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Malcolm kneels in front of him, threatening him with his very presence. “Why the fuck not?”
“It was live,” he says in a tiny voice. “It’s already out there.”
I gasp, tears coming to my eyes immediately. Oh no…so now everyone knows what is going on with me? I quit the diner, got evicted, broke up with Adam, and disappeared off the face of the earth.
All of that is bad enough, but now the information is out there for anyone to see—the information that I’m shacking up with billionaire Malcolm Mayfield after ditching his son. If people thought I was a gold digger because of Adam, I bet it’s basically a fact in the public eye now.
This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.
I can’t stop the tears from rolling down my face, and when I dash them away, I notice that Malcolm is only looking at me now, the man on the floor forgotten.
He’s only around ten feet away from me, but it feels like the distance is stretching and stretching until there are miles between us.
I stand, legs shaking, and turn to leave. I have to get out of this room, away from the reality of what has just happened, and get some space to breathe.
There’s only one set of doors, and Malcolm manages to grab me by the arm before the staff opens them for me, spinning me to face him and grabbing my chin gently with one hand.
“Melody, stop,” he says, forcing me to look at him. “This changes nothing.”
“How can you even say that?! Of course, it doesn’t change anything for you, Malcolm! You’re a billionaire! This kind of stuff is nothing to your reputation, but I will never be able to escape this scandal as long as I live!” I have to keep wiping the tears away, and I know my makeup must be running. “I have to get out of here.”
His grip on me tightens, and he forces me to look deep into his eyes. Anger is creasing his brow, but there’s a determination there, too. If only it was enough to make me feel safe right now. “No, you don’t. You’re mine, and I take care of what is mine, remember?” Malcolm’s voice gets deeper as he speaks, the seriousness of his words evident in his tone.
Just then, the reporter, who’s still dazed on the floor, lets out a miserable groan. Malcolm’s head snaps around, and he looks to his staff and tells them simply, “Get rid of him. He doesn’t leave with the phone, either.”
Then he looks down at me again. Malcolm isn’t the sort of man to ever say sorry, but I can almost see the words in his gaze right before he bends at the knees and sweeps me up into his arms in one smooth movement.
I barely have time to yelp before he’s kicking the dining room doors open and striding with a singular purpose towards the staircase to the second floor.
All of his guests are still here, but he ignores them all, and so do I. I’m mad that he has the audacity to just pick me up and carry me wherever he wants, but on the other hand, it gives me the chance to hide my face in his shirt and screw my eyes shut.
I know the names of a lot of the people here tonight, and I can’t stand the thought of being humiliated in front of people like that.
So instead, I keep my eyes closed and let Malcolm carry me, pretending this isn’t all happening right now.
I feel when his feet hit the stairs, and then in seconds, Malcolm shifts me to one arm so he can open the door to his bedroom suite. When I hear the door click into place, I finally feel safe enough to open my eyes, right as he deposits me on the bed.
My heart is broken, and my pride is wounded to the point that I feel like I’m falling apart. Malcolm stands over me, still dressed in his suit, breathing heavily—not from carrying me but from the height of his emotions. His rage.
Even with the tie on, he looks like he’s ready to storm into battle, cutting down enemies with a sword or something.
Malcolm Mayfield is a man out of time, yet he’s managed to bend this era to his will easily. This is a man no one wants to cross.
Malcolm crosses his arms and raises one eyebrow. “Better?”
“How exactly is this better?” I huff, adjusting my skirts and sitting up fully.
He waves a hand at the empty room around us. “We’re alone, away from that piece of shit reporter and anyone else that might want to gawk at you. You’re safe now.”
I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Malcolm, come on. You are aware that removing me from the situation doesn’t change what just happened, right?”
“I still don’t see what the problem is,” he grits out, jaw tight. “Our relationship was going to become public knowledge tonight, so who cares? Adam and all his dumbass ideas can go to hell. He’s no son of mine at this point.”
“It’s different. We were in control of the narrative, and now it’s completely out of my hands. Everyone is going to know that I ditched a billionaire's son for the billionaire himself, that I quit my job for him, and that it all just so happened to be right when I was evicted and desperate for a place to stay. I couldn’t write a better description of a gold digger if I tried, and that’s what everyone is going to think of me!”
Despondent, I let my face fall into my hands and cry in earnest, the sobs wracking my body. I hear Malcolm curse and bend down in front of me, pulling me into a hug.
It only makes me cry harder. I want to be with him so badly because the only place I’ve ever felt safe and happy was in his arms.
