I swallowed the lump in my throat, unsure how to respond. Before I could say anything, Kyle returned and gestured for me to follow him inside.
The villa hadn't changed in a day, but everything felt different. I wasn't just a guest anymore. I was his wife. And with that title came a strange, invisible weight.
As I walked through the grand hallway, I noticed rose petals trailing from the entrance up the staircase. I raised an eyebrow. "More petals?"
Kyle smirked slightly. "Maria's idea. She's annoyingly romantic."
I chuckled lightly. "She means well."
We reached the floor where our rooms were but instead of taking me to my room he took me to his, I swallowed hard, his room felt empty and lonely, all white painted, no portrait of flowers, no design just his magnificent king sized bed and closets. I guess, and I paused at the door. "Do you… want me to move here officially?"
Kyle looked at me, that unreadable gaze softening just a little. "You're my wife now, Medley. This is your home and your room. You belong here."
The word "belong" echoed in my mind.
I stepped inside, glancing at the room and my cheeks flamed. It was no longer his room, but ours. I smiled faintly. He followed me in and pulled off his jacket, tossing it on the chair casually.
"Get some rest," he said. "I'll be downstairs if you need me."
Before I could respond, he leaned down and kissed my forehead gently. My heart did a full somersault.
I watched him walk away, closing the door softly behind him. And for the first time in a very, very long time… I didn't feel so alone.
*Kyle's POV*
The door clicked shut behind me, but the echo of her presence still lingered in the air.
Medley.
Now my wife.
I made my way down the grand staircase, slowly unbuttoning the cuffs of my shirt. The villa was quiet, save for the occasional hum of the security system or Maria moving about the kitchen.
I poured myself a glass of scotch from the bar and leaned against the marble counter, staring into the amber liquid as if it held answers to all the questions I hadn't dared to ask.
What the hell am I doing?
This wasn't part of the plan. But now? There was something different about her. Something raw, fragile, but infuriatingly strong at the same time. She didn't beg for affection. She didn't throw tantrums or pretend to be someone she wasn't. She simply… was. And that unnerved me more than I'd ever admit.
I took a slow sip and turned toward the large glass windows overlooking the garden. The same one I'd seen her in, smiling for the first time.
That smile had stuck with me.
I should've let her go. Should've handed her over when Matthew called. But I couldn't. I wouldn't.
Not now.
Not after seeing the fear in her eyes masked by stubborn pride. Not after hearing her whisper "I do" like a silent promise she wasn't even sure she meant. And definitely not after last night, after feeling her tremble under me, not from fear… but trust.
My phone buzzed on the counter. Mike's name flashed on the screen.
"Yeah?" I answered.
"What do we do about Mr Baron," Mike said. "He's now your father-in-law."
I let out a quiet laugh. "Indeed he is"
"Do you want me to inform him about the marriage?"
"No. make an appointment with him in my name, I will meet him before the trip. I might be in the mood to talk to him before then."
"Understood."
I hung up and stared at the staircase.
Medley was up there. Probably sitting on the edge of the bed, playing with her fingers, overthinking everything. The idea made something shift in my chest. An urge I hadn't felt in years.
I needed to protect her.
Not because she was part of my plan… but because somewhere along the way, she became my person.
And I wasn't letting anyone take her away.
Not her father. Not her past.
Not even me.
I won't let anyone take her. I already gave her my words and I must keep it.
She was his now.
And he had every intention of keeping it that way. He gulped down the alcohol in his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
*Stuart Baron's POV*
He slumped on the couch when he got home, his fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white. The rejection still rang in his ears, not just from Mike, but from Kyle himself, without even having the decency to say it to his face. Remembering Mike's words
"He's not around as we speak."
Stuart blazed, he knew a lie when he heard one. And that was a damn lie. He thought to himself
But more than that, it reminded him of one bitter truth.
He had lost control over his daughter.
Medley. The one he thought he could manipulate with silence, break with distance, and control with fear. And yet, she'd gone straight into the arms of the one man even he wouldn't dare cross.
Wade.
He ran a hand through his slicked-back grey hair, trying to collect his spiraling thoughts. "Five million dollars," he muttered. "I offer five million and she still won't come home?"
But this wasn't about the money. Not anymore. It was about Kyle.
"Why on earth did she go to him for help instead of coming home?" He asked himself
He pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang once before the receiver picked up.
"I need eyes on Wade. Around the clock. I want to know everything, who he meets, where he goes, how he breathes. And I want leverage. Find me something. Anything, he has my daughter and I want her back by all possible means."
He ended the call, his reflection catching in the glass, still composed, still powerful.
But inside?
He was seething.
Because no one, no one, takes what belongs to Stuart Baron.