25. Leah
Chapter twenty-five
Leah
The nerve of him.
I’m storming through the doors of Grayson Studios, my father’s multibillion-dollar empire, and I can feel the heat rising in my chest, anger bubbling up like lava. How could he? How could he twist the truth like this and turn Silas into some kind of predator? It’s not like I expected my dad to throw us a surprise engagement party, but this? This low, underhanded attack?
Eyes are on me. I can feel them. With every step through the glossy marble lobby, heads turn, and whispers chase my back. I want to snap, but I bite it down. If there’s one thing I’ve learned growing up as Harvey Grayson’s daughter, it’s that the studio is always watching.
No missteps, no outbursts, no real emotion allowed. But today, I might make an exception.
The lobby is obnoxiously grand, with all glass walls and towering chandeliers. It's the kind of place you walk into and instantly know that whoever owns it can crush you under their boot without blinking. I dreamed of running this place someday, taking over the family legacy. That was before I realized I’d rather build something of my own, far away from this looming monument to Dad’s ego.
The glitz feels suffocating today, like a too-tight collar I can’t yank off fast enough.
I glance at the elevators and make a beeline for the open one, ignoring the curious stares. As soon as I step inside, a tall, blonde woman follows. She’s pretty in that cookie-cutter way: perfect hair, lips, and a perfectly annoying stare fixed on me like I’m a zoo exhibit. Great.
We ride in silence for a beat, and just when I think I might make it to my father’s office without losing my cool, she opens her mouth.
“I’m so sorry about what Silas Waverly did to you,” she says, her voice dripping with pity.
“Who are you?” I can’t keep the annoyance out of my voice.
“Petra.” She touches her chest and flashes me a million-dollar smile. If I had to guess, she just got her teeth done. I can’t lie; they look good.
“Petra,” I repeat the unfamiliar name and stare at her unfamiliar face.
“It must be terrible being groomed by someone your father’s age.”
I cock my head, caught between disbelief and rage. “Excuse me?”
“I mean,” she continues, not picking up on my death stare, “you’re so young. And to be taken advantage of like that by someone so much older? It’s awful, and boy, do I pity you? Men, right?”
Is she serious? I take a breath, trying to keep myself from exploding. “I don’t need your sympathy, Petra,” I say, my voice sharper than I intended. “What I have with Silas is genuine. And it’s legal. Jesus, who are you to pity me?”
She nods like she’s heard this a million times before. “Leah, dear, It’s normal for victims not to want to admit they’re victims.”
Victim? I stare at her, dumbfounded. She’s gone mad. I open my mouth to say something—anything—but the elevator dings, and she steps out, flashing me a saintly smile with her new teeth glinting in the golden lights.
“I’ll keep you in my prayers,” she says, making the sign of the cross like I’m on my deathbed.
I’m left alone, the doors sliding shut. The quiet hum of the elevator does nothing to soothe the white-hot rage boiling in my gut. Victim? I didn’t suffer a damn crime! And now, thanks to my father’s brilliant PR move, the whole world thinks I’ve been manipulated.
God!
As the elevator climbs higher, I feel my pulse quicken. This wasn’t supposed to be like this. It wasn’t supposed to spin out of control. But my father has a talent for turning every situation into chaos. He’s probably sitting in his office right now, smug as hell, thinking he’s done me a favor.
When the doors open, I head straight for his office. My father’s assistant, a buttoned-up, attractive woman in her twenties, tries to stop me. “Miss Grayson, your father is—"
“Busy. Yeah, I know. But this can’t wait,” I snap, pushing past her.
I don’t knock. Why bother? I throw the door open and march in.
There he is, Dad, king of the goddamn world, sitting behind his oversized mahogany desk, staring at me like I’m a hurricane that’s just blown in unannounced. He looks good, and I’ll give him that—salt-and-pepper hair, perfectly groomed, and wearing a dark blue suit that probably costs more than most people’s yearly salary. But the sight of him makes my skin crawl today.
“Leah,” he says, leaning back in his chair, trying for casual. “I was just about to call you.”
“Don’t. Just don’t, Dad.” I cross my arms, glaring at him. “How could you do this to me? What the hell were you thinking?”
He lifts an eyebrow, pretending not to understand. “Do what, exactly?”
“Don’t play dumb, Dad. You leaked that story. You made it sound like Silas is some kind of predator who took advantage of me when I was barely legal. You made me look like a victim!”
He tilts his head, studying me like I’m some puzzle he can’t quite figure out. “Leah, you are a victim.”
I can feel my hands trembling with anger. “No. I’m not. Jesus, do you even know when you’re full of shit anymore?”
“Careful.”
“Or what, Dad?” I open my arms. “You’ll leak another story to the press and make me look like a bigger fool?”
“This isn’t about you. It’s about—”
“Your ego.” I cut him off, nodding. “Right? Your goddamn ego.”
“It’s about honor!”
“Honor?” I laugh. “Honor, Dad? Really?”
“Silas is taking advantage of you!” He slams his hand on the table, spittle flying from his mouth as his mask of coolness disappears for a minute. “He’s a fucking piece of shit!”
“He isn’t taking advantage of me!” I cover my face with my hands and take breaths to settle myself. “Look, Dad, What I have with Silas—it’s real. And it’s none of your damn business, okay? So, just back off.”
“Real?” My father stands, walking around the desk, with that calm, calculated look he gets when he thinks he’s winning. “Leah, I know about the fake engagement.”
I blink.
He shrugs as if it’s nothing. “I gave Silas the idea, you know. I told him a fake engagement would smooth things over with the Caldwells. I just didn’t know he’d drag you into it. Fuck, I didn’t even know he knew you!”
My chest tightens. “It’s not fake anymore. W-We have real feelings for each other.”
A flicker of something crosses his face—disappointment? Disgust? He shakes his head. “You’re a fool, Leah. You can’t see it, can you? He’s playing you.”
“You don’t know anything about him!” My voice rises, breaking through the calm facade I’ve tried to maintain.
“I know enough,” he snaps back. “And you’re too blind to see it.”
“That’s bullshit,” I spit, taking a step closer, my fists clenched. “Silas saved my life, Dad. During the earthquake in Rome. When you—" My throat tightens. I don’t want to go there, don’t want to dredge up the fact that he wasn’t there when I needed him most—he’s never there. “He lost his brother saving me. He’s done more for me than you ever have.”
My father’s jaw tightens, the muscles in his face hardening like stone. “So, you’re with him because you owe him? That’s it? This whole thing, it’s some twisted reward?”
“No!” I shout, shaking my head. “I’m with him because I love him!”
He looks at me like I’ve just confessed to some crime. “I don’t want to hear that. I’ll never stop coming after you two until this is over because you’re making a mistake.”
I’m shaking now, vibrating with the need to scream, to throw something, just to do something. But instead, I force myself to stay calm. I glance down at my phone—a text from Penny:
Girl, I have an idea that can help with this mess. Call me as soon as you can! Xoxo.
“Is that Silas?”
I look back up at my father, feeling the anger bubbling over. “You want us to start over, right, Dad? You and I; you want us to be a family again?”
He reaches a hand out and touches my cheek. “That’s all I want, Leah.”
“Good. If you can’t respect my decisions, then you can kiss any chance of a resolution goodbye.”
With that, I turn on my heel and slam the door behind me.
I don’t look back.