Chapter 34
THIRTY-FOUR
Grayson
The living room was quiet except for the television murmuring the news.
Ariana had left that morning to meet Sandra Hale, who had come into town specifically to see her.
On its own, that would have meant nothing—just a routine business.
But the tension in Ariana’s voice and the worry etched into her face told a different story.
Something was weighing on her, something she hadn’t said aloud.
The questions kept circling. That one-year contract she’d mentioned—what was it actually for?
Six days I’d been here now, and she had taken care of me in ways I hadn’t thought to expect, more than anyone had before.
And yet, it wasn’t the same as that first night, and I wasn’t sure it ever would be.
That night, she had let her guard down—gentle touches, a warm shower, a lingering kiss, the ease of being close. But something shifted by morning. A distance settled in, sudden and sharp, and I had no answer for it. Why had she pulled back? What had changed?
It had to be that call. I remembered waking to the ringing, still groggy but alert enough to register it. She had slipped quietly out of the room to answer, careful not to disturb me. Whatever was said, it had unsettled her. Even through the fog of sleep, I could feel it when she came back.
The front door creaked open. Ariana stepped inside with her usual grace, though fatigue showed in the set of her shoulders. She put down her bag, hung her coat, slipped off her shoes, and fished her phone from her coat pocket before finally turning toward me.
Roe was asleep beside me on the couch. Ariana’s expression softened when she saw her. She crouched slightly, careful not to disturb anything, and gave a small apologetic smile. “I’m sorry it took so long. How are you feeling?”
I leaned back against the pillows, moving slowly. Sitting upright hurt; my ribs flared with even the slightest motion, but with the cushions supporting me, I managed. My arm throbbed too, the fracture still raw, so I held it close to my body, careful not to strain it.
“I’m okay,” I said, forcing a small smile.
Her hand brushed mine instinctively, and a familiar tension settled between us, the push and pull of care and distance threading through the last few days.
Hot and cold. Near and far. I felt it in the way she lingered yet held herself back, as if some part of her still hesitated to cross an invisible line.
“Good,” she said, just as Roe stirred awake.
“Hey, you’re back,” she murmured, rubbing her face as she sat up.
“Yes,” Ariana replied, her voice soft. “Thank you for being here, Roe.”
“No problem,” she said, glancing at me with a small smile. “It’s the least I could do for both of you.”
“Thank you,” I said. “You’ve been a great help.”
“It’s okay,” she replied. “I didn’t really do much, just sat here with you, watching TV.”
Her gaze flicked between Ariana and me, and I knew she’d picked up on the tension. “Okay… I think I’d better go home.”
“You don’t want to stay for dinner? I brought food from Ana?s,” Ariana offered.
Roe shook her head. “Maybe next time. I should get going.”
“Thanks again, Roe,” Ariana said.
Roe grabbed her bag, slipped on her shoes, and with a quick wave, let herself out.
Ariana lifted the bag from the floor and carried it into the kitchen.
I listened to the soft clatter of her moving about, wishing I could get up and help, but anchored by the ache in my body.
When she returned, she carried two plates of sushi rolls.
She laid a pillow across my lap carefully before setting one of the plates on top.
“How was your meeting?” I asked when we had started to eat.
“It went well,” she said, her tone brisk.
“May I ask what the meeting was about?” I ventured carefully. When her expression shifted, I quickly added, “You don’t have to tell me if you would rather not. I’m sorry. I know it is not really my business.”
“No,” she sighed. “I will tell you. We need to talk. But let’s finish eating first.”
“Okay,” I said.
We ate in silence, and I watched her expression turn more shadowed by the second.
Something was weighing on her, and I could not shake the feeling that it had to do with me.
Was she bothered by my staying here? Maybe it was time to move into my new apartment.
I could manage on my own now. I was able to get around, at least a little.
But I wouldn’t lie, her change hit me hard, a force I couldn’t read or prepare for.
Every guarded look and every space she put between us felt like a door closing in my face.
The silence that followed was heavier than any argument.
What terrified me most was the thought of being shut out of her life entirely.
I knew I had hurt her, and my mistakes had cast a shadow over the light in her eyes. That weight sits with me every day. But even in that regret, there is hope. Hope that one day she will see not who I was, but who I am trying to be for her.
If she let me, I would give her everything. I would make sure she never doubts how much she means to me or the place she holds in my life. I would notice the small things that bring her happiness, the quiet ways she feels loved, and I would make sure she always knows it.
And I would move mountains for her. I would fix what I broke. I would do whatever it takes to earn back her trust and show her that she is my world, has always been, and always will be.
God, I really wish she would give me a chance.
I was so nervous about what she was going to say that I couldn’t bring myself to eat. She noticed, her eyes flickering to me with a silent question. I forced a small smile and said, “I’m not too hungry.”
She nodded without pressing, taking the plate from me and carrying it to the kitchen.
I heard the water running, the faint scrape of utensils against porcelain, the dishwasher opening and closing.
Each sound stretched out, making every passing minute feel heavier, as if time itself were holding its breath.
My mind raced, imagining what she might say and feel, and I was caught in a loop of hope and dread, unable to steady myself.
Then I heard her footsteps, and she sat down beside me. I held my breath, my heart pounding, waiting for what she would say.
“I know I’ve been distant these past few days,” she began. “And I’m sorry.” She paused, taking a steadying breath. “The first night you were here, I got a call from Sandra. I asked her to meet me to talk about our agreement.”
“Okay,” I said, trailing off, waiting.
“You know she backed me. She invested in me for this whole operation.”
I nodded.
“I signed a contract with her.” She hesitated, choosing her words with care.
“In it, I agreed to achieve certain objectives. Most of them you already know—the launch of Ana?s and outperforming you in the market.” Her gaze locked on mine, searching for a reaction I didn’t give.
I understood, so there was nothing for her to fear.
“But there’s one part you don’t know.” She paused again, hesitation flickering across her face.
“I have one year to dismantle the Mercer Group, to acquire their shares, erode their stake, and break the company down piece by piece until there is nothing left.”
She said it all in one breath, as if holding it in any longer would drive her mad.
I just blinked at her, stunned, needing more explanation.
“It means she is not satisfied with just sixty percent of the shares, Gray. She wants all of it.”
“But we already agreed…” I trailed off.
“I made that decision on my own. She disapproved.”
“Why does she want that? Why does she want to destroy us?”
“Because in the past, your family—your father and uncle—lied to and deceived the Hales. Now Sandra has the chance for payback.” She swallowed hard before adding, “And I was the one who gave her the opportunity.”
My mind was spinning with all of this information, trying to grasp the impact. “What happens if you don’t accomplish what you agreed to within a year?”
“She will take everything—Ana?s, my new restaurant, and yours too. She would take control of it all herself. I tried to negotiate, told her I could run everything and generate profit for her. She said she would think about it, but I have a feeling she won’t agree.”
“And then what?”
“If she managed to take over everything, she would probably keep Ana?s, but she would sell your assets and let everyone go.”
“Ari…” I gasped, unsure what to say.
“I know,” she whispered, looking away. “I’m sorry.”
“That means you will lose everything?” I asked, still struggling to believe it.
“Yes.” She nodded.
“But you worked so hard for it,” I said, struggling to imagine how it must feel for her after everything she had done.
“Yes, well…” She trailed off, letting out a long sigh, her shoulders slumping slightly.
I could see the weight of disappointment in her eyes, the frustration she tried to hide.
I reached out, lightly brushing her hand, hoping she could feel that I understood, that I wasn’t judging her for what had to be done.
And then it hit me—I was the only one who could keep her from losing everything. The weight of that settled hard. I couldn’t stay silent, not when I had the means to act. If keeping her safe costs me everything, so be it.
“Then let her take it,” I said.
She looked taken aback. “What?”
“Let her buy the rest of the shares. My shares. Use the money to buy Ana?s from her.”
“Grayson,” she breathed out. “She will negotiate until there is nothing left for you.”
“You can negotiate for me. I trust you. You know exactly how much you need to buy Ana?s.”
She shook her head. “And what will you get?”
I smiled at her. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”
“What about your parents?”