Passion's Crossfire

Chapter 80

Adam

"Man, that's great news," Marcus exclaims, genuine excitement in his tone. I can't help but grin, knowing he's sharing in the relief. "Finally, Matt won't be a threat to Mallory."

"Exactly," I reply, my voice filled with gratitude. "It's been a long time coming. Now we can all move forward without that constant fear."

Marcus agrees, acknowledging the difficulty Mallory faced while hiding. "Must've been tough on her," he remarks.

"Yeah, you have no idea," I admit. "But now, it's all over. We should celebrate. Get everyone together at the apartment, what do you say?"

There's a moment of hesitation in Marcus's response. "Yeah, sure," he finally agrees, but his tone lacks the enthusiasm I expected.

"I thought you'd be thrilled," I remark, curious about his subdued reaction.

He sighs, and his voice carries a hint of frustration. "Things haven't been exactly great with Melanie," he confesses. "We started dating—mind-blowing sex, by the way—but suddenly she started avoiding me. Then Mallory disappeared, and she never responded when I tried to reach out, to see how she is."

My eyebrows furrow in concern. "Did you do anything on your dates that might have put her off?" I ask, trying to understand the situation.

"No, not that I'm aware of," Marcus replies. "I've been racking my brain, trying to figure out if I did something wrong, but nothing comes to mind. I really like her, Adam, and if I messed up, I want to make it right."

"Look, I'll talk to Mallory about it," I assure him. "But you have to understand, Melanie is her sister. If you hurt her, Mallory won't be happy."

Marcus groans, acknowledging the delicate situation. "I know, I know. But I have to know. If I did something wrong, I want to make it up to Melanie. I really like her."

"I'll see what I can do," I promise. Marcus thanks me and we exchange a few more words before ending the call.

I place my phone on the coffee table with a heavy sigh. I hope he didn't do anything stupid; Melanie means a lot to him, and I don't want complications. Rising from the couch, I make my way to the bedroom, to change into something more comfortable. I opt for a worn-in pair of dark sweatpants that fit just right and a faded black T-shirt that feels soft against my skin.

Just as I finish dressing, the doorbell rings. Who could it be now? My mind immediately jumps to the worst-case scenario—my mother. I glance at the clock; Mallory will be home soon. Panic sets in. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

With a sigh, I head to the door, bracing myself for the possibility of facing my mother's unwelcome visit. I open the door, and there she stands, looking at me with an intensity that fuels irritation.

"What are you doing here?" I grunt, my tone reflecting my frustration.

Ignoring my standoffish stance, my mother steps into the apartment, as if the threshold means nothing to her. I stand my ground, not inviting her in. "Where do you think you're going?" I ask, a hint of irritation in my voice.

She glares at me, her frustration matching mine. "I've had enough of your childish behavior," she snaps, her tone demanding. "You will quit your job and come home immediately. It's time to start working for your father, take on the family business."

I shake my head in refusal. "You can't tell me what to do. Please, leave now." I assert,

"Your father doesn't know anything. He'd be nothing if it weren't for me," she insists with an air of superiority.

"That's rich," I retort sarcastically, my anger simmering beneath the surface.

She stomps her foot down, a futile attempt to solidify her argument. "It's the truth, Adam, and you have to listen to me," she insists, her tone unwavering.

"No, I don't," I yell, frustration boiling over. I've had enough of her attempts to control my life.

"Yes, you do!" my mother screams, her voice sharp and demanding. "If you don't, I'll make you," she threatens, a tone of determination in her words.

I scoff, anger and frustration bubbling inside me. "What will you do now, Mother?" I mock her. "Pay the company I work for to fire me? How will you sabotage my life this time?" I challenge, refusing to back down.

"I'll do whatever I have to," she declares, her eyes flashing with determination.

"Stop meddling in my life!" I yell, my frustration boiling over. This has gone on long enough.

"I am not meddling, Adam. When will you finally see that? You are behaving like a spoiled little boy."

I shake my head, exasperated by her inability to see her own interference. She starts rummaging in her purse, a sign of her relentless persistence. Pulling out a small velvet box, she opens it to reveal a sizable diamond ring. "I got you this. You will give it to Eleanor Vanguard; she will love it," she declares, a hint of satisfaction in her tone.

"Are you joking right now, Mom?" I can't believe what I'm hearing. "You can't say that you are not meddling in my life and then give me a ring to propose to a girl I don't love!" I protest, my frustration turning into outright anger.

"Oh, grow up, Adam. What's love got to do with anything?" she retorts, a cold indifference in her voice.

"It has to do with everything, Mom. EVERYTHING. And I won't give up on it," I declare, my voice unwavering. "I am in love, you know, and this time I won't let you hurt her. I will spend the rest of my life with that girl, and God help you if you dare try anything on her," I warn, my tone resolute.

His mother is momentarily stunned by my vehement declaration. "You're seeing someone?" she stammers, her composure slipping.

I run my hands over my face, wearied by this confrontation. "Yes, I am,"

"Who is she?" she demands, her eyes narrowing with suspicion.

"I will introduce you to her, but you must behave. She is the one for me; she makes me happy. You have to accept that I am with her," I assert, my tone leaving no room for negotiation.

"You won't be for long," my mother shouts before abruptly leaving the apartment, slamming the door behind her. Threats? Seriously? The nerve of that woman.

The realization hits me like a ton of bricks, and frustration courses through my veins. My mother now knows about Mallory. Damn it, not even 24 hours after Matt's verdict. I had hoped for some peaceful days, but no, my mother had to come barging in. I can't catch a break. A ring for Eleanor Vanguard? Unbelievable. I start pacing in the living room frantically, trying to process the mess that has unfolded.

The door opens, and Mallory enters. "Baby, I'm home!" she calls out cheerfully. Her smile fades when she sees me pacing, and she approaches me with worry etched on her face. "Adam, what's wrong?"