Novels by Grey's odu

The Cell Bathroom The attacker pressed his body against Wayne's and drove the knife into his side. He felt the blood come fast, warm against his gloved hand. He pulled the blade free without hesitation. Wayne tried to scream. Only a wet, broken sound came out, tears mixing with blood on his attacker's hand. The man didn't let go — not yet. His job wasn't to hurt Wayne. It was to finish him. He knew exactly when a person stopped fighting. He'd done this before. Wayne's body went still. His breath faded. His head fell to one side. The attacker released him and stepped back, watching the body crumple to the floor. He let out a slow breath and smiled. "Spoiled brat," he muttered, and slipped away into the dark. Minutes Later Two inmates heading to the bathroom found Wayne on the floor. Their screams brought guards running — then the correction officer, then the district police chief himself. The correction officer pulled on a glove, knelt beside the body, and pressed two fingers t

Still in the Visiting Room "That sounds like it's been going on a long time," Mirabella said. "Why not just leave? Move somewhere else?" "Leaving everything behind isn't an option right now. There's something I need to stay here and protect." That must be the thing he took from his mother, she thought, but said nothing. "I'm working on something," Wayne said, catching himself. "Once it's finished, maybe things will be different." She stayed quiet, turning his words over in her head, until she realized he'd asked her something and she'd missed it. "Sorry, what did you say?" "I asked if you could ever live abroad. Somewhere far from everything you call home." She laughed a little, thinking about the place she actually grew up. "I could live anywhere, as long as it's peaceful." He's not the type to hide how he feels, she thought, watching him. When he went quiet again, she changed the subject. "About the whole bully thing — I'd like to take you out for tea sometime. As a thank

The Hospital, The Next Morning Anita's surgery finished successfully. Mirabella and Ava walked the two doctors out to their car. "Make sure she stays calm and rests," Dr. Prita said. "No stress, for now." Mirabella and Ava nodded and waved as the car pulled away. Ava studied Mirabella's face the whole time. Something was clearly wrong, but she couldn't tell what. "Bella," she said finally. "Is there something you want to tell me?" "Aunt — if you found out a friend of yours was in trouble, and you were asked to turn him in, what would you do?" "Why are you asking me that? Did someone ask you to turn someone in?" "No, no. I just heard about a situation like that somewhere." "You worry too much. Where did you hear something like this?" "It's not a rumor, Aunt. It's real." "Then tell me properly, and maybe I can help." Mirabella took a breath. "A friend of a friend of mine stole something from his mother. Something valuable — maybe worth a lot of money. His mother's been trying

The Police Cell Wayne sat in the corner of the cell, lost in memory. He never knew his real father. The mother he grew up with was rarely home. His troubles had started the moment she remarried — to a man who never once looked at him like he mattered. The only person who had ever truly been on his side was his grandfather. And his grandfather was gone. "Don't trust anyone," his grandfather had told him once. "Not even your mother." He'd never explained why — only that when Wayne was ready, he'd tell him everything. A Memory Wayne had called ahead before visiting. "Grams, I'm on my way. Tell Aunt Rosey to make that pepper soup, and maybe pull out some of the good wine — I can handle it now." His grandfather laughed. "I may be old, boy, but my mind is still sharper than yours." "Love you, Grams." "Love you too, kid." Thirty minutes later, Wayne arrived at the estate, greeted warmly by the staff. He walked straight into his grandfather's room without knocking — and found him asle

Mateo's Office "I don't understand," Mirabella said, looking between them. "Something valuable was stolen from you. You have money and influence, and you couldn't get it back yourself — so now I'm supposed to find it and bring it home? How does that make sense?" "Mirabella, trust me. You're the only one who can pull this off. That's why we called you here." "First you told me I wasn't a waitress anymore because my voice was 'good for the company.' Now it's detective work. What's next?" Her voice rose. "You lost something the police can't find, and you think I'm some kind of secret agent?" "If you'd let me finish explaining—" "Fine. Go ahead." She turned to Queen, whose face gave away nothing. "Explain how someone with your money and power couldn't get this back herself." "The real question," Mateo said carefully, "is whose hands it's in." "Why does that matter?" "Because the person who took it is her son. Wayne." Mirabella's face went still. "Her son... who?" "Wayne." "You

Mateo's Office Queen walked straight in, guards waiting at the door as always. Mateo barely reacted anymore — he was used to it. "Where is she?" Queen asked. "On her way. She should be here in—" Then there was knock at the door. And It opened. Mirabella stepped inside. Earlier That Day In the car, Queen had called Mateo. "I want to meet the girl. Today." "Today?" Mateo had asked, surprised. "Today. Can you arrange it?" "I'll call her to check." "No — just tell her to be there. I'm on my way." Mateo called Mirabella right after. "Yes, boss?" she'd answered, sounding lighter than she had in days. Her mother's surgery had gone well, though she couldn't see her for a few more hours. "Are you free right now?" "Why, boss?" "The woman who paid for your mother's surgery would like to meet you. She'll be at my office in fifteen minutes, if you're able to come." "My mother's surgery just finished — I can't see her for a few hours anyway. I can be there. It's close by." She'd l