Chapter 31
“Sleep in Heavenly Peace”
Greyson headed back inside while Wren made her goodbyes to Jocelyn, Bodhi, and Astrid. Rather than digest everything that happened, he headed toward the dining room to help clean up.
“Grey,” a low voice hissed as he passed his father’s study.
He stilled, wondering if he heard a ghost.
“Greyson,” Soren hissed, poking his head into the hall. “Get your ass in here!”
He followed Soren into the study, where he and Logan hovered like vultures over his father’s desk. “What?”
They exchanged a glance, and Soren pointed behind him. “Shut the door.”
He wasn’t in the mood for more family dysfunction, so he left it open. “What’s going on?”
Logan spoke first. “It’s Wren.”
“What about her?”
“You gotta marry her.”
The front door opened, and a chill cut through the house carrying Wren’s recognizable scent. Greyson leveled his brothers with a threatening look. “Conversation’s over.”
“What conversation?” She appeared in the doorway, scanning their blank faces.
Logan opened his mouth, and Greyson shot him a lethal glare.
Wren turned her stare on him. “What’s going on, Grey?”
“Nothing.”
“We think you two should get married.”
“God damnit, Soren!”
“What? We all know it’s inevitable. After that spectacle at dinner, it’s clear how badly he wants us to lose.”
“This isn’t a win or lose situation. Wren and I are out of it.”
“No,” Logan snapped. “You don’t get to excuse yourself from every fucked up thing that happens to this family, Grey. You’re a part of this. Wren is a part of this. And Soren’s right, Dad did this because he wanted to watch us fail one last time.”
“Dad added that clause because he’s a miserable, lonely man who only knows how to push others away. I’m not lowering myself to his twisted—”
“We’ll do it.”
He spun to face Wren. “Baby, no.”
She shrugged. “Why not?” Her fingers caressed the brown shoelace tied to her wrist. “We’re getting married anyway.”
“You are?”
“Wait, what?”
“When did this happen?”
She ignored his brothers. “If it fixes things, let’s just do it. I don’t want the three of you to fight.”
“We’re not fighting. I’m standing my ground.”
“Against our interests,” Logan barked. “What about us?”
“Yeah, what about the company and what we want?”
An argument erupted as they disputed the same old shit they’d been fighting over for years. Finally, Greyson snapped, “Did you ever consider I might not want it?”
The room silenced.
Soren scoffed. “No fucking shit.”
They squared off for a long moment, and then Logan finally admitted, “I want it. There. I admitted it. I want the company. And so does Soren. Does that mean anything to you?”
Tension crept up his spine. “Yes, but that’s not possible. The clause in the will—“
“Fuck the will! If you meet the clause, you inherit the company. You can do whatever the hell you want with it after that. You’d run the show.”
When he hesitated, Soren scoffed again, “My God, Greyson, is it really so hard for you to put us first? We’re talking about six months of involvement—tops.”
“You’re asking us to fast-track our lives. This isn’t just about me. It’s about Wren.”
“Wren, do you even want a big wedding?”
“I…” She looked up at Greyson and back to the boys. “I want everyone to be happy.”
Greyson’s jaw locked. “Enough. I’m not going to let you make our marriage into some business deal. I’ve said my piece, and that’s the—”
“Excuse me—”
They all turned to find Monica wringing her hands in the doorway, tears in her eyes. The world withered small enough to slide through a keyhole as the expression on her face sank in. All sound disappeared.
Logan rushed out of the study. Soren followed. Wren squeezed his arm, and the world shifted back on its axis, fitting like a shoe on the wrong foot.
“Greyson, I’m so sorry.” She hugged him and his arms numbly lifted to hold her.
A chill rushed down his spine.
They were too late.
It was done.