From Boss to Boo

24. Grayson

24

The shrill ring of my phone pierces the air, jolting me out of my contented reverie. I glance at the screen, my heart sinking as I see my mother's name flashing insistently.

"Grayson, darling," Mother purrs, her voice dripping with false sweetness. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."

I sigh, already feeling a headache brewing behind my eyes. "Hello, Mother. To what do I owe the pleasure of this unexpected call?"

There's a pause, a delicate clearing of the throat. "Well, my dear, I was rather hoping we could discuss your...situation with Amara."

I feel my hackles rise, a defensive growl building in my chest. "And what exactly do you mean by 'situation', Mother? Amara and I are engaged. We're building a life together. I fail to see what there is to discuss."

She tuts, a sound of mock sympathy that grates on my last nerve. "Oh, my precious angel. I know you think you're in love, but really...do you honestly believe that this girl is the right fit for our family? For the Winthrop legacy?"

I clench my jaw, fighting to keep my temper in check. "Amara is the love of my life, Mother. She is kind, intelligent, and compassionate. She makes me happier than I ever thought possible. So yes, I do believe she is the right fit. The only fit."

"But darling," Evelyn presses, her tone turning wheedling, "I think we’ve let this little folly with your co-worker go on long enough. It’s time to get serious. What about Sophia? She comes from such a good family, with impeccable connections. And she's always been so fond of you..."

I let out a bark of laughter, the sound harsh and humorless. "You can't be serious, Mother. That woman is a viper, a manipulative schemer who cares for nothing but her own selfish desires. She would make a terrible wife, and an even worse partner."

"But think of the benefits, Grayson!" Evelyn insists, her voice rising with a note of desperation. "With her by your side, the Winthrop fortune would be secure for generations to come. She understands the demands of our lifestyle, the expectations of our social circle. Can you really say the same for Amara?"

I feel a wave of anger wash over me, hot and fierce. "Enough, Mother. I will not sit here and listen to you disparage the woman I love, or try to sell me on some twisted arrangement with a woman I despise. Amara is my future, my forever. And nothing you say or do will change that."

There's a long, tense silence on the other end of the line. When she speaks again, her voice is cold, laced with a menace that sends a chill down my spine.

"Very well, Grayson. If you insist on proceeding with this foolish infatuation, I suppose I have no choice but to accept it. But mark my words...you will come to regret this decision. And when you do...don't come crying to me."

With that, the line goes dead, leaving me staring at the phone in my hand with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

I knew my mother would have her reservations about Amara, that she would likely try to interfere in our relationship in some way. But to hear her so blatantly dismiss my feelings, to try and manipulate me into a loveless marriage for the sake of money and status. Ridiculous.

It's a betrayal that cuts deep, a reminder of just how little my own mother truly knows me.

But even as the hurt and anger swirl inside me, I feel a flicker of determination, a steadfast resolve that only grows stronger with each passing moment.

I love Amara. Wholly. Completely. And no amount of maternal meddling or societal pressure will ever change that.

And if my mother can't accept that...

Then that is her loss, and her burden to bear.

I am the CEO and majority shareholder, after all. I can make her life a living hell, shut down her company cards, and take my estate back.

But as I sit there, stewing in my own righteous indignation, a small, nagging voice in the back of my mind whispers a warning.

Evelyn Winthrop is not a woman to be trifled with.

And if she is truly determined to sabotage my relationship with Amara, then we should be careful. Nothing will stop her from throwing all of her resources to stop this wedding if she so chooses.

A few weeks later, I'm sitting in my office, pouring over some financial reports, when my intercom buzzes with a message from my assistant.

"Mr. Winthrop, your mother is here to see you. She says it's urgent."

I frown, a sense of unease prickling at the back of my neck. It's not like Evelyn to show up unannounced, especially not after our last tense conversation.

"Send her in," I say, steeling myself for whatever fresh hell she's about to unleash.

The door swings open, revealing my mother in all her designer-clad glory. She sweeps into the room, her high heels clicking ominously against the marble floor.

"Grayson, darling," she trills, air-kissing my cheek with a cool, perfunctory peck. "I apologize for the intrusion, but I have some information that simply couldn't wait."

I lean back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest as I eye her warily. "And what information might that be, Mother? I thought I told you the matter was settled. If this is another attempt to convince me to break things off with Amara..."

Evelyn holds up a perfectly manicured hand, silencing me mid-sentence. "Oh, no, dear. I've come to realize the error of my ways on that front. You're a grown man, capable of making your own decisions."

I blink, taken aback by her sudden change of tune. "I...well, thank you, Mother. That's very big of you to admit."

She smiles, a cat-like curl of her lips that sends a shiver down my spine. "Of course, darling. I only want what's best for you, after all. Which is why I felt it was my duty to bring this to your attention."

With a flourish, she produces a thick manila envelope from her Birkin bag, sliding it across my desk with a sense of barely-contained triumph.

I pick it up gingerly as if it might bite me. "What's this?"

"Just a little...research I've been conducting," Evelyn says, examining her perfectly lacquered nails with a studied nonchalance. "On your darling fiancée, Amara."

My heart stops, a cold sweat breaking out on my brow. "You...you've been investigating Amara? Why? What could you possibly hope to find?"

Evelyn tuts, a sound of mock sympathy. "Oh, Grayson. I was only looking out for your best interests, darling. The family's best interest. Would be selfish not to. You understand, don’t you? And what I found...Well, let's just say it's rather alarming."

With trembling fingers, I open the envelope, my eyes widening as I take in the contents.

Police reports. News articles. Affidavits from anonymous sources.

All painting a picture of Amara that I hardly recognize.

"What...what is all this?" I whisper, my voice hoarse with shock and disbelief.

Mother leans forward, her eyes glinting with a malicious glee. "It seems your precious Amara has quite the checkered past, my dear. Arrests for petty theft and vandalism. A stint in juvenile detention. And most damning of all...a history of sexual promiscuity that would make even the most hardened libertine blush."

I shake my head, my mind reeling as I try to reconcile this information with the woman I know and love. "No...no, this can't be true. There must be some mistake, some...some misunderstanding."

"I'm afraid not, darling," Evelyn says, her voice dripping with false sympathy. "It's all there, in black and white. Your sweet, innocent Amara...nothing more than a common criminal and a whore. You understand now? Why, we can’t have a degenerate in the family, especially with the company at stake. Your father would be rolling in his grave."

I feel a surge of anger, hot and fierce, rising up in my chest. "How dare you," I growl, my hands clenching into fists at my sides. "How dare you come in here and slander the woman I love with these...these lies and half-truths!"

Evelyn raises a perfectly-arched eyebrow, a look of cool disdain on her face. "Lies, Grayson? I assure you, every bit of information in that file has been thoroughly vetted and verified. But by all means, ask your beloved Amara. See what she has to say for herself."

I'm about to retort, to tell my mother exactly where she can shove her so-called "research"...but something stops me.

A small, niggling doubt, worming its way into my brain.

Could there be some truth to these allegations? Could Amara really have hidden such a dark, troubled past from me?

"I...I need to talk to Amara," I mutter, more to myself than to Evelyn. "I need to hear her side of the story, to...to understand."

My mother nods, a look of faux concern on her face. "Of course, darling. You do what you must. But remember...a leopard never changes its spots. And a woman with a history like Amara's...well, she's hardly fit to be a Winthrop bride, now is she?"

With that parting shot, Evelyn sweeps out of my office, leaving me alone with my swirling thoughts and a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I know, deep down, that I should trust Amara. That I should have faith in the love we've built, in the unshakable bond we share. And just like when Sophia made her baseless claims about me, I owe Amara the benefit of the doubt.

But the seeds of doubt have been planted, the cracks in our foundation exposed.

And as I reach for my phone, my finger hovering over Amara's number...

I can't shake the feeling that everything is about to change.

For better or for worse...

The truth will out.