18. Margot
18
MARGOT
I wake up and for a second, I don’t remember anything, where I am, why I’m here, and the fact that Grayson King is somewhere in this place with me. The fact that I’m hiding out with my greatest rival, and worse, it’s finally sinking in that I don’t mind as much as I should. I groan, stretching under the covers before forcing myself up. The house is quiet except for the low murmur of someone on the phone. I follow the sound, stepping out into the hallway and pausing just before the kitchen.
Grayson is standing near the window, phone pressed to his ear, shirtless once again, because apparently, the man refuses to wear clothes in the morning. His back is to me, all strong lines and tension, his muscles shifting with every small movement. The morning light casts a golden glow on his skin, highlighting the sharp dips and ridges of his back, the broad shoulders that taper down to a lean waist. His abs, taut and defined, flex slightly as he takes a sip of coffee, and I swear, for a second, I forget how to breathe.
His free hand grips the mug tightly, veins prominent along his forearm, and when he rakes a hand through his already- messy hair, I feel a very real, very inconvenient warmth spread through me. This is ridiculous. I should not be noticing how unfairly attractive he is, not when I’m supposed to be focused on far more important things. But my body doesn’t seem to get the memo.
"No, that’s not good enough. I need a name. Someone gave up Margot’s information, and I want to know who. Now. I don’t care how you find it, pull phone records, track bank transactions, shake the information out of someone if you have to. But I want an answer within the hour, or you’ll be explaining to me why you failed. Do you understand?"
I suck in a sharp breath. He’s looking into how Liam found me? That’s… unexpected. And more than a little disarming.
Grayson exhales, running a hand through his hair. "Fine. Call me when you have something."
Just as he hangs up, his phone buzzes again. He glances at the screen and groans before answering. "What do you want, Olivia?"
I can’t hear her response, but whatever she says makes his jaw tighten. "Yeah, well, tell Elliot his dating life isn’t exactly my top priority right now." He listens for a second, then exhales sharply. "I didn’t forget. I know I have less than a month, Liv. Don’t start with me."
I frown, watching the way his shoulders stiffen. Less than a month forwhat?
I step into the kitchen, leaning against the doorway. "So, who do you have working for you, exactly? James Bond? Batman?"
He turns, his expression unreadable before his lips quirk up at the corner. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
I cross my arms. "I would, actually. I didn’t ask you to go digging."
"No, but you needed me to." His voice is softer now, but his gaze holds steady. "You just don’t want to admit it."
Damn him. I huff, reaching for a mug and pouring myself coffee. "So? Any leads?"
"Not yet. But we’ll find out. And when we do, whoever helped Liam won’t like what happens next."
Something in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. I’ve never known Grayson to be truly ruthless outside of business negotiations, but the way he says it? He’s not messing around.
I take a sip of coffee, watching him over the rim. "You don’t have to do this, you know." He steps closer, close enough that I can see the faint shadow of stubble on his jaw. "Yeah, Evans, I do."
I swallow, my throat suddenly dry. This is dangerous for so many reasons. But the biggest danger… Before I can say anything else, Grayson's phone buzzes again. He glances down at the screen, and whatever he sees makes his entire expression darken. I watch as his grip tightens around the device, knuckles turning white. He exhales sharply through his nose, jaw flexing before he finally meets my gaze.
"What?" I ask, my stomach twisting at the look in his eyes.
He hands me the phone, his voice low, controlled, but laced with something lethal. "You need to see this."
I take the phone, my breath stalling as I read the message on the screen: I warned you, Margot. You should’ve stayed where you belong.
A fresh wave of dread washes over me. But it’s the next part of the message that makes my blood run cold: Check your inbox. I left you something special. With shaking fingers, I grab my laptop and open my email. My heart pounds as I click on the newest message, the subject line alone making my stomach lurch.
Subject: Do you remember this night?
My chest tightens as I open the email. Attached is a series of photos, grainy but unmistakable. Me. Liam. A night I never wanted to think about again. A night where he was whispering in my ear, his grip on my wrist too tight, his smile too sharp. The last time I saw him before I ended things for good. And then, at the bottom of the email, a single line of text: I never forget what's mine.
Grayson doesn’t hesitate, he’s already moving, grabbing his laptop from the counter, opening it with precise, deadly focus.
I force myself to breathe, but I already know. Liam isn’t done playing games, and this time, he’s just getting started. I don’t want him to stop, because when Grayson fights for me, it does something to me, something I don’t want to name. He’s always been my rival, my competition, the one person who could challenge me at every turn. But now, he’s more than that. He’s stepping in when no one else has, protecting me in a way that’s both infuriating and intoxicating. I should push him away. I should remind him and myself, that I don’t need saving.But for the first time in a long time, I don’t feel alone. And that might be the most dangerous part of all.