transaction. A contract marriage that benefited them both. Something clean. Contained.

But the truth?

He hadn't been able to get her out of his head since.

And now, she was here. Sleeping under his roof. Wearing his ring. Smiling at him as though none of it was forced.

His wife.

Contractually.

At least, that's what she believed.

Leonard pulled his gaze away and adjusted his tie. Melanie sat at the dining table, eating her breakfast—quietly, like always—but already dressed for her first day at Harrington Institute. She wore a soft lavender blouse tucked into high-waisted jeans, her dark hair pulled into a loose ponytail. There was a kind of nervous excitement glowing in her expression.

She looked… radiant.

He stepped into the room and cleared his throat.

"I'll be dropping you off this morning."

Melanie looked up in surprise. "You don't have to. The driver—"

"I want to."

She hesitated for a second, then gave a small nod. "Alright."

***

The car ride was quiet at first. Leonard drove, his fingers loose on the wheel, while Melanie sat beside him, looking out through the tinted windows. She kept fidgeting with her fingers—nervous.

He noticed everything about her now. The way she chewed the inside of her cheek when thinking. The way her shoulders tensed every time someone mentioned her sister.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"A little," she admitted, her voice soft. "It's been a while since I did something just for me. Rose always took center stage."

His jaw tightened at the name. He didn't like Rose. Didn't trust her. The few interactions he'd had with her during Melanie's humiliation had been enough to know she was manipulative—dangerous.

"You deserve this," he said, voice firm. "You're talented. You always have been."

Melanie turned to him, confused. "How would you know that?"

He gave her a faint smile. "I do my homework."

A soft, surprised laugh escaped her lips. It was genuine, and it did something to him—something he couldn't quite explain. He'd built his world on order, control, and silence. But she was none of those things. She was chaos wrapped in gentleness, and somehow, it made him feel... alive.

As they neared the school, the roads got busier. Students walked with sketchbooks and portfolios in hand, chatting excitedly. The world of color and dreams. So far from the steel and politics of the world he ruled.

Melanie reached for the door handle, but Leonard tilted slightly toward her.

"Aren't you forgetting something?"

She blinked. "What?"

"A thank-you peck. That's the least I deserve for getting you in."

Her cheeks turned pink. "Excuse me?"

"I'm your husband. It's not a crime."

She rolled her eyes but leaned in, pressing a small, quick kiss on his cheek.

"There. Happy now?"

His lips curled into a smirk as she stepped out of the car, flustered.

Leonard didn't drive off immediately. He sat there for a moment, watching her blend into the crowd.

Something warm spread through his chest—and for once, he didn't fight it.

***

Melanie's POV 

The morning had gone smoothly.

Her classes were engaging. The instructors were kind. She'd even made small talk with a few classmates. For the first time in a long while, she felt like herself again—not someone's leftover or shadow. Not the girl who got dumped three days before her wedding.

She was Melanie.

A student. A designer. A wife.

Even if it was temporary.

She was heading toward the design wing when a familiar voice sliced through her peace.

"Well, if it isn't the charity case."

Melanie stopped.

Rose.

She turned slowly. There her sister stood, perfectly made-up as always, flanked by two girls from her social circle. The moment their eyes met, the laughter around her died down.

Melanie's jaw tightened. "Funny. I don't see anyone laughing."

Rose's smile was cruel. "Still playing the victim? Does Leonard know the real you yet? Or are you still pretending to be sweet and innocent?"

"I don't have to pretend," Melanie replied calmly. "That's your game, remember?"

Rose's eyes narrowed. "He'll get tired of you. Just like Adrian did."

Melanie stepped closer, her voice cold and steady. "You mean the same Adrian who married you out of guilt? Or the one who couldn't even look me in the eye after what you both did?"

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Rose's face.

"I spent years letting you step on me to feel taller. But not anymore," Melanie said. "You don't get to define who I am."

She turned and walked away, not giving her sister the satisfaction of a second glance.

***

After her last class, Melanie wandered off to explore the quieter corners of campus. Behind the main building, she found a garden—lush, private, lined with rose arches and stone benches.

She exhaled, letting herself breathe in the calm.

Then she saw him.

A tall figure leaned casually against one of the archways, arms crossed, dressed in black. His hair was tousled by the wind, his stance relaxed. But his eyes—icy grey—watched her with interest.

"You must be Melanie," he said.

She stopped in her tracks.

"Do I know you?"

"Not yet." He pushed off the arch and walked toward her. "But you can tell Leonard…" He paused, lips curling into a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

"Aaron said he's back."

Her heart skipped a beat.

There was something about him—something unreadable. Dangerous.

"Who are you?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

He tilted his head, amused. "You'll figure it out soon enough."

And just like that, he turned and vanished into the trees, leaving behind a cold breeze and a hundred questions.

Melanie stood frozen.

Aaron?

Who was he?

Why did Leonard need to know he was back?

And why did Leonard's name in his mouth sound like a threat?