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Novel Catalog
Chapter_79
Meeting Melanie Alone
I hesitated for a moment before answering Melanie’s call, already bracing myself for the usual tone that would follow. “I have something to tell you. Let’s meet.” Her voice was as sharp and commanding as always.
“Why didn’t you tell me that when you were at my place just now?” I shot back, not wanting to play her game.
“It concerns us, not something suitable to say in front of the others. Come to Midnight Bar now!” she demanded before hanging up abruptly, not leaving me a chance to respond.
I stood there holding my phone, wondering what on earth Melanie could want now. She wasn’t the type to just chat casually. Still, I needed to know what she had to say, so I got up from bed and checked the time. It was almost noon, which seemed odd because a bar would typically be empty during these hours. But I couldn’t ignore the opportunity to hear what she had in mind.
I quickly decided to change, pulling on a pair of jeans, a simple T-shirt, and flats. I thought about calling Ivanna to have someone know where I was in case things went wrong, but she was out of town. Hesitantly, I reached for my phone and called Atlas. But as the dial tone rang, I reconsidered—Melanie knew I had met with him before, and I didn’t want to complicate things further. I hung up and drove off.
The bar was underground, tucked away in the kind of hidden spot people usually went to keep their actions discreet. I had never been here before, so the dim lighting and narrow stairway made me uneasy. The closer I got, the more my discomfort grew, but I pushed through.
Once inside, I took a moment to adjust to the dim yellow lighting that bathed the room in a soft glow. A bartender, who looked far too young for this place, was behind the counter cleaning glasses. The bar wasn’t open yet, but the atmosphere still felt… off.
I walked over to him and asked, “Sir, I’m here to meet someone. Is this place open yet?”
He barely looked up as he pointed across the room. “She’s in the back,” he muttered disinterestedly. I glanced in the direction he indicated and saw a long corridor lined with rooms, each one leading further into the shadows.
“Which room is she in?” I wanted to ask, but the bartender seemed too busy to care. Without another choice, I began walking through the corridor, checking room after room. Each one was eerily quiet, and as I moved deeper into the bar’s maze-like layout, my unease grew.
I was about to turn back when a door at the end of the hall opened suddenly, and out stepped Melanie. Her bright smile didn’t reach her eyes, and her laugh was sharp, like it didn’t belong.
“Well, I didn’t expect you to arrive so quickly!” Her words didn’t sound welcoming at all. In fact, there was something unnerving in the way she said them. I bristled as she took a step toward me, as if to grab my arm. I pulled back instinctively, refusing to let her get too close.
“What do you want to tell me?” I asked, my voice steady, though the discomfort in my chest was rising.
I pushed the door open with my foot and glanced inside. The room was empty, quiet, and unassuming. Still, something didn’t feel right. I walked in and sat down on the couch, not bothering to hide the wariness in my gaze.
“I’m listening,” I said, crossing my arms and meeting her gaze.
Melanie followed me in, her hips swaying with a confidence she clearly thought was alluring, but to me, it was nauseating. Suddenly, it clicked why Matthew was drawn to her—her boldness, her wantonness, her ability to manipulate. I saw it now, and I finally understood why he had called me “stiff.” Because compared to Melanie, I wasn’t willing to play games.
She plopped down beside me on the couch, a glass of wine already in her hand. Her eyes gleamed with excitement, joy, and something far more sinister. She poured a generous amount of red wine into my glass before offering it to me.
“Chloe, I knew you’d come as soon as I called you. I’m sure you’ve never been here before, right?” She flashed me a wicked smile. “Take a guess for Matt.”
I stared at her, unsure if I should indulge her twisted game or cut straight to the point. But before I could speak, she added with a laugh, “You must be wondering how far you’ve fallen in this little family of ours.”
I didn’t answer, though the words hit harder than I wanted them to. Instead, I reached for the glass she handed me, not to drink, but to put it down, trying to take control of the moment.
“So, what’s the real reason you wanted to meet?” I asked, finally cutting through the surface pleasantries.