Chapter 6

Michael adjusted the cuffs of his suit as he stood before the worn-down door of Melanie Watson’s house. The place had always disgusted him—the lingering stench of cheap liquor, the peeling paint, the creaky wooden steps that threatened to collapse under the weight of disappointment. It was a house that reflected its owner perfectly—bitter, broken, and desperate for control.

He knocked sharply, irritation flickering in his sharp blue eyes as he waited. When the door finally swung open, Melanie’s cold gaze swept over him, but this time, there was something else in her expression—worry.

"Michael," she drawled, forcing a smile. "I didn’t expect you here."

"I don’t have time for pleasantries," Michael snapped, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. The house was dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of stale cigarettes and forgotten dreams. He pulled two envelopes from his coat, placing them on the wooden table with a controlled slam.

Melanie’s smile faltered as she reached for them, her fingers trembling slightly.

"The wedding invitation," Michael stated coolly. "For Adaline. And this—" He tapped the second envelope. "—is the divorce paper she needs to sign. I need her signature immediately. No delays."

Melanie’s lips parted, her eyes narrowing as she folded her arms. "And what about the thing we agreed on?" she asked, her voice low but firm.

Michael’s expression darkened, and he let out a bitter laugh. "All this time I stayed with that useless woman, waiting. And you kept saying it wasn’t time yet." His eyes burned with resentment. "She couldn’t even give me a child so we could claim what we agreed on. I wasted years."

Melanie sighed, rubbing her temples as she muttered, "It’s not my fault my barren daughter couldn’t give birth. But you should have still gained her trust. If you had been loving to her, she never would’ve left. And now, after everything, you say you can’t stand her anymore?"

Michael scoffed, stepping closer, his voice dropping into something dangerous. "You think I should’ve kept up the act forever? I played along long enough. And for what? Nothing. I have no reason to keep up this farce anymore."

Melanie clenched her jaw, knowing she was losing control of the situation. "If you walk away from this now, Michael, everything we planned—"

"Everything we planned?" he cut her off, his voice sharp. "It’s done, Melanie. Over. I’ll make sure Adaline signs those papers, and after that, I don’t owe you anything."

Melanie’s fingers drummed against the table as she eyed Michael, her expression unreadable yet charged with something dark. Silence stretched between them before she finally spoke, her voice low and measured.

"Do you remember what you did two years ago?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. "Because I do. And if you don’t do as I say, I will bring it to the spotlight. You’ll be arrested before you can even think of escaping it."

Michael’s lips curled into a slow smirk. "You think you’re untouchable in all this? You didn’t just watch, Melanie. You joined me." He leaned forward, his voice laced with quiet amusement. "So, if I’m going down, you’re going down with me."

Melanie’s eyes flickered, but she quickly masked any sign of hesitation. Instead, she straightened, her voice firm. "Then don’t be a fool. Just explain to Adaline that your mistress is only meant to give you a child—nothing more. She will accept it eventually, and you’ll still get to enjoy what we started and aimed for two years ago. You get what you want, and nothing has to change."

Michael knew exactly what she was doing—threatening him, cornering him into playing along with her scheme. But he wasn’t a man easily controlled.

He leaned back, considering his next move. Justin had just promoted him, and soon, his earnings would skyrocket. Once that happened, he wouldn’t need Melanie’s influence or her twisted plans anymore.

One day soon, he’d get rid of her. And this time, she wouldn’t see it coming.

Michael exhaled sharply, his mind racing. He needed to be careful. For now, avoiding direct confrontation was the best move. If playing along with Melanie’s demands would buy him time, then so be it. But he wouldn’t let her control him forever.

His fingers curled into fists before he finally spoke, his voice firm yet laced with warning. "Fine. You have three days, Melanie. If you don’t find her by then, I won’t care about this anymore. I’ll wash my hands of it completely."

Melanie met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "I’ll find her as fast as I can. Just be ready when I do."

Michael didn’t respond. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode toward the door, leaving behind the suffocating stench of stale cigarettes and desperation. He had bigger things to focus on, but for now, he would let Melanie handle Adaline. She wanted to play the savior? Let her. It saved him the trouble.

The moment the door slammed shut behind him, Melanie wasted no time. She reached for her phone, her fingers moving swiftly over the screen as she dialed Adaline’s number. The call rang twice before a cautious voice answered.

"Mom?" Adaline’s tone was wary, hesitant, as if bracing for another cruel remark.

Melanie’s lips curled into something close to a forced smile, though no one was there to see it. She softened her voice, adopting the role of a concerned mother. "Adaline, you need to come back. Michael wants you back. He’s sorry for what he did, and he’s ready to make things right."

Silence. A long, heavy silence stretched between them.

Then, Adaline’s voice came through—steady, deliberate, and shockingly calm.

"I already arranged the divorce papers."

Melanie froze. Her grip on the phone tightened, her carefully constructed words dying in her throat. This wasn’t what she expected.

Her mind scrambled for a response, but the only thing she could focus on was the sickening realization creeping up her spine.

Adaline wasn’t playing along.

For the first time, her daughter had made a move against her—and she wasn’t sure how to counter it.

Her voice sharpened in an instant. "Stop this dumb play, Adaline. Do the right thing! You think you can survive on your own? Where will you stay? How will you feed yourself? You have nothing, and if you don’t go back to Michael now that he’s apologizing, you’ll regret it. Or have you forgotten about Mr. Thomas? You either go back to Michael or—"

"I’m good on my own, Mom," Adaline cut in, her tone unwavering. "And tomorrow, I’ll be in court filing for divorce. Goodbye."

Before Melanie could spew more threats, the line went dead.

Melanie stared at the phone in disbelief, her fingers tightening around the device in anger.

Adaline had finally defied her.