Chapter 5: The Keal Estate

Melody's POV

I decided to pay Mr. Summer a visit.

I used to think arranging a meeting with such a big figure would be hellishly difficult, I’d even prepared to resort to those “special measures” if necessary.

But I hadn’t expected the approval email with the Summers watermark to arrive so quickly.

Keal’s home was a veritable fortress of security..

My black SUV had to pass through two layers of heavy security checkpoints where we slammed with a barrage of questions.

When we finally got to the building and stepped out of the car, there was an ominous feel. The entire area was dead quiet, with only the occasional rustling of leaves breaking the silence.  

Mr. Vance dabbed frantically at his forehead with his polka dot handkerchief. It was almost drenched right through. He’d been sweating profusely from the moment our car entered the secure perimeter of the private estate.

"God have mercy," he muttered, clutching his briefcase. "I can’t believe I’m doing this. Visiting Keal Summers? This is outside my job description.”

“It will be fine,” I replied, taking in the building as we approached.

“Fine? You know the man’s a lunatic, right?”

“You’re the one who added him to my list of eligible bachelors,” I said, my tone teasing.

“Yeah well, when you marry him and inherit your fortune, I’m raising my rates. I’m literally putting my life on the line. You’re not paying me enough for this.”

"Relax, Vance," I said, rolling my eyes. It was dusk, and as such, the area was cast in a blue tinge. “He’s just a man.”

The front door swung open before we even reached it. Two bodyguards in black suits with earpieces appeared.

“We’re here to see  Mr. Keal Summers,” I said.

“We know who you are,” one of the men said dryly. “This way.”

The bodyguards led us down a long, mirrored corridor. Our reflections bounced around at us from every angle as our footsteps echoed loudly. Before long, we stopped at an elevator.

“Step inside,” a bodyguard instructed.

Mr. Vance and I remained silent as the elevator sped right to the top with a speed I’d never experienced in an elevator before. The bodyguards stood the entire time, their hands folded over one another in front of themselves.

Stepping out of the elevator, I saw that we were in some sort of library with incredibly high ceilings. There were floor-to-ceiling windows on all four sides, offering a panoramic view of the city lights below. The room was dimly lit, with only a floor lamp in the corner.

The air smelled of cigar smoke and woody, thick cologne.

In the center of the room sat a man on a dark leather sofa. Even in the dim light, I could see his tailored black shirt with open collar.  His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his defined, muscular forearms.

He wasn't looking at us, though. He was looking down, his eyes fixed on a document that he was casually flipping through.

When the elevator door made a ping sound, his hand stopped.

"Melody, I presume."

He looked up at me. His voice was low, ripe with the lazy arrogance of a man who was clearly used to giving orders. Meeting his gaze, I saw that his eyes were a deep blue-grey, like the color of a sea before a storm. They cut through the dim light.

"So you’re the long-lost heir of the Wentworth family," he said in the same arrogant tone. “I’m curious to know what brings you here. I don’t get many female visitors these days.” He chuckled, a low, mocking laugh.  

Behind me, I heard Mr. Vance’s breath hitch in his throat.

"I’m here to offer you a business proposition, Mr. Keal," I said, stepping into the room, allowing the lamp to illuminate my face.

"Is that so?" He let out a short, sharp laugh. Then he eyed me up and down before leaning back into the sofa. He slung one arm over the back of the chair and crossed his legs in a relaxed posture. "I own a trillion-dollar empire. What can someone like you possibly have to offer to me?"

I lifted my chin and met his gaze. His expression was both pompous and curious at the same time. He raised and eyebrow and made a sweeping motion with his hand.

“Well…I’m waiting,” he smirked.

"You need a wife,” I declared.

“Do I now?” he replied, smiling sardonically.

“Yes,” I nodded. “Your board is nervous. There are too many rumors circulating about you. The old-school bankers in Europe think you're too unstable. Some even think you’re dangerous. It’s only a matter of time before you start losing backers.”

“And a wife will help me how?” he asked. He uncrossed his legs and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees.

“I can provide you with a stable social public image. If you marry me, you can prove that you’re a ‘normal’ man. A family man even. It would be advantageous on all accounts, as far as I can see.”

I paused, watching his expression. The corner of his lips tugged into a smile.

“And what’s in it for you?” he asked.

"And I need a name,” I replied. “As you know, I’m up for a big inheritance from a very wealthy family. But my step-mother…she’s trying to stop me from getting it. So I need to marry someone with a name that holds weight. A name that will make my monster of a step-mother tremble when she hears it.”

“And I have that name,” he said, nodding with a bemused expression.

“You and no one else,” I replied.

Keal narrowed his eyes. The playful look vanished.

"So, a marriage of convenience," he said, standing up.

He was taller than I expected. As he walked toward me, I resisted the urge to recoil from the weight of his presence. He came close, too close. I could smell the tobacco on him, could see the stubble on his chin.

"You want to use my family name as a shield,” he said, looking down at me. “To protect your inheritance. And there may be some truth to what you say about my public image. But I could hire a Hollywood actress to play the role of ‘doting wife’. They’d be far more obedient and a hell of lot prettier than you. So tell me again. Why should I marry you?

Forcing myself to look up at him, I smiled.

"Because I bring something to the table they don’t,” I said. I was about to reveal my biggest playing card and butterflies swarmed in my stomach. "I’m offering you something you’ve been trying to buy for three years and haven't been able to get."

I saw his pupils contract.

"My father, Edmonia Wentworth, left me more than just 120 billion dollars in cash. He also left me the original patent to the Quantum Encryption Core. The patent is part of the inheritance. I know for a fact that your tech department has been trying to buy that algorithm. But you’re blocked by regulatory red tape and hostile Wentworth board members."

He tilted his head to the side, pressing his lips together.

"Marry me,” I said, forcing my voice to sound confident even though my stomach was a mess of nerves. “The patent will become our joint property. The Summers Group will own the core tech directly."

The room fell into dead silence.

His gaze shifted from dismissive to deeply intrigued.

"You did your homework," he said.

"I’m a businesswoman, Keal. Of course I did."

He suddenly reached out and lifted my chin. I kept my gaze locked on his, refusing to flinch.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Melody," he said, his eyes landing on my lips.

"It’s not a game." I forced myself not to blink. "It’s a partnership."

He stared at me for ten solid seconds before he released me.

"Alright," he said, taking a step back. "I accept."

Vance made a choking sound behind me.

"But," Keal held up a finger. "I have conditions."

He turned his back on me and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling window.

"First, you move into my estate. If we’re going to be husband and wife, we must live together."

"Done," I said immediately.

"Second," he spun back around, his eyes burning. "Never lie to me.”

“I won’t,” I agreed.

“Good. Then that brings us to the final condition. You cannot, under any circumstance, fall in love with me."

I almost laughed out loud. Fall in love? After Adam? After five years of lies? That wasn’t going to happen.

"Don't worry, Keal," I said, smoothing my collar. "I'm not looking for love. I’m looking for revenge. Plain and simple."

His eyes narrowed.

“Then we have a deal,” he said, extending his hand. 

**

Keal Summer’s POV

The door clicked shut behind her.

Casual blazer, flat shoes. Familiar in the way a half-remembered song. The moment she turned away, the sight of her back confirmed to me that she was completely different. She’s more professional, and more fearless.

Then the door swung open again that cut my thoughts. Richard, my assistant, strode in wearing the face he reserved for funerals.

"Sir." He kept his voice low. "I looked into it. Melody Wentworth has been in the Georgia group home since she was four. Never fostered out, never adopted." He paused for effect. "Sir — you're not seriously considering marrying her?"

“She isn’t HER.” My jaw tightened.

All the air went out of him at once. One hand found his chest. "Oh thank God. I mean, marrying some woman for the sake of some quarter-something patent and a meagre inheritance left by an old man?" He shook his head. "I knew you wouldn't."

I didn’t reply, just stared at him, a faint half-smile playing on my lips.

“Book me the earliest marriage registration slot this week.”

Before his jaw could drop, the folder Richard was holding fell to the floor.