Chapter 64

Grayson’s POV

I closed my eyes, letting out a long, frustrated sigh. I opened them to see the untouched food in front of me—a dish that would be decent in anyone else’s eyes, but felt like an insult in mine. I looked at the chef; her face was contorted with worry.

“What is this?” My voice was sharp, colder than ice.

The chef’s hands shook as she stared at the floor. “It’s dinner, Alpha. It’s all I could prepare on such short notice.”

I narrowed my eyes, irritation bubbling beneath my skin. “I asked what this is, not for your life story. Take it away and get someone to make an actual meal. You’re fired.”

Her face paled. “There’s no one else here, Alpha. I’m the only kitchen staff left. You fired everyone else.”

I exhaled, each word dripping with contempt. “Then get out of my sight.”

She flinched as though I’d slapped her, turned, and scurried away. I looked down at the food again; my appetite was already ruined. Just then, Elaine’s voice sliced through the silence.

“There’s nothing wrong with the food, Gray,” she said, her tone carefully controlled, but I could hear the annoyance simmering beneath.

My gaze snapped to her. “And did I ask you for your opinion?”

Her eyes flashed with defiance, the kind I knew all too well. “Okay, that’s it.”

“Elaine!” Liam’s voice held a warning note from across the table. “Don’t—”

She threw her napkin onto the table and leveled me with a look that could have stopped a lesser man in his tracks. “No, Liam. I’m saying this. For the past two months, everyone’s had to deal with your temper tantrums, but this week, it’s like you’ve completely lost it. On Monday, you fired the entire gardening team. Tuesday, it was the maids. Wednesday, the kitchen staff, and today you fired a guard because the gate took ten seconds to open. Ten seconds, Grayson! The gate has always taken ten seconds to open!”

Her voice rose, filling the room with raw frustration. “Everyone knows why you’re acting like this. So, why don’t you just get off your high horse and go get her? I’ll even try to be nice to her if it means you’ll stop acting like… like a madman. Jesus, Grayson, get a grip on yourself. I preferred you when you were cold and terrifying.”

With that, she stormed out, the door slamming behind her, leaving a ringing silence. I sat there, uncharacteristically…

Liam let out a long, tired sigh. “Elaine just stood up to you. You’ve really done it this time.” Then he pushed the food away. I glanced up at him, masking the shock I felt. “And where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here,” he muttered, rising from his seat. “You’re insufferable lately, and I’ve lost my appetite.” He paused, glancing back at me with a rare look of disappointment. “Oh, and by the way, she’s right. You are out of control. In case you’re interested—which I doubt—you’ll find her at 263 Mulberry Street. Not that you don’t already know, given the guy you had tailing her for the past month.”

I clenched my jaw, the words cutting deeper than I cared to admit. He turned to leave, his hand on the door, and threw one last barb over his shoulder.

“I’m rehiring all the staff, too. None of your reasons for firing anyone make sense.”

And then, like Elaine, he was gone, though he didn’t slam the door. The silence that followed was deafening, a heavy reminder of what I’d become in the past two months. I’d pushed everyone away; my frustration radiating out. Adding to that, the fact that neither Carter nor I could figure out who was behind the poison, and when the deceptive papers arrived, my anger exploded.

I pinched the bridge of my nose, closing my eyes for a moment as if that could shut out the churning, wooded chaos. Normally, there would be consequences for anyone speaking to me like that, but I knew deep down…

Hours later, against every ounce of pride I had, I found myself at Ava's doorstep. I held my breath as the door began to open, but it was Isabella who opened it. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she took me in, her expression morphing from surprise to pure irritation.

“No.”

She slammed the door in my face. Hard. My jaw clenched as I raised my hand and knocked again, my patience wearing thinner than ice.

She opened the door, looking even angrier. “What? I thought I made myself clear.”

“If you ever slam—”

“Hey, hey, hey,” she interrupted, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “You don’t get to come to my home uninvited and throw threats around, and I’m not letting you see Lilian.” She turned around as if someone had spoken. “What was that? I shouldn’t let him in, right?”

She looked at me again. “You heard her. Go away; your aura is ruining my zone of peace.”

She hooked her thumb over her shoulder and snapped, “No one said anything; you are talking to yourself.”

Her lips quirked up in a sarcastic smirk. “Oh, look, your brain is capable of working. Surprising, considering it hasn’t for the past two months.”

A dangerous growl rumbled low in my throat, and my eyes darkened. But to my surprise, she didn’t flinch. In fact, her eyes narrowed, matching my intensity.

“I may not stand a chance against you, but I’ll fight you, Grayson. Just try me.” Her voice was calm, deadly calm. And that was all it took for her to earn my wolf’s full respect, so he backed away. Seeing that I wasn’t going to do anything, she took a step backward and slammed the door even harder this time. I stood for a moment, weighing my options. According to the schedule I had created from all the trailing I was doing, she was supposed to be home by now, but if she wasn’t, it meant she was still at the hospital. I could go there, but if her friend was this angry, I couldn’t imagine what I’d face with Ava, and she had a temper.

After a moment of indecision, I did something I wasn’t accustomed to: I swallowed my pride and knocked again. The door flew open.

“What is it that you—”

“I don’t know how to fix this. I don’t know what to do.” The words escaped me before I could filter them.

Her expression softened, just slightly, before she sighed and opened the door wider. “Come in. Lilian isn’t here, though.”

“I know.” I stepped inside, immediately feeling out of place. The house was small but exuded a warmth that felt foreign to me, as though I’d stumbled into another world.

I scanned the room, unsure where to sit.

“Are you looking down on my house?” she snapped, her eyes narrowing.

I glared back. “No. Just looking for somewhere to sit.”

“There’s a couch right there,” she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Swallowing my irritation, I sat down, forcing myself to keep my tone even. “You don’t like me, and frankly, I don’t care. But we’re wasting time, so let’s get this over with. What do I say to her to make her come back?”

Isabella perched on a small chair, grabbing a notepad and pen. She scribbled something, then looked up at me, lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh.

“What are you doing?”

She tilted her head, giving me an exaggeratedly sympathetic look. “Taking notes, obviously. I’m trying to figure out if it’s some deep-rooted childhood trauma, or if you’re just naturally this emotionally stunted. Therapy could do wonders for you, you know.”

“You’re really pushing my patience, Isabella.”

“Fine, fine.” She put the notepad down, sighing. “If I were you—which, thank Goddess, I’m not—I’d start with something big. Grand gestures, right? But, knowing Lilian, she’ll see that as you throwing money around to get what you want. It’ll backfire.”

She pushed the notepad toward me. “Write down what you’d say to her if she were standing here.”

I picked up the pen, scrawled a few words, and passed it back. Her eyes skimmed the note, and she shook her head, genuinely shocked. She looked from the note to me and shook her head. “Jesus Christ, just how closed off are you?”

“There is nothing wrong with my words,” I defended.

“You wrote, ‘I believe my actions might have caused you inconveniences, so…’ What is wrong with you? You know what? Scratch that. I’m taking Lilian to a bar later this evening, and I’ll make her drink a little so she doesn’t outright punch you when she sees you. You talk to her, and you have to retract them…”

“Retract them how? What is—”

I recoiled. “I don’t apologize to anyone.” The words were instinctual, almost a reflex, yet I couldn’t hold back.

Isabella’s eyebrows rose, her gaze steady. “Well, then you better start learning by nine o’clock tonight, because you’ll need it if you want even a chance of her listening.”

She eyed me critically. “Let’s practice. Say it: ‘I’m sorry, I screwed up.’”

I stared back at her, mouth tight. “I’m not saying that.”

She sighed. “And you are making it more difficult. There is a zero percent chance she will even speak to you, even with an apology, and you aren’t capable of giving one.” She dropped the note near me. “If you won’t say it, at least write it. I’ll give you some time to practice.”

With that, she stood up and left, and I stared at the notepad like it was the enemy before I picked it up and started writing the words that I hoped would be enough to get the woman who had made me spiral out of control when she left, to come back.

Because I realized right now, in this moment, that for the first time in fifteen years, I was actually scared of something. I was scared of losing Ava Pierce because I had fallen for her.

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