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MELANIE

"I'm leaving."

That's it.

If this was a month before, or two months before, or even way back, I'd cry and beg him to stop.

But what he doesn't know is that there's only too much shit a woman can take before she flips and says no.

A strange, eerie numbness washes over my entire body as I walk straight past the broken cake, past the pink buttercream smeared on the counter, and pick up Milan from the sofa. She instantly wraps her tiny arms around my neck, clinging to me like a lifeline, her little body trembling against mine.

"Where do you think you're going?" Saint demands, crossing his arms, a smirk playing on his lips like he thinks I'm bluffing. "You have nowhere to go, Melanie. Your family arranged this marriage. They won't take you back if you run away over a fight."

I ignore him, walking into Milan's nursery. I grab her diaper bag, throw in a pack of wipes, a couple of outfits, her favorite stuffed bunny, and my purse.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Saint yells, standing in the doorway of the nursery. "Put her down and stop being dramatic!"

"Get out of my way, Saint," I say, my voice sounding completely dead and nothing like mine.

"You leave this house tonight, and you don't come back," he threatens, his eyes darkening. "Do you hear me? You walk out that door with my daughter, and you'll regret it."

I don't look at him. I hold Milan tightly against my chest, shielding her face against my shoulder so she won't have to look at him, and brush right past his shoulder.

I walk out to the garage, hit the door opener, and strap Milan into her car seat in the back of my SUV. She's still sniffling, her little hand reaching out to hold my finger.

"Mommy's here, sweet pea," I whisper, kissing her forehead. "It's okay. We're going for a ride."

Saint stands in the doorway leading into the garage, watching me with his arms crossed.

I get into the driver's seat, start the engine, and back out into the night air without looking at him once in the rearview mirror.

My hands grip the steering wheel tightly. As the automatic garage door slowly closes, shutting Saint out of sight, a single tear slips down my cheek.

I have no plan. I have nowhere to go. Heck, I know that I might go back to him after a few days and the heat has subsided... but I just cannot bring myself to sleep in that house tonight.

My phone has been buzzing in the cup holder for ten miles before I finally answer, hoping against hope it's someone who cares if Milan and I are breathing.

Instead, my mother’s voice comes screeching through the speakers before I even hit the speakerphone button.

"Have you lost your mind, Melanie?!" she shrieks, not even bothering with a greeting. "Saint called your father ten minutes ago! He told us you threw a hysterical fit over nothing and packed up his daughter in the middle of the night! What is wrong with you?"

I squeeze the steering wheel, tears blurring the red taillights of the car in front of me. "Mom, please... he was screaming at me. He threw things. He snatched Milan out of my arms and..."

"He is your husband!" she snaps, cutting me off. "Men have tempers, Melanie! You know how much stress he’s under trying to keep that family’s empire running! You are supposed to be his safe haven, not a child throwing tantrums! Why are you so bent on disgracing this family?"

"Disgracing?" My voice cracks. "Mom, he’s cheating on me openly! He brought home pregnancy tests on Milan's birthday and told me not to leave the bathroom until I had good news! He doesn't care about me!"

"Then give him a son and he won't look elsewhere!" she yells back without a shred of empathy. "You think life is a fairy tale? Your father and I arranged this marriage to secure your future and ours. You swallow your pride and you go back to that house right now!"

"I'm not going back," I whisper, my voice trembling. "Can... can Milan and I come stay with you tonight? Just for a few days until..."

"Absolutely not," my mother says coldly. "If you step foot in this house, I will call Saint myself to come pick you up. You do not bring your marital drama to my doorstep. Fix this, Melanie, or don't bother calling me."

The line goes dead.

A shuddering sob tears out of my throat. I pull the SUV onto the shoulder of the road, burying my face in the steering wheel as the silence of the car presses in on me.

In the backseat, Milan stirs, letting out a soft, sleepy whine.

I wipe my face with the back of my hand, forcing myself to pull it together. Focus, Melanie. She needs you. I pull back onto the road and search for the nearest hotel on my navigation screen, settling on a quiet, high-end boutique hotel near the downtown harbor.

Ten minutes later, I'm carrying a half-asleep Milan through the polished marble lobby, her head resting against my shoulder, her arms wrapped around her plush rabbit.

"Welcome to The Sterling," the receptionist says with a polite smile as I approach the front desk. "Checking in?"

"Yes, please," I say, trying to smooth down my disheveled hair with one hand. "Just a standard room with a king bed for tonight."

"Of course. I'll just need an ID and a credit card for the room and incidentals."

I reach into my purse, pull out my driver's license and my black Amex card... the one linked to Saint’s primary account... and hand them over. The receptionist swipes the card on the keyboard.

Then, the machine lets out a harsh, double beep.

The woman frowns slightly, running it again. Another double beep.

"I'm sorry, ma'am, but this card was declined," she says gently, looking up at me.

No. I don't want to believe that he blocked it.

"Oh... um, let me try another one," I say, my voice rising as humiliation burns hot against my cheeks. I fumble through my wallet with fingers, pulling out three other cards... a Visa, a MasterCard, and a store card. "Try these. Please."

She swipes the second one. Beep-beep.

The third. Beep-beep.

"I'm so sorry," the receptionist says, her tone dropping into that pitying, professional softness. "None of these are going through."

"Please, there has to be a mistake," I beg, clutching Milan tighter as tears threaten to spill over my eyelashes again. "My daughter is just two. It's midnight. I just need a place for us to sleep for a few hours. I can call the bank in the morning..."

"I'm really sorry, but without a valid card, I can't issue a room key."

The lobby feels suddenly suffocating. I can feel the eyes of the night staff on me... a woman in a rumpled dress, holding a tired toddler, with a wallet full of useless plastic.

"Right... of course," I whisper, choking back a sob. "I'm... I'm so sorry for the inconvenience."

I turn around blindly, hugging Milan close to my chest as tears finally overflow, obscuring my vision completely. I take two fast steps toward the exit, needing to get out into the cool air before I completely break down.

But then the next thing I know, I collide straight into a wall of solid, broad muscle.

The impact knocks me back a step, my foot slipping on the slick marble. "Woah... I've got you," a deep, smooth voice rumbles above me.

Warm, firm hands instantly catches my waist, steadying both me and Milan before I can fall.

The scent hits me immediately. A scent I'll recognize anywhere. I stumble back, my hands coming up to rest against his chest as I look up through a blur of tears.

Broad shoulders. Strong, sharp jawline. Dark, intense eyes staring down at me with concern.

My breath hitches in my throat.

"Alex?" I breath.