Betrayed By Husband, Stolen By Brother In Law
Chapter 144: What?

Chapter 144: What?

Everyone had come for a scoop—but what they got instead was truckloads of ice cream. Melting, rich, headline-worthy news that would feed their columns and blogs for days, maybe weeks. It wasn’t just a scandal—it was a full-blown media storm, complete with confessions, audio evidence, and a public unravelling no one had anticipated.

As the conference room erupted into a frenzy—voices clashing, cameras flashing, reporters barking questions over each other—Melanie stepped off the stage. Like someone who had just finished what she came to do, she didn’t look back. Or even wait to answer a question. And strangely, no one stopped her. They were all too stunned.

As if everyone had woken up at once from a shared trance, reporters bolted forward, rushing toward Saira, who was still seated in shock. Her mouth opened but no words came out. Her careful plan had collapsed right in front of the world. And now, that world had turned on her. She turned her head to look at Sir Collins but he was sending her a look that screamed disgust.

She moved to catch his arm but the older man walked away after sending a disappointed but warning look, as if to remind her that she better not implicate him in her downfall.

Microphones were shoved into her face. Flashes nearly blinded her and even as she tried to move, a barrage of questions followed.

"Miss Vaughn, care to comment on the audio?"

"Was this all fabricated from the start?"

"How do you respond to claims of blackmail?"

"What will you do if Mrs Collins’ decides to pursue legal action?"

She tried to get up, but they cornered her, surrounding her like a wave she couldn’t wade through.

At the far end of the room, Adam stood still, watching it all unfold. His eyes, however, were not on Saira. They were on Melanie—now disappearing down the corridor. For a long moment, he didn’t move. But then, almost as if a switch flipped inside him, he turned on his heel and walked out.

He kept his distance, trailing just far enough behind to avoid drawing attention, but never letting her out of sight. Behind him, the reporters were still swarming around Saira. He heard none of it.

Melanie didn’t look back and he knew that she was going to leave soon.

As soon as she reached the parking lot, Adam closed the gap between them and caught up. Without a word, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.

She didn’t protest. She didn’t even flinch.

That’s when it hit him.

She knew.

She had known all along that it was him under the mask. That all of this—the reveal, the timing, the execution- whatever she had done was for him. Without a word, he escorted her to the car and they drove off without a word.

They drove in silence.

Melanie didn’t speak. She didn’t even look at him. Just leaned her head back against the seat, eyes closed. He sent occassional glances her way but then simply concentrated on reaching home. There were things he wanted to say and ask but right now, he had no words.

Thankfully, the circus from morning had already disappeared from the doorstep and everything was quiet outside. As he stopped the car, he wanted to ask Melanie how she knew everything and when she found out but she was already getting off the car.

Hurriedly, he stepped off the car and followed her, watching her slow movement as she opened the door to the house. For the first time, in his life, he felt uncertain. Was she angry at him that he had not told her everything? Or that he had allowed Saira to engulf in a scandal like this?

Unable to stop himself, the moment Melanie stepped into the door, he followed her and banged the door shut. In the next minute, in a single move, he grabbed her wrist, pulled her to himself and then pushed her agaist the door, imprisoning her between himself and the door, his body pressed against hers.

Their eyes met and, in her eyes, he finally saw the trust he had yearned to see when Saira had first accused him. But not found it anywhere. He didn’t know if she’d always known the truth or she’d trusted him but that look, seemed to heal so many of his old wounds.

His grip on her waist tightened and her name lift his lips in a whisper as he leaned into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. A shudder ran through him as he felt her arms come around him and simply hold him.

For another long moment, neither of them spoke and Melanie could feel his heart beating close to her, fast and unsteady. The tension in his frame, the way his grip tightened as if he needed something—anything—to hold onto. She didn’t pull away, didn’t question him. She simply stood still, and patted his back, letting him know that she was there for him.

She could feel the weight of his emotions in the way his body stiffened and then softened. She didn’t need him to say it. She didn’t need to ask. She already understood.

He stayed there, still pressed against her, face buried in the crook of her neck as though he could disappear into her skin. Then slowly, his lips brushed her shoulder. A light kiss, soft and tentative—like he was asking for permission he didn’t dare voice.

She didn’t move.

So he kissed her again. This time more firmly. A little longer. His breath was warm against her skin and she shivered. In a voice barely audible, she breathed his name," Adam..."

She pushed lightly at his chest, not in anger, not even to really move him—just enough to remind him... of something. What that something was she had no idea as she felt him pepper her neck with soft butterfly kisses.

He stepped back. Not far. Just enough to look into her face. His hands stayed on her arms, his fingers curling gently, like he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Their eyes met again. And this time, the silence wasn’t heavy—it was electric.

Then, without a word, he leaned in.

And kissed her.