The Return

               CHAPTER SIX

                   The Return 

Annie’s POV

It was 9 a.m., yet it felt earlier—like morning hadn’t fully made up its mind. Clothes went into my box in uneven, clumsy folds. I wasn’t packing; I was tearing through my things like someone trying to outrun a burning house.

Everything I touched pulsed with memory.

My perfume bottle—small enough to fit into a clutch but heavy enough to squeeze my chest.

My sandals.

The green dress I hadn’t even worn yet.

Everything suddenly felt too bright, too loud, too fast.

I should have been relaxing. Swimming. Breathing.

Not tossing my whole life into a bag because I was suddenly flying into a world I didn’t belong to—Grey’s world. His parents. His people. A life I was supposed to pretend my face fit into.

Matteo had said he wasn’t returning yet. I could go. He’d see me when he was done with his vacation. He only told me to be careful.

But being careful wasn’t something I could feel. Not with the anger from Diaman’s message still burning under my ribs. That message felt like a match dragged across my chest, reminding me why I agreed to this madness.

Revenge.

Closure.

Payback.

And maybe…

just a little curiosity about Grey.

Just a little.

A knock interrupted the storm inside my head.

“Annie.”

His voice—calm, smooth, controlled—cut straight through the chaos. Nothing like the riot happening inside me. Nothing like my heartbeat punching against my ears.

I opened the door.

Grey stood there, hands tucked into his pockets, expression unreadable. His eyes swept over me—slow, observant—catching the faint redness around my eyes, the tremor in my fingers. But he didn’t react. No comforting words. No questions.

Just certainty.

“We’re leaving in ten minutes,” he said.

That was it.

No hesitation.

No room for second thoughts.

I swallowed and zipped my bag.

---

The car ride began in silence. Not peaceful silence—no. This was the kind that made you aware of everything: your breathing, your pulse, the air in your throat.

Grey drove with one hand on the wheel, posture composed and elegant, jaw catching the sunlight slicing through the tinted window. I kept stealing glances at him, wondering how he could be so calm. Was he always like this? Controlled. Steady. Untouchable.

He finally spoke.

“My family is… lively.”

Simple words, but the undertone? A warning.

I blinked. “Lively how?”

“They notice everything,” he said, eyes fixed forward. “Nothing escapes them. And they expect excellence—from everyone.”

My stomach tightened. “Sounds… intense.”

He shrugged. “They’re not harsh. Just sharp. They’ll test you. Ask questions you won’t like. They push because they’re used to getting what they want.”

I swallowed. “And me?”

A small twitch pulled at the corner of his lips. “You’ll be fine. Just stay in character.”

Some of the tension in my chest loosened, but fear simmered beneath it. Pretend girlfriend. Fake. Acting.

But the way he said it felt… protective.

A bump in the road made our hands brush. Just a second—but enough for a spark to shoot through me, warm and unwanted.

He didn’t pull away.

He didn’t look at me.

But the air shifted—heavier, charged, like we’d stepped across a line.

I pulled my hand back first and turned toward the window, forcing myself to look at anything else.

---

The mansion rose into view like something out of a billionaire’s dream—massive, white stone, glass panels reflecting the sun with enough arrogance to blind someone. The gardens were impossibly perfect. A fountain glittered as if carved from pure light.

I stopped breathing for a moment.

I had never been here.

Five years with Diaman, and he never brought me. I never met his parents.

All signs I ignored.

All red flags I painted white.

How stupid had I been?

Well… not anymore.

“This… this is big,” I whispered.

Grey parked with clean, precise movements. He stepped out and came around to open my door—a silent reminder of the roles we were playing.

Inside the mansion, chatter spilled out—laughter, clinking glasses, a hum of celebration. Not just a welcome party for Grey. No. This was an event. Everyone had shown up.

Grey looked at me—steady, unreadable—and I knew I had to nail this performance.

“Ready?” he asked.

I nodded, unsure if I was ready for anything at all.

As we walked up the marble steps, the front doors opened wider, revealing the crowd inside. Faces turned, smiles brightened—or narrowed—at the sight of him. I believe his parents must have seen us, but I couldn't tell which were his parents, eyes were sharp but welcoming pareeyes, and the room buzzed with excitement. Everyone seemed thrilled at his return.

Then my stomach fell straight to the floor.

Diaman stood across the room.

Smirking.

Confidence.

Katy gleaming beside him.

He didn't know I would be here with his brother.

My chest tightened until it hurt. Rage flickered behind my ribs. They were married. After everything they did to me. After five wasted years.

Grey noticed everything. His jaw tensed.

We stepped into the crowd, side by side, our act slipping snugly into place.

“Stay close,” he whispered.

“Don’t break character.”

I nodded, gripping my bag’s strap as if it could anchor me.

People stared. Whispered. Judged.

I ignored them, squeezed Grey’s hand—and he didn’t let go.

Two people walked toward us—a man in a wheelchair and a woman. Warm smiles, sharp eyes. The man struggled to stand and patted Grey’s shoulder.

“It’s good to have you home, son.”

My eyes widened. His dad was sick? I had never met him. Not even during the wedding. Or maybe I just wasn’t important enough to be introduced to the family back then.

His mother’s gaze shifted to me—slow, assessing. Testing.

Then Grey’s dad tapped a spoon to a glass.

“Everyone, may I have your attention?”

Silence dropped over the room.

My heart thudded painfully.

“The moment we’ve been waiting for has come. My first son, Grey James, is back after years of studying abroad. So we toast—welcome home.”

Glasses lifted. Applause thundered.

I felt like I was dreaming. This was the first time I’d ever dined with men of this level. Important. Influential.

The music softened, chatter began again, and the room shifted into motion. Guests approached Grey, shaking his hand, laughing, exchanging greetings. I followed, weaving through the crowd beside him, letting my hand brush against his now and then. Each touch was subtle but grounding, a reminder that I wasn’t alone in this whirlwind.

Grey nodded politely, smiled, spoke in calm tones, and every movement radiated control. I couldn’t help noticing the difference between him and Diaman. This—this care, this presence—was nothing like what I’d ever known before.

As we greeted the last of the early arrivals, Grey’s gaze flicked toward his parents, who were standing slightly apart, observing us with quiet expectation. Slowly, deliberately, he guided me toward them. My pulse hammered in my ears, each step heavier than the last, the weight of what was coming settling into my chest.

Finally, we reached them. Grey straightened, squared his shoulders, and announced:

“Mom, Dad, Diaman… I want you to meet my girlfriend, Annie.”

The reactions were immediate.

Shock.

Confusion.

And from Diaman and Katy—pure disbelief.

“A–Annie?!”

“Diaman, do you know her?” his mother asked.

I answered before he could open his lying mouth.

“Oh, no. We don’t know each other, ma’am. Hi, Diaman, right? I’m Annie. Your brother’s girlfriend.”

His glare burned through me. Katy’s too.

“Why don’t we sit and talk,” their mother said excitedly. “It’s wonderful meeting you, darling. You don’t know how long we’ve waited for Grey to introduce someone.”

I smiled sweetly—mostly to piss the couple off.

“Really? I’m so sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier.”

His father cleared his throat. “How long have you two been together?”

I glanced at Grey for rescue.

“Two years,” he said smoothly.

His father laughed. “So that’s why you avoided all those blind dates!”

His mother leaned closer. “Annie, dear, what do you do? If you don’t mind.”

“I’m a marketer at Pleasure Hills.”

“Pleasure Hills? Our competitor? Interesting. How did you two meet?”

Grey jumped in again. “At an event. She was handling a client. I approached her first.”

His mother laughed. “You approached her? Grey! She must be special.”

“I don’t believe it,” Diaman snapped.

Everyone turned to him.

“What is it?” his father asked.

“They’re not in a relationship. I’ve never seen Grey with any woman. This is impossible. Brother, don't tell me you paid this woman to pretend?”

“Grey?” their mother asked.

Before Grey could respond, I cut in sharply.

“How could you say that? Your brother and I love each other. We kept it secret because we weren’t ready to go public. But now we are. Right, baby?”

Grey blinked—surprised—but nodded. “She’s right.”

I was dead.

Where did I get the courage to call him baby?

“I still don’t believe it,” Diaman said.

“Me either,” Katy added.

I laughed sarcastically. “So what will make you believe?”

“Kiss,” Diaman said.

“What?”

He folded his arms. “If you’ve dated for two years, it should be easy. Can’t you?”

“I–I—”

Before I could finish, Grey grabbed my nape, pulled me forward, and kissed me.

Deep.

Sure.

Possessive.

I froze for a second—then melted into it, forgetting we were surrounded by his parents, by strangers, and by the man who broke me.

When he finally pulled away, applause echoed around us.

“See?” his mother said. “They’re in love.”

His father added, “I believe you two will marry soon.”

My eyes widened.

Marry?

Grey and I locked eyes, both silently screaming.

Then his father continued:

“Now… the second event of the day. Remember why you came back. The shift in position. It’s time for you to lead as the n

ew CEO of Starlight Event Company. Are you ready?”

My jaw dropped.

New CEO?

Grey never told me this.

What would happen to Diaman?

Grey leaned forward.

“Dad… I’m not interested. Diaman should remain in his position. I didn’t come back for that.”

“What?”