Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Grace
I woke up before she did.
The penthouse was quiet, the only sound the faint hum of the city beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. The early morning light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting long shadows along the hardwood floor, stretching toward the couch where Grace lay, still asleep.
I should have looked away.
Should have forced myself to.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I stayed exactly where I was, leaning against the chair across from her, elbows resting on my knees, watching as her chest rose and fell in slow, even breaths. Her face was turned toward me, strands of dark hair falling loose against the pillow, lips parted just slightly as she slept.
It was a sight I shouldn’t have seen.
Grace Dauntless wasn’t the kind of woman who let her guard down.
Not even in sleep. But she had pushed herself too hard, had nearly bled out on my floor last night, and exhaustion had finally caught up to her.
I could still see the evidence of it—the bruises along her arms, the faint crease between her brows, even now, as if some part of her was still on edge, still waiting for the next threat.
She didn’t look peaceful.
Just tired.
And after what had happened last night, I knew exactly why.
The memory of the kiss slammed into me all at once, hot and overwhelming.
The way she had pressed into me, her hands fisting my shirt, her breath sharp and uneven against my lips. The way neither of us had stopped, the way neither of us had wanted to. The way I had completely lost control—something that never happened, not with me, not with anyone.
But it had happened with her.
And now I had to figure out how to pretend like it hadn’t meant anything.
I exhaled slowly, dragging a hand down my face, trying to shake off the heat still lingering beneath my skin. It was fine. It had been a moment—an intense, reckless moment—but that’s all it was. We were both exhausted, both running on adrenaline, both caught up in the aftermath of the fight.
That was the only reason it had happened.
Right?
Grace stirred.
I stiffened.
Her eyelashes fluttered before she blinked up at me, and for the briefest second, everything from last night was right there in her eyes.
Then she masked it.
She sat up slowly, wincing as she tested her injured arm, her expression completely unreadable.
Neither of us spoke.
Not about the kiss. Not about the way we had lost ourselves in each other.
Not about the way I was still thinking about it.
Instead, I pushed off the chair and stood, keeping my movements slow, controlled. "You should eat something," I said, my voice perfectly even, like nothing had changed. "Your body’s still recovering."
Grace gave a small nod. "Yeah. Sure."
That was it.
We weren’t going to talk about it.
Fine.
I could pretend it hadn’t meant anything.
Even if it had.
The tension in the penthouse was suffocating.
Not just between Grace and me—but the others had noticed.
Breakfast was quiet, aside from the occasional clink of silverware against plates. Everyone was still processing what had happened last night, still caught up in the fact that Grace had nearly gotten herself killed.
But Riley was the first to catch onto something else.
He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his gaze flicked between me and Grace.
"You two look like you had a night."
Grace nearly choked on her coffee.
I shot Riley a warning look, but that only made him grin wider.
Ezra sighed, shaking his head. "Riley, shut up."
Theo ignored all of us, scrolling through something on his tablet, his expression grim. "Knox is moving faster than we expected," he announced. "We just got word—one of his people put in an offer to buy out one of Dominic’s properties."
My jaw tightened.
I had known Knox would come for my business. I had known he would try to strip everything from me piece by piece, that he wouldn’t stop until he had nothing left to destroy.
But I hadn’t expected it to be this soon.
"We don’t have much time," Theo continued. "If we’re going to stop him, we need to move now."
I nodded once. "Then we move."
Out of the corner of my eye, Grace was watching me.
And I didn’t know why, but the weight of her gaze felt heavier than it should have.
Later, I found her in the kitchen.
She was rinsing out her coffee cup, her back to me, her shoulders too tense, her posture too stiff. I leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her.
"You’re really just going to pretend nothing happened?"
Grace’s movements stilled.
Then she sighed, setting the cup down with a quiet clink before turning to face me. "There’s nothing to talk about."
"Bullshit."
She lifted a brow. "Oh? And what exactly do you want to talk about, Beethoven?"
I pushed off the counter, stepping closer. Too close.
Her eyes flickered with something unreadable, but she didn’t move away.
"You kissed me back," I said, my voice low. "So don’t act like it was one-sided."
Something flashed across her face, gone before I could place it. "It was a mistake."
I studied her, my jaw ticking. "Was it?"
Silence.
Too long.
Too heavy.
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, her gaze locked onto mine, and I knew—I knew she was lying.
"This isn’t going away, Grace," I said quietly.
She exhaled, her hands curling into the fabric of her shirt. And when she spoke, her voice was softer than before.
"I know."
I didn’t move.
I didn’t step back.
And for the first time since last night, I wanted to kiss her again.
The moment shattered.
Theo’s voice rang through the penthouse, sharp and urgent. "Dominic!"
I pulled away instantly, already turning toward the sound.
Theo was standing near the security monitors, his face set in a grim line.
"We have a problem," he said.
I didn’t need to ask.
I already knew.
Knox had made his next move.
And suddenly, whatever was happening between Grace and me didn’t matter anymore.
We didn’t have time for this.
But it was already too late.