Spencer stepped into the room, his sharp gaze sweeping over the space. It looked the same—yet different. The furniture was still in place, but the rest of the things had already disappeared. The dressing table full of her things was empty. He frowned. He'd lived in this room barely a week and yet, it seemed he'd observed and remembered too many things.
He had already noticed the maids clearing out the clothes and personal belongings when he left to receive his grandfather. Now, standing here, he felt an uncomfortable weight over him.
His eyes landed on Melanie, who was now picking up her purse from the bed, ready to leave.
"What were you talking about, Melanie?" he asked in a measured voice. "What do you know about the will and the divorce?"
Melanie turned and smiled, slow and knowing. "Why?" she asked lightly. "Are you afraid I'll cause trouble for you?"
Something in her tone grated on him. Here he was worried about her and considering hurting the person he loved for her, and she was taunting him!
Swiftly, he closed the distance between them, his hand wrapping tightly around her arm before she could step back. "Don't even think about it, Melanie," he said, his voice low and cold. "I don't know how you found out or what you think you know, but if you try to make things difficult for me, I won't spare you. I will make you regret every breath."
He pulled a set of documents from his pocket and threw them onto the bed without even turning his head. "Here. Since you already seem prepared for this, these should suffice for now."
Melanie inhaled sharply as her gaze landed on the divorce letter., trying to wrench her arm free. His grip didn't loosen. A flicker of something—pain or frustration—crossed her face, but she didn't look away. Instead, she held his gaze and asked the one question that had been haunting her since she had uncovered the betrayal he had dealt her.
"Did you ever love me, Spencer? Even if only for a moment?" She held her breath as she tried to think of an answer. This was his last chance for forgiveness. SHe'd already decided to shake hands with Adam but if Spencer had really loved her, she would do her best to be kind...
"When we met and you asked me out... that wasn't because of the will, was it? Your grandmother was still alive then."
She looked into his eyes, reminding him of those days and waited for his reaction as his eyes became clouded as if trying to think back.
On the other hand, Melanie's quastion stilled him. For a moment, Spencer said nothing.
When he had first met Melanie, he had been drawn to her. She had carried herself differently—untainted by greed or pretense. She had intrigued him.
The way she had visited his grandmother every day, speaking to her with genuine warmth. The way she had laughed, light and unguarded. The way she had refused his expensive gifts without a second glance—yet had accepted a box of chocolates without hesitation, as if the simple gesture meant more than any luxury ever could.
Their dates had been enjoyable. Easy. She was beautiful. Intelligent. An interesting woman, the kind he might have eventually indulged in for the sake of entertainment. And of course to have se* with. She was quite a beauty of course. The only reason he'd held back initially was her innocence and then later, when he'd decided to marry her, it was the guilt. At night, seeing her sleep next to him, he'd been tempted to pull her into his arms and kiss her.
She would have given herself to him. So easily. But he'd held back, fearful of causing any more obstacles in his way. After all, he wanted a clean break after tonight.
As for love? No. That had never been part of the equation.
He met her gaze, his expression unreadable. And then, he gave her the only answer he could. "No," he said emotionlessly, before adding," Not even for a moment." And then, he let her go, looking at her expression.
Surprisingly, there was no reaction. No flicker of shock, no visible pain. It was as if she had already prepared herself for this answer, bracing for the inevitable.
That realization unsettled him more than he cared to admit. He had expected some resistance—an argument, some crying perhaps, or even just a fleeting look of disbelief. But there was nothing. Just quiet acceptance.
Ignoring the strange unease creeping into his chest, Spencer spoke, "Sign the papers, Melanie. Then come downstairs later." He paused, watching her carefully. "Grandmother's extended will is being read in a few hours, followed by the party. Whether you choose to attend or not is entirely up to you."
He turned to leave, but her voice stopped him just as he reached the door. "What if I refuse to divorce you?"
The question was almost defiant.
Spencer exhaled through his nose, then turned back, a slow, knowing smile curving his lips.
"It won't make a difference to me, Melanie," he said smoothly. "But tell me—have you enjoyed living here with my mother for the past three years? Because I doubt it."
He let the words sink in before continuing, his voice carrying a touch of amusement.
"You don't want your life to become more difficult, do you?" His gaze locked onto hers, unreadable but the threat in his voice was evident. "So, like the good girl you are, come downstairs witht he signed papers and wait. Five o'clock sharp."
He reached for the doorknob, then glanced back, as if remembering something.
"Oh... and Grandfather will be there," he added, his voice laced with something almost mocking. "You'd better greet him properly. And don't get any ideas, Melanie."
His eyes darkened slightly, his smile still in place, but colder now.
"Don't think you can involve him and cling to me. Am I clear?"