Chapter 73 The Deserts flower wilts
Melissa’s POV
I needed to get out.
The walls of the penthouse seemed to close in around me, the crystal chandeliers suddenly too bright, the laughter too loud, the air too thick. My chest felt tight, like someone had wrapped bands around my ribs and was slowly squeezing.
I pushed through the crowd of people, my breath coming short and shallow gaps. Bodies pressed against me. Someone tried to hand me a champagne flute. I brushed past them without looking.
“Melissa?” I heard someone call. Maybe Jason. Maybe Mom. I didn’t stop to find out.
My heels clicked sharply against the marble floor as I made my way to the entrance. The security guard at the door opened his mouth to speak, but I was already past him, pushing through into the building’s lobby.
The cold night air hit me the moment I stepped outside.
It cut through the thin fabric of my emerald dress and raised goosebumps along my exposed arms and shoulders. I welcomed it. Welcomed anything that felt real, that pulled me out of the suffocating performance I’d been trapped in all evening.
I wrapped my arms around myself and crossed the street toward the parking area, my heels were unsteady on the pavement. My breath came out in small white clouds. The sounds of the party faded behind me, replaced by the distant hum of traffic and the whisper of wind through the bare trees lining the street.
And leaning against a beat-up sedan that looked even more pathetic under the streetlights was Troy. His arms were crossed over his chest, that familiar smirk plastered across his face.
The same smirk that used to make my stomach flutter but now made bile rise in my throat.
“I knew you would come, my little desert flower,” he said, his voice smooth and confident as he pushed off the car.
He walked toward me with that swagger I used to find attractive. Now it just looked desperate. Pathetic.
He leaned in to kiss me.
I turned my head sharply to the side, his lips grazing my cheek instead. The touch made my skin crawl.
“What are you doing here, Troy?” My voice came out harder than I intended, but I didn’t care.
“What am I doing?” He laughed, the sound grating against my ears. “I’m here for what’s mine. What’s always been mine.”
Before I could step back, his hand shot out and grabbed my face. His fingers dug into my cheeks, squeezing them together between his palm like I was a child who needed to be disciplined.
“So,” he said, his voice dropping to something darker, more menacing. His breath was hot on my face, smelling faintly of beer and cigarettes. “To think you were hiding such a juicy secret. I didn’t know you were such a slut, Melissa. Kissing your stepfather? That’s a lot. Even for you.”
My stomach dropped, my blood turned to ice in my veins. I had hoped it was a dream but it wasn’t. He had the video.
“Delete the video, Troy.” My voice came out muffled through his grip “I’ll give you the money you asked for. Whatever amount. Just delete it. Please.”
“Oh, I’ll delete the video when I want to, Melissa.” He squeezed harder, his nails digging crescents into my skin. I could feel them breaking through, could feel the sharp sting. “You don’t get to tell me what to do anymore. Those days are over. You understand me?”
He shook my face slightly for emphasis, like I was a doll.
Then he released me suddenly, and I stumbled backward, my hand flying to my burning cheeks.
“I expect to see you at my house,” he continued, his eyes dragging slowly down my body in a way that made me feel dirty, and violated. His gaze lingered on the beading of my dress, on the way the fabric hugged my curves. “When? Let’s say… next week. I’d prefer it sooner, obviously. But let’s start from there. Sounds good, my little flower?”
He reached out again, and I flinched before I could stop myself.
He noticed. His smirk widened.
Then he tapped my face twice…pat, pat.
He turned and walked back to his car, almost tripping on a rock.
The engine sputtered and coughed, taking three tries before it finally caught. He shot me one last triumphant smirk through the dirty window, then drove off into the night, leaving a trail of exhaust fumes in his wake.
I stood there in the cold, watching his taillights disappear around the corner.
I noticed I was shaking.Not from the temperature. From pure, rage.
My hands clenched into fists at my sides so tight my nails cut into my palms. My vision blurred at the edges, everything tinged red. That absolute piece of shit. That pathetic, manipulative, disgusting piece of shit thought he could threaten me. Thought he could control me.
I blinked hard, forcing down the tears that threatened to spill. Forced down the scream building in my chest. Forced down everything except the cold, burning anger.
I couldn’t fall apart here. I took a shaky breath, then another, trying to steady myself.
Then I turned back toward the penthouse.
I was about to step. I saw Gavin walking from behind the house towards the garden area.
He stood in the garden area just outside the building, partially concealed by shadows and the decorative hedges that lined the pathway. His blue eyes locked onto me the moment I turned around.
He looked worried. Actually, genuinely worried.
“Are you okay, Melissa?” His voice was careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal.
I walked toward him, my heels crunching on the gravel path with each step. My dress swished around my legs. My breathing was controlled, measured, even though my heart was racing.
When I reached him, I pressed one hand flat against my chest, feeling my heart hammering against my palm through the beaded fabric.
Then I looked up at him. I raised my other hand slowly and cupped his face, my touch gentle. My thumb brushed across his sharp cheekbone
His blue eyes searched mine, confusion flickering across his beautiful features.
“You know,” I said softly, “I was really pissed off tonight. My ex shitty boyfriend is like a bone stuck in my neck. My perfect life is going to hell.”
His brow furrowed slightly. His lips parted like he was about to speak…
“But you happened to be here on time.”
I raised my leg and kicked him square in the balls with every ounce of strength I had.
His eyes went wide with shock and pain. All the air left his lungs. His hands instinctively flew to his groin as he doubled over, a choked sound escaping his throat.
Before he could even begin to recover, before he could catch his breath or straighten up, I kicked him again…this time in the side. My stiletto heel connected with his ribs with a satisfying thud.
He went down, crashing onto the grass with a heavy impact that I felt through the ground.
“If I ever see you close to Gavin again,” I said, my voice low and deadly calm as I stood over him, “I’ll kill you.”
I took a step closer, looking down at his form sprawled on the ground.
“And if you touch me without permission one more time,” I continued, each word precise and sharp as a blade, “I’ll drag you to hell myself. Do you understand me?”
I stood there for another moment, my chest heaving, adrenaline coursing through my veins like fire.
Then I calmly reached up and adjusted my hair, smoothing down the strands that had come loose during the confrontation. My hands were steady now. My breathing was evening out.
I turned on my heel and walked back toward the penthouse, my dress swishing elegantly.
My head was held high.
My spine was straight.
My face was a perfect mask of composure.
And I didn’t look back.
Not even once.