Melody POV
The notification had been sitting in my inbox for two days.
I stared at it now, sitting on the edge of the creaky bed in my small warehouse room, heart sinking lower with every reread. The university's message was short and painfully formal:
"Your enrollment has been suspended due to non-payment of fees for the upcoming term. Please contact the finance department to resolve the balance owed."
I swallowed hard. That was it. No class schedule. No course outline. No chance of showing up next term and pretending everything was fine.
My throat tightened as I leaned back against the wall, trying to breathe slowly. All this time, I had told myself I could handle everything. I thought I was strong enough to juggle my hunt for answers, my family trauma, Marvis, and still be a normal student.
I was wrong.
I clenched the phone in my hand. Every part of me wanted to cry, scream, maybe throw it across the room. But I couldn't afford to fall apart now. Not again.
Still, the thought of letting this go…letting school go…hurt more than I expected. Law had been my anchor since my parents died. It was the one thing that gave my life structure, a purpose beyond grief and vengeance.
Now, that anchor had been cut loose.
My stomach twisted. What would I even say to Marvis?
He wasn't the kind of person you just walked up to with bad news. He was cold, careful, and always ten steps ahead. But I had to tell him. He needed to know, especially if I'd be around the warehouse more.
By late afternoon, I found him in the strategy room, hunched over some plans with two of his men. They left as soon as they saw me walk in. Marvis didn't look up until the door closed behind them.
He was wearing his usual black shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows, and his watch glinted in the overhead light. That quiet authority hung around him like always but today, I didn't care.
"I need to talk to you," I said.
His eyes flicked to mine. "Talk."
I took a slow breath and stepped closer. "My next term at university was cancelled."
That got his full attention. His posture stiffened slightly, but his voice remained neutral. "Why?"
"Because I haven't paid for it," I said, arms folded, trying to keep my voice steady. "I thought I had time. I didn't realize how far behind I was."
A long silence passed between us.
He looked at me not with anger, not even disappointment, but that unreadable look I hated so much. As if he was calculating what to do with the information. Not how to comfort me.
"I know I should've handled it," I added quickly. "But everything has been so… twisted lately. And I didn't want to ask you for help. I still don't."
Marvis stood slowly, then walked over to the bar table near the corner of the room and poured himself a glass of water. His silence gnawed at me.
"I didn't come to ask for money," I said again, firmer this time. "I just wanted you to know. I'm staying here longer than I planned, and I didn't want to lie about why."
He finally turned around. "You think I care about the money?"
His voice wasn't loud, but something in it sent a chill through me. He wasn't angry, but his tone was sharp like I'd insulted him.
"I'm not your burden, Marvis."
"No," he said flatly. "You're not. But you are my responsibility, whether you like it or not."
I blinked. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means," he stepped closer, placing the glass down gently, "that I don't just sit back and watch people I care about fall apart."
My heart stumbled. "So now you care?"
He didn't answer immediately. His eyes bore into mine, and for a second, I thought he might say something raw. Something honest.
Instead, he said, "Send me the balance."
"I just said-"
"And I just said I don't care about the money," he cut in smoothly. "You want to finish school? Then finish it. If your parents were alive, they would've paid. I'm not them, but I'm not going to let you throw your future away either."
My throat tightened. His words spoken so plainly hit harder than any lecture or comfort I expected.
For a while, we stood in silence. The warehouse air buzzed with quiet tension, but there was something warmer underneath it this time. Not quite peace, but understanding.
I nodded slowly. "Okay. But just this once. I'll find a way to pay the rest myself."
His lips twitched not quite a smile, but something close. "You always say that."
I couldn't help the faint grin pulling at my lips. "Because it's true."
He stepped back, giving me space. "Good. Now go rest. And next time, don't wait so long to tell me when something's wrong."
I didn't answer. I didn't have to.
Because in that moment, even though my academic future had crumbled. I wasn't alone. And somehow, that made all the difference.