50. Grayson
50
GRAYSON
T he second Isabella’s interview goes live, everything shifts. I’m sitting in my office with Margot, Olivia, Cassian, and, unfortunately, Isabella when Olivia’s phone buzzes so violently it nearly launches itself off the desk. She glances at the screen, reads whatever update she just got, and lets out a low whistle.
“Well,” she says, adjusting her glasses, “that escalatedquickly.”
Margot, who has been glued to her own phone, refreshes the news feed. Her blue eyes widen. “Oh,damn.”
I frown. “What?”
Instead of answering, she turns the screen toward me. At the top of every major media outlet is a glaring headline: “ Hollywood Starlet Exposes Eleanor King: The Ruthless Woman Behind the Corporate Takeover.” Beneath it, a picture of Isabella, perfectly poised, red lips parted as if she’s in the middle of delivering a cutting remark, her expression a mix of feigned innocence and amusement.
I glance at her, unimpressed. “You reallylovedrama, don’t you?”
Isabella sips her iced coffee, entirely unbothered. “Of course I do. That’s why peoplelikeme.”
Cassian, lounging lazily in the chair across from me, grins. “I must say, Monroe, you do lookparticularlyscandalous in that photo.”
Isabella tosses her hair. “I know.”
Margot skims the article, her expression shifting between amusement and admiration. “Okay, Ihateto admit it, but this is actuallybrilliantlydone.”
I arch an eyebrow. “Explain.”
Margot pulls up another excerpt. “‘Eleanor King presents herself as the savior of Perfectly Matched , but those who have worked with her know better. She thrives on manipulation, on backroom deals, on destroying anyone who stands in her way.’” Margot pauses, a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. “Andthispart is particularly good…‘I’ve seen firsthand what happens when Eleanor doesn’t get what she wants. She retaliates, she punishes, sheerases people. And now, she’s trying to do the same thing to Grayson King.’”
Cassian lets out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s someShakespeareanvillainy right there.”
Isabella inspects her nails. “Thank you. Idohave a way with words.”
I shake my head, leaning back in my chair. “You just casually destroyed a woman’s public image beforebreakfast.”
She shrugs. “What can I say? It’s a gift.”
Cassian smirks, watching her a little too closely. “And what adangerouslittle gift it is.”
Isabella turns, narrowing her eyes at him. “Why do you sound impressed?”
Cassian grins lazily. “Oh, Iamimpressed. You’re far more devious than I gave you credit for.”
Isabella scoffs, crossing her arms. “Please. You’ve known me for weeks. You should havealreadyknown I was devious.”
Cassian hums thoughtfully. “True. But seeing you in action? It’s almost…” He pauses, tilting his head as if searching for the right word. Then his lips curl into something softer, something unreadable. “…attractive.”
Isabella freezes for just a second. Then, ever so smoothly, she arches an eyebrow. “Careful, Laurent. You sound dangerously close toflirtingwith me.”
Cassian’s grin widens. “And what if I am?”
Isabella doesn’t blink. Doesn’t move. Then, in a completely unaffected tone, she says, “I’d tell you to get in line.”
Margotchokeson her coffee. Olivia blinks. I drag a hand down my face.
Cassian, to his credit, only laughs, tipping his head back slightly. “Ah,Monroe. Always keeping me humble.”
“Someone has to,” Isabella mutters, but there’s a small twitch at the corner of her lips, like she’s fighting a smirk.
Margot recovers, shaking her head. “You two areexhausting.”
Cassian glances at her. “Exhausting, butentertaining.”
Margot groans. “Please. I’ve seen reality TV with less tension than whatever this is.”
Isabella scoffs. “There is nothis.”
Cassian smirks, as ifknowingsomething she doesn’t. “Keep telling yourself that, darling.”
Isabella glares at him. “I will. Because it’strue.”
Cassian leans in slightly, as if enjoying the way she bristles under his attention. “We’ll see.”
Margot crosses her arms. “Can I place bets on how long before you two actually murder each other?”
Cassian doesn’t even look at her. “Don’t be ridiculous, Evans. We wouldn’tmurdereach other.”
Isabella smirks. “No, we’d frame it as an accident.”
Margot groans, turning to Olivia. “Please tell me we have something more important to do than referee their weirdwill-they-won’t-they murder pact.”
Grayson leans over, his voice dropping just low enough for only me to hear. “You know, if they ever do get together, we’re going to have to pretend wedidn’tsee it coming.”
I smirk, letting my fingers brush lightly against his on the desk. “Oh, weabsolutelysaw it coming. I just plan on beingsmugabout it.”
He chuckles, his blue eyes flashing. “You dolovebeing right.”
I tilt my head. “I also love winning.”
Grayson’s gaze darkens, a slow, knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Lucky for you, we’re about to winthiswar, too.”
I lift an eyebrow, letting my fingers toy with the lapel of his suit jacket. “And what do I get if I win?”
He leans closer, voice a low murmur against my ear. “Anything you want, Evans.”
Heat curls in my stomach, but before I can reply, Olivia clears her throat loudly.
“If you two are doneeye-seducingeach other,” she says dryly, “Eleanor just released a statement.”
The room instantly shifts. The joking dies. Game on.