CHAPTER 4

She wanted a new life. She wanted peace and even that she didn't get. Melody stared into the mirror. Same eyes, same jawline, same scar on her upper lip. But the girl looking back didn’t feel like her. She was thinner now. Worn. A faded watercolor of the woman who once commanded entire rooms with a smile and a brushstroke. Her phone vibrated on the counter, the tenth time that morning. She didn’t check it. She knew the name. She knew the words would ache. “I’m sorry,” “Let’s talk,” “Please.” But what did apologies matter when the damage had already been framed, hung, and auctioned off to the highest bidder? She threw the phone into a drawer and slammed it shut. Out of sight, out of reach. But not out of mind. She cut her hair the next day. A blunt bob, jet black. Something unlike her. She switched her signature red lipstick for a shade called Quiet Rose. A lie of a name. Nothing about her was quiet anymore—not the headlines, not the whispers in gallery halls, not the silence in her father’s voices when he disowned her. Her agent dropped her. Her father refused to let her step foot into the family’s gallery. Even the press releases referred to her now as Melody, the fallen prodigy. And truthfully, she didn’t fight it. Because somewhere deep inside, she believed she deserved it. She packed her brushes away in soft cloth. Wrapped her old canvases in newspaper and shoved them into the storage unit behind her flat. The studio lights hadn’t been on in weeks. And still, somehow, the space smelled of failure. Two weeks later, she bought a one-way ticket to Florence. A master’s in Art History. A fresh start. She used to make art, now she would study it. It makes sense to her. Florence wasn’t about art. It was about distance. A place where her name didn’t sting, where she could be just another girl carrying heartbreak in her luggage. She sent a single email before leaving: To: Gallery Board & Family Subject: Departure “I’ll be gone by Friday. I don’t expect your blessings. I only hope the silence stops echoing once I’m out of reach.” She didn’t sign it with love. There wasn’t any left to give. GREENCITY ESTATE BEL AIR. A quiet estate in Bel Air, Ethan Lennox stood at the edge of the apartment and his engagement as well. He looked like he just walked out of a magazine page. Condescending. Regal. Bored. No more bored than he always seemed to be. The grand Perry residence had always been too clean. Too polished. Marble floors, sculpted hedges, and art pieces chosen not for their soul but for their price tag. Emily Perry, heiress to Perry Capital, walked like she knew the floor would hold her, always. She was stunning. Elegant. Educated. And utterly wrong for him. Their engagement had been a business deal dressed in diamonds. Emily’s father wanted someone with a longer lineage, just so to protect his dying one. Ethan's mother wanted a daughter-in-law who could double as a brand ambassador. And he… wanted out. He didn’t expect the one night situation he had to be the one to hand him the key. A call came in where he stood gazing at the fleet of luxury at his feet. It was the girl who shared the bed with him at the hotel during Peltz latest exhibition. He declined the call the first two times just before a message came in. “I’m pregnant.” The text read without hellos and pleasantries. He scanned his thoughts until the realization hit him. Peltz Art and Life Exhibition, the girl he hooked up with. At least that was the most recent encounter he has had. He blinked. “What?” He didn't text it, he sent a voice message. “We did it raw. And I thought you deserved to know” Fiona typed. He felt the walls shrink. The world tilted. The girl who had been a mistake one night , so he thought. The girl he wasn’t supposed to feel anything for—was now rewriting his entire life. “I need time to think,” he said out, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Still leaving the message as it was. Maybe, maybe this wasn’t about a baby. Maybe this was about an exit. A way out. Because truth be told, he’d been looking for one, even if handed it to him in a ribbon of guilt and consequence. By the time Emily returned from her spa retreat in Sedona, the decision had already been made. Emily Perry, dazzling in white linen and Prada sunglasses, sipped her tea as he repeated the news he had already passed to her through his assistant. “You’re what?” she said, voice cold as her iced chai. “I’m calling off the engagement.” He made clear, his eyes not wavering from her even as she pulled off her sunglasses. She tilted her head, but her eyes didn’t flinch. Almost like there was no cause for love, almost like she just wanted the title of his surname. “Because of a girl you knocked up?” She barely got the answer she wanted. Emily stood, placed her cup down, and laughed—once, short, cruel. “I should’ve known you’d find a way to crawl out of this without a backbone. Good luck with the peasant. But don’t think for a second that father will forgive this little scandal. I won’t either.” She left without waiting for a response and he watched her go, wondering if he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. Or the first real decision he’d ever owned. While somewhere across the world, on a cramped international flight, Melody stared out at the clouds, praying the skies held peace, or at least anonymity. She didn’t know what came next. She only knew that it wouldn’t be him. Not anymore.