Chapter 120 - Grayson’s POV

I tapped my fingers rhythmically on my desk, silently counting the seconds and fighting the growing irritation. For eight minutes, relentless sniffing had punctuated the silence every three seconds. I’d tried—really tried—to remain composed. My mantra—"Be patient, she’s Ava’s friend"—was wearing thin. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore.

“Stop crying, Eliza,” I said, letting irritation seep into my tone.

She sniffed once more, raising her tear-streaked face before glancing back at her trembling hands. Sighing, I softened my voice. “Look, I’m not mad, and I’m not firing you. But you need to cooperate. Your boyfriend used you to get information about me, and his payer refuses to talk.”

My wolf growled, imagining what it would do to that man. I pushed the thought aside. There were more pressing matters.

“I need to know what Jeremy told him so I can figure out what I’m dealing with. That’s it—answers.”

That had been my plan when I called her in, but she immediately burst into tears. Normally, I wouldn’t have the patience. I could have used every resource to find Jeremy or resorted to threats, but I wanted to be better for Ava. She wouldn’t approve, and I didn’t want to disappoint her.

“You promise you won’t hurt him?” Eliza’s voice wavered.

“I just want to talk to him,” I assured her, keeping my tone even.

She hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands before she nodded. “He’s hiding at his grandparents’ farm. He’s terrified. He didn’t mean for this to happen, Mr. Blackwood. Please… he only took the money to help his mother.”

Helping his mother. I understood that sentiment. I considered her words. My wolf growled softly, dissatisfied but silent.

“You can take the rest of the day off,” I said, standing and grabbing my keys.

She looked up, startled. “Thank you, Mr. Blackwood.”

I left the office and was about to enter the elevator when Liam called my name. I turned, noting his forced smile.

“It feels like ages,” he said, attempting casualness.

“Maybe because you’ve been avoiding me since you learned who killed my parents,” I said flatly.

His smile faltered. “I know… and I’m sorry. It’s just… a lot, and then Elaine—”

“I have somewhere to be, Liam. Do you need something?” I interrupted, unwilling to linger.

He held up a document. “This needs your signature, but I’ll leave it with Eliza.”

“Okay,” I said curtly.

Chapter 120 (Continued)

Our eyes met as the elevator doors closed. For a fleeting moment, I felt… something. I didn’t know what I expected from Liam. He’d been my constant, and though I never asked for anything, his absence after learning about that night stung. If I were better at processing emotions, I’d call it hurt. But I wasn’t.

The elevator descended, and I dismissed the thought. Driving to my estate, I went to where I'd arranged for the man—whose name and background I still didn't know—to be brought. Rickon was already waiting.

“What are you doing here? Who let you in?” I asked sharply, folding my arms. His grin widened.

“Why, hello, Your Highness,” he replied, mocking politeness. “What a lovely day!”

I arched a brow. “I’m not in the mood for theatrics. What do you want, Rickon?”

He chuckled, a grating sound. Leaning against the doorframe, his grin faltered briefly, then reappeared, more infuriating than before. “As always, I’m here to help. You do remember I’m responsible for catching the man, don’t you? A little gratitude wouldn’t kill you.”

“And you have my utmost gratitude. Now, please leave the way you came in,” I said dryly.

I turned, but his voice stopped me. It lacked its usual smugness. “Sometimes people don’t have an ulterior motive. Sometimes, they just want to help.”

I glanced back, fixing him with a cold stare. “Really? This has nothing to do with you wanting to win Isabella over, does it? And don’t think I don’t know about your stunt in your office—setting Dylan and me up, ensuring Isabella arrived at the right moment—it was all you, wasn’t it? Did you even want the alliance?”

Rickon smirked. “No, I didn’t want the alliance. And I said people, not me.”

If I weren’t trying to be better, I would have made him pay. But he was proving useful. “Fine,” I said. “You can stay. But keep quiet.”

“I’ll take what I can get,” he replied, grinning.

I strode down the hall toward the eastern wing, reserved for delicate situations. Rickon followed, his presence an irritation I had to tolerate.

Ivan met me, bowing slightly. The fear in his eyes didn’t escape me. “He hasn’t said anything, Your Highness,” Ivan reported.

I nodded and entered the room. The chained man lifted his head. “So this is the legendary Grayson Blackwood,” he drawled. “I expected more. Guess the stories were just that—stories.”

I didn’t respond. Rickon leaned against the wall. The man was large, but the defiance in his eyes told me he believed he was untouchable. He was wrong.

I pulled out my phone; a notification buzzed. Carter’s message appeared, and I smiled. I should give him a raise.

I read Carter’s message aloud: “Andrew.”

The man’s bravado crumbled, his face paling. For the first time, he looked afraid.

“I’m trying to be a better man,” I said, my voice calm but sharp. “So I won’t threaten a thirteen-year-old child. But I will extend the consequences to him if you don’t cooperate. This is your chance. Who sent you?”

Rickon chuckled. “That sounded like a threat.”

I smiled faintly. “I said trying.”

The man’s eyes darted between us, his confidence gone. He spoke, finally defeated.

“Evelyn Pierce.”

This cleaned-up version improves grammar, punctuation, and sentence structure for better readability and flow. It also removes inconsistencies and unnecessary repetition.