Chapter 7

7

MALCOLM

S tanding alone on the cold balcony, I let the chill seep into my bones.

Ever since that damned reporter leaked the connection between Melody and Adam, everything has changed. She's still here, physically, but it's as if a shadow has fallen over us—a shadow I can't seem to dispel.

I take a deep breath, my gaze drifting over the snow-covered landscape. This past week has been a whirlwind of emotions, and I can't help but feel that I'm losing my grasp on Melody.

She's here, but her laughter doesn't reach her eyes anymore. Her smiles are forced, her responses distant. I've found her with tears in her eyes on more than one occasion, and each time, it's like a knife twisting in my fucking gut.

My fingers graze the black velvet box that I've been carrying in my pocket.

Inside rests a solitaire 2-carat diamond ring—the one I had intended to propose to her with after the charity dinner. But that night turned into a catastrophe, and the ring has remained untouched, waiting for the right moment.

Well, tonight is the right moment. I'm tired of waiting, of tiptoeing around our feelings. Tonight, I plan to propose to her and claim her as mine. Adam, the public opinion, and anything else standing in our way be damned.

God, she means so much to me. I never thought I could feel like this, but here we are. She's turned my world upside down in the best way possible.

I'm possessive by nature, and with her, that instinct has only grown stronger. The thought of her with anyone else drives me to the brink of madness.

Inside the box lies a symbol of my commitment to her, a promise of forever. I pull it out, watching the light catch on the diamond. She'll say yes. Of course, she will. She's my Melody, my girl.

She might not have said the words yet, but she's come close…I know she loves me. I have to keep that fact at the forefront of my mind before I lose control and tear this whole house around me.

Because I love her. Dammit, I do. And if she doesn't love me, then fuck the world. Fuck everything. Even if she doesn't, I'll spend the rest of my life changing her mind. Melody won't get rid of me that easily.

She and I need to get back to the way we were. I've planned a romantic evening in New York City, a few hours away from the mansion.

The top floor of an expensive hotel is ours for the night, and every detail has been meticulously arranged to sweep her off her feet.

Hours pass, and it's time to go.

I meet Melody in the foyer. Our luggage is already loaded into my Audi, so it's just her. No other distractions. She looks stunning in her little black dress, a vision that could stop any man in his tracks.

But there's something in her eyes, that damned distance that won't leave.

The only time I feel like she's truly with me anymore is when we're fucking. Then, the mask slips, and she's alive and whole in my arms. It's heaven, but I need her like that all the time.

I need to pull her out of whatever it is that's sucking her happiness. I don't care what I have to do, but I will get it done. Anything for my girl.

We drive in silence, the tension thick. She fidgets with her clutch, her gaze often drifting out the window. My fingers tighten on the steering wheel, worry gnawing at me.

This night is important—a night I've been looking forward to as a chance to break through the barriers between us.

Up in the presidential suite, the air is filled with the aroma of a gourmet meal prepared by a personal chef. Melody looks around, a hint of excitement in her eyes, especially when she sees the steaming hot tub on the balcony.

Relief hits me like a tidal wave. Melody approves, and she's genuinely happy. That's what matters.

We have dinner right away. She chooses salmon, while I opt for filet mignon. We make small talk, and while she's more open than before, there's still a barrier between us.

She sips water instead of her usual sweet wine, and I feel the weight of her distance.

"Enough," I finally declare, dismissing the personal chef with a nod. I take Melody's hand, my touch gentle yet firm, and lead her out to the balcony.

The snow falls softly around us, but there are radiant heaters to keep us warm.

Her gaze avoids mine, and tension radiates from her. "Melody," I say firmly, my voice carrying an edge of frustration.

She's silent for a moment, her fingers fussing with her dress. My patience wears thin, a mixture of worry and anger simmering within me. And then, in a surge of frustration and desperation, I let the words spill from my lips.

"You're distant, closed off. I can't stand it. What's going on?" I growl, the frustration that's been building within me finally escaping.

"It's not on purpose," she insists quietly.

"Then talk to me. Tell me what's the problem instead of putting up walls between us," I snap, not even caring that my temper is flaring. This is me, and she needs to accept all that I am. Anger is passion, and my passion for her is the strongest thing I've ever experienced. "You're pulling away. I can't stand it because I fucking love you!"

She freezes, her eyes widening, and for a moment, the air is charged with an electric energy. She steps back, her lips parting as if she's about to speak.

But before she can say a word, something shifts within her. Without warning, Melody turns and rushes back into the suite, leaving me standing bewildered on the balcony.

I don't follow her, confusion and hurt warring within me, but she returns quickly enough, clutching her purse.

And then, in an instant, she's in my arms, her lips finding mine in a kiss that's a whirlwind of passion and longing. It's as if all the walls between us have crumbled in that moment, and I'm consumed by her touch, her taste, the way she clings to me as if she'll never let go.

"Melody," I growl against her searching lips. "Melody, I don't know what the hell is going on."

"Say it again," she begs between kisses. "Say that you love me."

Fuck it. "I love you."

Melody's eyes fill with tears, but her smile is as bright as the city lights. It's in that moment of vulnerability that she takes out something from her clutch—an unmistakable positive pregnancy test.

My mind goes blank, my heart racing as the reality of what she's showing me sinks in.

"I'm pregnant," she whispers, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and hope.

The world around me seems to spin as I accept the test from her trembling hand. Stunned, I feel all emotions at once—the shock of the news, how much I love her, and the realization that she's only been distant because she's been trying to figure out how to tell me that she's pregnant with my child.

"Malcolm," she breathes. "Say something. You look like you're frozen."

She thinks my shock is only about the pregnancy test, but she doesn't know the full truth. With shaky hands, I pocket the test and retrieve the black velvet box—the engagement ring meant for her.

I drop to one knee, my gaze locked with hers, my heart thundering in my chest. "Melody, you just gave me a wonderful surprise. The perfect gift. But the real reason I brought you here was to ask you to give me the honor of becoming my wife. I've always known your place was beside me. Sweetheart, will you marry me?"

Tears fall down her cheeks as she gazes down at me, her voice soft yet full of affection. "Malcolm, I?—"

I can't wait any longer, can't bear the distance between us.

"I love you, Melody," I admit, my voice husky with emotion. "More than I've ever loved anyone or anything. You're everything to me."

Her breath catches, fingers covering her mouth. And as she stands there, frozen in the moment, I open the box, revealing the engagement ring.

"I love you too," she finally manages, her voice trembling. "And yes. I'll marry you. Oh my god, yes! I'll marry you!"

With her answer hanging in the air, I slip the ring onto her finger, the diamond catching the soft light of the suite. Our eyes lock, and in that instant, everything falls into place—the doubts, the fears, they're all meaningless.

Because this…this is all that matters. She is all that matters. Her and our child. Our child .

As I rise to my feet, she takes a hesitant step forward, her gaze unwavering as if she's seeing me for the first time all over again.

And then, before she can fully comprehend what's happening, I pull her to me, crushing my lips against hers in a kiss that's equal parts passion and tenderness.

It's a kiss that seals our love, our commitment, and our future. It's a promise that despite the challenges and uncertainties, we're in this together—forever.

And as the snow continues to fall, I hold her in my arms, my heart filled with fierce possessiveness and burning love. I know that I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe, to keep her mine. For always.