Chapter 8
EIGHT
Grayson
Dawn crept in, but sleep never came.
She was everywhere. In the silence. In the shadows. In the goddamn air.
I closed my eyes—she was there. I opened them—still there.
Ariana.
She was just as beautiful as I remembered.
Her blue eyes held the same intensity, the same pull, and when they locked on me, it felt like she could see straight through everything I had built to keep her out.
But there was something colder now. Something guarded.
Hardened. Somehow, that only made her more striking.
And that fire in her, it was still there. It hadn’t faded. If anything, it had sharpened with time.
She looked at me as if I were the last person she ever wanted to see. Like I disgusted her.
And I couldn’t blame her.
I deserved it. I knew what I did. I hurt her physically. Publicly. I humiliated her.
What made it worse was how long it took me to admit I was wrong. Even longer to try to say I was sorry. I came back a week later, and she was already gone. But she hurt me, too. And I know that doesn’t justify what I did. Nothing does.
Still, it wasn’t just pain she left behind. She fucking wrecked me.
And somehow, after all this time, after everything I did to forget her, all it took was one day. One look. And my world started bleeding at the edges again.
I kept repeating it to myself tonight—I don’t care about Ariana
I don’t.
But my hands were clenched into fists on top of the sheets, and my jaw felt wired shut.
I shouldn’t feel like this. It’s not healthy to feel this.
Not for the woman who shattered me so completely it took two fucking years to piece myself back together.
I haven’t been the same since that night.
I was moving through the days, walking among the living, doing whatever I could to forget her.
I worked like a machine. I filled my nights with noise, strangers, and temporary distractions.
One woman after another, none of them staying. None of them could make me forget.
It took everything I had to even think about letting someone else in.
Then Lila came into my life.
I looked at her now, sleeping beside me, red hair spilled across the pillow, those green eyes hidden behind thick lashes.
Even in sleep, she had that calm, comforting warmth that drew me in from the start.
She was the kind of woman who never asked for more than what life had already given her.
She brought light into my life. She made me smile again.
I laughed. I breathed. For the first time in a long time, I felt whole.
Piece by piece, she put me back together. Exactly what I should want. Exactly what any sane man would hold on to.
And yet, there I was, wide awake, thinking about someone else.
Fuck.
Ariana should’ve stayed gone. She had no right to come back. No fucking right to look at me like nothing ever happened.
Still no explanation. Still no apology.
Still not a single goddamn reason for what she did to me.
I let out a deep, heavy sigh—loud enough to wake Lila. She stirred, lifted her head to look at me, and mumbled sleepily, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, sweetie,” I said with a small smile. “Just couldn’t sleep.”
Her head sank back onto the pillow, but her eyes stayed open, watching me. “Something on your mind?”
“Work,” I lied. “Too much of it lately.”
She gave a small nod, then shifted closer, resting her head on my chest.
My arm wrapped around her instinctively, holding her close.
“I’m still sleepy,” she mumbled.
“Go back to sleep.”
“Okay.”
Within seconds, I heard her soft, steady breathing, indicating that she was already asleep.
And while I lay there, still wide awake, my thoughts kept circling back to a dark-haired, blue-eyed woman who had invaded my mind, tainted my soul, and was breaking my heart all over again without even trying.
I stared at the black hoarding across from Belrose, watching people come and go all day.
It took guts to open directly across from us, especially given our reputation and the loyalty we’d earned.
At first, I didn’t even realize it was a restaurant.
I’d assumed it was a fashion boutique. It wasn’t until one of Lila’s friends received an invitation to the private dinner that I found out.
My stomach twisted at the thought of serious competition.
We couldn’t afford another hit to the business.
Out of the eight high-end restaurants we once owned, I had already shut down three.
The financial strain was growing heavier by the day.
My father and uncles, who ran the company before me, hadn’t managed it well.
Their decisions left us buried in debt, and it kept piling up, no matter how hard I tried to stay ahead.
And if Belrose went down, we’d be finished.
Ruined.
And now this.
Ana?s.
The private dinner they would be hosting was just two days away. One of my employees had received word from someone on their team that the hoarding would be taken down today.
That was why I was here, waiting. I needed to see it. To find out if my fear—that they might actually outshine Belrose—was about to become reality.
A crowd had started to form. People passing by on the street were slowing down, gathering in front of the shop and around me, all just as curious to see what was hidden behind that temporary wall.
Some of them noticed me standing there, watching.
A few gave me curious glances, perhaps knowing who I was, but I didn’t care.
I kept my eyes on the building and didn’t look away.
More people had gathered in front of the hoarding now. The workers had started tearing it down a few hours ago. It should have come off in minutes, but they were taking their time, as if it were part of some grand reveal.
And I watched it all unfold, holding my breath for what I was about to see.
Panel after panel came down, revealing glass that caught the light just enough to hint at the interior beyond. The name Ana?s appeared across the storefront in muted gold, elegant in a way that didn’t ask for attention but still drew it.
As the storefront was finally revealed, the crowd around me began to stir.
I caught the glances, heard muffled sounds of delight, and watched as people pulled out their phones to take photos.
I didn’t blame them. The space was beautiful in that curated, polished way that made everything else nearby look suddenly dated.
It was clear that whoever was behind this place had invested not just money, but vision.
Everything about it was sharp, composed, and meant to impress.
I stayed longer than I should have, eyes fixed on every detail, still hoping to find something—anything—I could use against it.
A mistake. A crack. Something they got wrong.
But there was nothing. Just a restaurant that was too perfect, like it had always been meant to sit across from Belrose and make us look like the ones out of place.
No doubt about it. I knew exactly what I was looking at.
Competition.
And if we weren’t careful, we’d lose.
I couldn’t let that happen. Too many people depended on us. The people we employed, the people who relied on me. Their livelihood and their future were in my hands. I couldn’t afford to lose.
Gathering my resolve, I crossed the street and walked over. For a moment, I stood outside, looking in. The lights inside were bright enough to reveal just how stunning the interior was. After a deep breath, I walked to the door and stepped in.
I looked around and swallowed hard. I couldn’t deny it—the place looked so fucking good. All I could do now was hope their menu didn’t measure up and that their food fell short of everything we had built.
“Can I help you?” a voice asked from my right.
I turned and found a man who looked to be in his late twenties or early thirties. He had a clean, preppy look, with thick-rimmed glasses over sharp blue eyes, and was almost as tall as me. He didn’t have a name tag, so I had no idea who he was.
“I’m Grayson Mercer,” I said. “I own Belrose. May I speak to someone in charge?”
He smiled and offered his hand. “That would be me. I’m Allen Simms, the manager of Ana?s.”
I shook his hand. “Congratulations on the opening,” I said politely. “This place is impressive.”
“Thank you,” he replied, his smile widening. “We’re very excited.”
“Who owns this place?” I asked, trying to learn more about my competition. Whoever it was had to be powerful and very wealthy to pull something like this off.
“An individual owns it,” he said, “but she has Hale Hospitality Holdings backing her up.”
Oh, fuck. This was serious competition.
I nodded and lowered my gaze, trying to mask the shock tightening in my chest.
“I’d like to meet her someday, if she has the time,” I said. “We’re neighbors. It’d be nice to get to know each other.”
“Sure,” Allen replied. “She’s actually on her way.” He glanced at his watch. “She should be here any minute now.”
“It’s fine. Maybe another time,” I said, turning to walk away. “You must be busy right now.”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, we are. Nice to meet you, Grayson Mercer,” he replied. There was something in the way he said my name, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
Back at Belrose, I spotted Lila standing by the entrance, watching me.
“Hey,” I murmured, leaning down to brush my lips against hers. She gave me a soft smile, her breath warm against my skin, then slid her arms around my neck, drawing me closer. The kiss deepened, slow and sweet, just like it had always been with her.
When she pulled away slightly, she said, “You look worried.”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “I’m very worried.”
“Then just remember one thing,” she said.
I kissed her again. I needed the grounding.
“What’s that?”
“They don’t have what Belrose has. They’re new. People here are loyal. This place has history, and that’s not something you can replace.”
That was Lila. She always had a way of seeing the light in everything. I ran my knuckles gently along her cheek, feeling a wave of gratitude for her.
“Thank you,” I said softly. “I needed to hear that.”
“You’re welcome,” she replied, smiling wider. “I believe in you, Gray. You won’t let them beat you.”
“I won’t,” I said. Then I paused. “Why aren’t you at work?” I asked, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear.
“I needed to stop by the bank and walk past here,” she said, pushing herself away from me. “But I have to go now.”
“Should I pick you up after work, or are you coming here?” I asked.
Her office was only a few blocks away, and mine was just upstairs on the third floor of the Belrose building. There were five floors in total, with Belrose taking the lower two.
“I’ll come by,” she said, taking my hand as she stepped back. “Let’s have dinner here tonight. I’m craving the Crab Risotto with Uni and Truffle.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling as her fingers lingered around mine. “I’ll wait for you.”
I watched as she turned and walked away, her red hair catching the sunlight, swaying slightly with each step. She didn’t look back, but her grip lingered a second longer than necessary before she finally let go.
The smile was still on my face when I turned around—until I froze.
There she was.
Ariana.
Standing across the street, right in front of Ana?s, watching me.
And beside her stood someone I recognized: Stephen Hale. The heir to Hale Hospitality Holdings.
I kept staring at them. I didn’t understand.
What the fuck was going on?