Page 144 of My Real Love Affair

He nodded, silently prompting me to continue.

“I opened it and there was a folder with your name.”

He frowned. “My name? What was it?”

“I didn’t open it. I wasn’t sure if it was a hacker or spammer. Malware. I deleted it.”

“Good. But why is it bothering you?”

“It just—it felt weird. Wrong. Like someone was trying to mess with me. With us.” I ran my hand through the water, watching it slip through my fingers. “And I know I did the right thing deleting it. But I can’t stop thinking about it. About what could have been in that folder.”

His expression darkened as I spoke, his lips pressing into a thin line. For a moment, I thought he might be angry at me for bringing it up, or at whoever sent it.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“That my last name is already starting to haunt you.” He ran a hand through his hair. “With the kind of wealth my family has, we’re used to being targets. People try stuff like this all the time. Phishing emails. Blackmail attempts. People claiming to have dirt that doesn’t exist.”

“Really?”

“Really. It happens more often than I care to admit.” He took my hand. “You were absolutely right not to click it. Who knows what could have been inside? Malware. A virus. Something designed to access all your data.”

“Ugh,” I muttered. “The last thing I need is someone getting into my phone.”

“I imagine you have a lot of private content on it. For work. Personal photos. Passwords.” His thumb rubbed circles on my palm. “Clicking those kinds of links can expose everything to people who will use it against you.”

My stomach churned at the thought. All of my private conversations with Cleo. Photos I would never want public. Access to my cloud account.

“I should have better security,” I said.

“I’ll help with that. There’s software I can have installed on your phone. Protective measures. My whole family uses it.” He squeezed my hand. “I should have thought of it sooner. Should have realized you’d be a target by association.”

“By association with you?”

“With me. With my family. With the Bancroft name.” He looked genuinely troubled. “I’m sorry, Melody. I never wanted my baggage to become yours.”

Hearing him explain the logic behind it made me feel better. Lighter. I eased deeper into the tub, the hot water soothing tense muscles. “I’m glad I told you.”

“I’m glad you did too.”

“I was overreacting. Making it into something bigger than it was. I should have just told you as soon as I got it. I’m a drama queen.”

“You weren’t overreacting. Your instincts were right. Something felt off, so you didn’t engage with it. That’s smart.” He brushed a strand of wet hair from my face. “But you can tell me anything.”

I looked at him—really looked at him. I saw the concern in his eyes. The tenderness in his touch. The way he’d run me a bath and sat with me and listened. He ran up to get me wine and candles and had even chosen perfect bath music.

That was a good man. I realized he was right. There was nothing shady going on. Just someone trying to mess with us and failing.

I curled my finger, beckoning him closer. “Join me.”

“In the tub?”

“In the tub.”

His eyes darkened. “Melody, I didn’t do all of this for that. I really want you to enjoy yourself. Relax. Unwind. I’m not going to bother you. Soak. Relax. I’ll be waiting.”

“Please. I don’t want space right now. I want you close.”