The Grandmother

Aria was elbow-deep in work emails when the penthouse elevator chimed.

She looked up from her laptop, confused. Leon wasn't supposed to be back until seven, and Sophia had left hours ago. The security system should have alerted her if someone was coming up.

The elevator doors opened.

A tiny woman dressed in a Chanel suit stepped out, followed by two men carrying luggages.

She had white hair styled in an elegant up-do, her sharp blue eyes scanning everywhere, and the kind of posture that suggested she'd been trained to walk with books on her head. Diamonds glittered at her throat and wrists—not flashy, just casually worth more than most people's houses.

"Well," the woman said, her voice crisp and carrying. "You must be the girl who finally trapped my grandson."

Aria's mouth fell open. "I—what—I didn't trap—"

"Relax, dear. I'm teasing." The woman waved the luggage men toward one of the guest rooms. "I'm Elena Mercer. Leon's grandmother. And you're Aria, the accidental wife who has my grandson tied in knots."

"Mrs. Mercer, I can explain—"

"It's Elena, darling. And there's nothing to explain. I've already heard twelve different versions of the story from twelve different people." Elena moved to the windows, surveying the view like she owned it. Which, Aria supposed, she kind of did. "I came to see for myself. See what kind of woman manages to marry a Mercer without even trying."

Aria set her laptop aside and stood, suddenly very aware she was wearing leggings and an oversized sweater with a coffee stain on the sleeve. "Leon didn't tell me you were coming."

"Leon doesn't know I'm coming." Elena's smile was pure mischief. "I have a key. And unlike my uptight grandson, I believe in surprises."

"He is going to be furious."

"Leon is always furious about something. Makes life interesting." Elena turned those sharp eyes on Aria, assessing her from head to toe. "Hmm. Not what I expected."

"I get that a lot."

"I expected someone harder. More calculating. The type who would plan a marriage trap." Elena moved closer, studying Aria's face like she was reading a book. "But you have kind eyes. Sad, but kind. And you are scared of me, which means you are smart."

"I am not terrified."

"You are gripping that throw pillow like it's a life raft." Elena gestured at Aria's hands. "Let it go, dear. I do not bite. Much."

Aria released the pillow and forced herself to breathe. "Would you like some coffee? Tea? Leon has this whole bar cart thing"

"Whiskey. Neat. The good stuff, not whatever swill Leon keeps for guests."

Aria blinked. "It's four in the afternoon."

"Is there a rule about when I can drink in my own grandson's penthouse?" Elena settled onto the couch like a queen claiming a throne. "Besides, I'm seventy-six. I have earned the right to drink whenever I damn well please."

Despite her nerves, Aria smiled. She poured two fingers of what looked like expensive scotch and brought it to Elena.

"Aren't you having any?" Elena asked.

"I don't usually drink in the afternoon either."

"Suit yourself." Elena took a sip and made an approving sound. Now sit. Tell me everything. And don't lie—I can smell a lie from three blocks away.

Aria perched on the edge of the opposite couch. What do you want to know?

"Did you plan to marry my grandson?"

No.

"Did you know who he was when you signed those papers?"

"I knew his name. I didn't know... him."

"Do you love him?"

The question hit like a punch. "I barely know him."

"That's not what I asked."

Aria met Elena's eyes. No. I don't love him. I am not even sure I like him most of the time.

Elena's face broke into a delighted smile. Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

"That is perfect?"

Every other woman who has chased Leon claimed to love him within five minutes of meeting him. Love his money, love his power, love his face." Elena waved her hand dismissively. "You are honest. That is refreshing."

"He doesn't think I'm honest. He thinks I'm a gold-digger."

Leon thinks everyone's a gold-digger. His father thought everyone was trying to steal from him. His mother thought everyone was lying." Elena's expression softened. Paranoia runs in the family and so does stubbornness. And a regrettable tendency to push away anyone who might actually care about them.

Aria didn't know what to say to that.

Tell me about your family, Elena said, changing direction like a chess player moving pieces. The Hales. Old money, new scandal. Your sister was supposed to marry Leon, right?

Ariana. Yes.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know. She disappeared the morning of the wedding. Sent me a text saying she had an emergency." Aria's hands twisted in her lap. "I went to deliver her documents and somehow ended up married instead."

And your parents? What do they think of all this?

Aria's laugh was bitter. "They don't know yet. I've been avoiding their calls."

"Why?"

"Because they'll blame me. They always do." The words spilled out before Aria could stop them. Ariana is the favorite. “The perfect daughter.” I am just the one who handles things when she can't be bothered."

Elena's eyes sharpened. "How long have they made you feel invisible?"

The question was so direct, so painfully accurate, that Aria's throat closed. "My whole life."

"And Leon? Does he make you feel invisible too?"

Aria thought about it. About Leon's intensity, his attention, the way he looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle. "No. He sees me. He just doesn't like what he sees."

Nonsense. He is terrified of what he sees. Elena finished her whiskey and set the glass down with a decisive click. That boy has been alone for too long. Built too many walls. Trusted too few people. And then you stumble into his life and accidentally become the one thing he can't control.

"I'm not trying to control anything."

"Exactly. That's why you're dangerous to him." Elena leaned forward. "Can I give you some advice, Aria?"

"Please."

"Do not apologize for existing. Do not make yourself smaller to make him comfortable. And for God's sake, don't let him treat you like you're temporary." Elena's voice went fierce. "You're a Mercer now, whether it was planned or not. Act like it."

Before Aria could respond, the elevator chimed again.

Leon's voice carried down the hallway before he appeared. "Whose luggage is" He stopped dead when he saw Elena. "Grandmother. What are you doing here?"

"Visiting my grandson and his new wife. Is that a crime?"

"You cannot just show up unannounced."

"I'm seventy-six and worth two billion dollars. I can do whatever I want." Elena stood, somehow still commanding despite being a foot shorter than Leon. "Besides, someone had to meet this girl. You certainly weren't going to introduce us properly."

Leon's jaw clenched. His eyes cut to Aria. "What did she say to you?"

"That I'm dangerous and should stop apologizing for existing," Aria said honestly.

Elena beamed. "I like her, Leon. She listens."

Grandmother,

"Don't 'grandmother' me in that tone. I taught you better manners." Elena moved toward Leon and patted his cheek like he was six years old. "Now, I'm staying for dinner. I assume you were going to order something ridiculously expensive and unsatisfying. I've already called my chef. He will be here in an hour with real food."

"This is my home."

"And I'm your grandmother. Family trumps property rights." Elena sailed past him toward the guest wing. "I'll be in my usual room. Don't bother me until dinner. I need to rest after enduring traffic."

She disappeared down the hallway, leaving Leon and Aria alone in the living room.

Leon looked like he'd been hit by a truck. "I'm sorry. She's... a lot."

"I like her."

His head snapped toward Aria. "You do?"

She's honest, direct, does not pretend to be something she's not. Aria stood, gathering her laptop. "Plus she called me dangerous. I'm taking that as a compliment."

"It wasn't a compliment. It was a warning."

"To who? You or me?"

Leon moved closer, and that electricity crackled between them again. "Both."

They stood there, too close and too far apart at the same time. Aria could see the silver flecks in his gray eyes, the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed like he wanted to reach for her but wouldn't let himself.

"Your grandmother is staying for dinner," Aria said, her voice coming out quieter than intended.

"Apparently."

"Should I... dress up? Change? I don't know the protocol for dinner with your family."

You're fine as you are. Leon's eyes traveled over her—the messy bun, the coffee-stained sweater, the leggings. "She already likes you. That is more than most people get."

"Why do you sound upset about that?"

"I am not upset."

"You're definitely upset."

Leon's jaw clenched. My grandmother is the most perceptive person I know. If she likes you, it means she sees something in you. And if she sees something... He trailed off, running a hand through his hair. "It makes this harder."

"Makes what harder?"

"Keeping my distance. Remembering this is temporary." He looked at her, and the raw honesty in his eyes stole her breath. "Remembering I am not supposed to care."

The confession hung between them.

"Leon—"

"I need to change for dinner." He turned away, shutting down. We eat at seven. Try not to let my grandmother interrogate you too much.

He disappeared into his room, leaving Aria standing in the living room with her heart racing and her mind spinning.

Leon Mercer had just admitted he was starting to care.

And somehow, that was more terrifying than anything else that had happened.

Dinner was chaos in the best possible way.

Elena's chef had brought enough food to feed twelve people—roasted chicken, garlic mashed potatoes, glazed vegetables, fresh bread, and a chocolate torte that made Aria's mouth water just looking at it.

They sat at the massive dining table, Leon at the head, Elena to his right, Aria to his left. The seating arrangement felt significant, like Elena was forcing them into some kind of family unit.

This is delicious, Aria said after her first bite of chicken. Your chef is incredible.

Henri has been with me for thirty years. He knows my tastes. Elena turned to Leon. When was the last time you had a home-cooked meal, darling?

I eat at home.

You order takeout and eat over your laptop. That is not a meal. That is fuel. Elena speared a piece of chicken. "This is a meal. Shared with people who matter."

Leon's fork paused halfway to his mouth. Subtle, Grandmother.

"I'm seventy-six. I do not have time for subtle." Elena turned to Aria. "Tell me, dear. What do you do for work?"

"I work in marketing. Small firm, mostly local businesses." Aria felt Leon's attention on her. "Nothing exciting."

Do not downplay yourself. Marketing is storytelling, and good storytellers are rare. Elena's eyes gleamed. Leon told me you saved your company from bankruptcy with a single campaign. That is not nothing.

Aria's head snapped toward Leon. "You told her about that?"

Leon's expression was carefully neutral. "I may have mentioned it."

He called me yesterday specifically to tell me about it, Elena corrected. Went on for ten minutes about your strategy and execution. Very impressed, for someone who claims not to care.

Leon's face flushed. I was providing context.

You were bragging about your wife. Elena's smile was wicked. It was adorable.

"Grandmother."

What? Am I not allowed to embarrass my grandson at dinner? That is half the fun of being old. She turned back to Aria. He also mentioned you speak three languages. Which ones?

"English, Spanish, and French." Aria was still processing the fact that Leon had bragged about her. I studied abroad for college.

"Impressive. Leon barely speaks English properly, and that's his first language."

"That is not true."

"You grunt and glare at people. That is not communication, darling." Elena reached over and patted his hand. But you're learning. I can tell. Aria is good for you.

We barely know each other.

And yet you investigated her thoroughly. Called Sophia at seven in the morning. Told her to be especially kind. Elena's eyebrow arched. Do not bother denying it. Sophia and I had lunch today.

Leon looked like he wanted to sink through the floor. "You two are conspiring against me."

We are helping you, you stubborn child. Elena turned to Aria. "Has he shown you the family jewelry yet?"

"He mentioned something about it for the gala."

"The Mercer collection. Five generations of heirlooms. Very traditional. Very..." Elena waved her hand. "Old. But there is one piece you should wear. The emerald necklace."

Leon went very still. The emerald necklace isn't appropriate.

"It's perfect. Emeralds will complement her coloring beautifully."

That necklace is for, Leon stopped himself.

"For what?" Elena's voice went sharp. "For family? She is family, Leon. Legally, officially family."

"Temporarily family."

The word landed like a slap. Aria's chest tightened.

Elena's expression hardened. "Nothing is temporary if you stop treating it that way."

Silence fell over the table. The tension was so thick Aria could barely breathe.

"I don't need any special jewelry," Aria said quietly. Whatever Leon thinks is appropriate is fine.

"See what you've done?" Elena glared at Leon. You've made her small again. Apologetic. Diminished. She stood, her napkin dropping onto her plate. "I did not raise you to make women feel that way, Leon Gabriel Mercer."

Leon's face went pale at the use of his full name. I am protecting—

"You are hiding. Behind walls and rules and that ridiculous prenuptial agreement Marcus told me about." Elena moved to Aria and placed her hands on her shoulders. This girl did not ask to marry you. She didn't scheme or plan or manipulate. She was doing a favor for her ungrateful sister and ended up legally bound to a man who cannot see past his own trauma long enough to recognize a gift when it is handed to him.

"Grandmother, you don't understand—"

I understand that you are scared. I understand that Vanessa hurt you. I understand that your parents' marriage was a disaster and you swore you would never be vulnerable like they were." Elena's voice gentled. "But Aria is not Vanessa. She is not your mother. She is not anyone except herself. And she deserves better than being treated like a prison sentence."

Tears burned behind Aria's eyes. No one had ever defended her like this. No one had ever fought for her worth.

"Elena," Aria whispered. "It is okay. Really."

"It is not okay." Elena squeezed her shoulders. "But it will be. I'll make sure of it."

She kissed the top of Aria's head—a gesture so maternal it broke something loose in Aria's chest—and swept from the room.

"I am going to bed," Elena called over her shoulder. "You two figure it out yourselves. And Leon? The emerald necklace. That is not a suggestion."

The guest room door closed with a decisive click.

Aria and Leon sat in ringing silence.

"I'm sorry," Leon finally said. She shouldn't have

"She was right." Aria looked at him across the table. "About all of it."

"Aria—"

"I am not Vanessa. I am not trying to take anything from you. And I am tired of apologizing for existing in your space." Aria stood, her legs shaking but her voice steady. "I didn't ask for this marriage. But I am here. And for the next six months, I am your wife. You can keep treating me like I'm temporary, or you can try treating me like I'm a person who deserves basic respect."

She walked toward her room, then stopped at the hallway entrance.

"And Leon? Your grandmother is right about one more thing."

"What's that?"

Aria looked back at him. "I'm not the one who needs to be protected. You are. From yourself."

She left him sitting alone at the table.

Aria was in bed, trying to read and failing, when a knock sounded on her door.

"Come in," she called, expecting Elena.

Leon stepped inside instead.

He was in pajamas pants and a t-shirt, the most casual she'd ever seen him. His hair was messy, like he had been running his hands through it. He looked younger. Vulnerable.

Human.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Aria set down her book. "Sure."

Leon moved to the window, staring out at the city lights. "My parents had the worst marriage I have ever witnessed. They fought constantly. Cheated on each other. Used me as a weapon in their battles." His voice was flat, emotionless. "When I was twelve, my mother left. Just walked out one day and never came back. My father blamed me. Said if I had been a better son, she would have stayed."

Aria's heart cracked. Leon

"I swore I would never be like them. Never vulnerable. Never dependent on someone who could leave." He turned to face her. "Then Vanessa happened. And she proved I was right to build walls. Because the one time I let them down, I nearly lost everything."

"I am not Vanessa."

"I know." He moved closer to the bed. "That is the problem. Because if you were Vanessa, I could hate you and keep my distance and count down the days until this ends. But you are not. You are kind and stubborn and brilliant. You make fun of my coffee and stand up to my grandmother and refuse to be intimidated by any of this."

Aria's breath caught. "What are you saying?"

"I am saying my grandmother is right. You scare me." Leon sat on the edge of her bed, maintaining careful distance. "Because I am starting to care. And caring means I can get hurt again. And I do not know if I can survive that a second time."

The confession hung in the air between them.

Aria reached out slowly, giving him time to pull away. When he didn't, she placed her hand over his.

"I'm scared too," she whispered. "I have spent my whole life being invisible. Being the daughter no one wanted. The sister who wasn't enough. And then I accidentally marry you, and suddenly I am seen. But it's terrifying because I do not know if I am enough for this world. For you."

Leon's hand turned, his fingers threading through hers. "You are more than enough."

"How do you know?"

"Because you survived dinner with my grandmother without breaking. Most people can't handle five minutes with her." His thumb brushed over her knuckles. "And because when I watched you tonight—defending yourself, standing up to me—I realized something."

"What?"

His eyes met hers, and the intensity there stole her breath. "I do not want this to be temporary anymore."

The world tilted.

"Leon—"

"I know it's insane. I know we barely know each other. I know this started as a mistake." His grip on her hand tightened. "But maybe... maybe we could try. Actually try. See if this could become something real."

Aria's heart hammered against her ribs. "You want to stay married?"

"I want to find out if this feeling I have when I am around you is real or just proximity and circumstances." He leaned closer. "I want to know if you feel it too. This thing between us."

"I feel it," Aria breathed. "I have felt it since you first walked into that registry."

Leon's eyes darkened. "Even when I was an ass to you?"

"Especially then. You made me so angry I forgot to be small." A smile tugged at her lips. "You made me feel alive."

"Aria." Her name was a prayer on his lips.

He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. When she didn't—when she met him halfway—his lips brushed against hers.

Soft. Tentative. Asking for permission.

Aria's hand slid into his hair, pulling him closer. Answering yes.

The kiss deepened, turning desperate. Leon's hand cupped her face, his thumb tracing her cheekbone. Aria's other hand fisted in his shirt, holding him to her like he might disappear.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Leon rested his forehead against hers.

"We are insane," he whispered.

"Completely," Aria agreed.

"This could be a disaster."

"Probably will be."

"But we are doing it anyway?"

Aria pulled back just enough to see his eyes. "We are already married. Might as well see if we can fall in love too."

Leon's smile was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. "Is that a challenge?"

"It's a possibility."

"I like possibilities." He kissed her again, slower this time. Savoring. "Fair warning—I'm not good at this. The relationship thing. The feelings thing."

"Good thing I am patient."

"You really are not."

"I know. We are both going to have to learn." Aria traced his jawline with her finger. "But maybe that's the point. Maybe we are supposed to figure it out together."

Leon caught her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. "Six months suddenly seems too short."

"We have time."

"Do we?" His expression grew serious. "The gala is in three days. People will ask questions. Your family will find out. Vanessa will make her move—she always does when I seem happy."

"Then we face it together." Aria's voice was steady. "You and me. Actually us."

"Us." Leon tested the word like it was foreign. "I like the sound of that."

"Me too."

He kissed her forehead and stood reluctantly. "I should go. Let you sleep. Big day tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow?"

Leon's smile turned wicked. "You are meeting the rest of my family. My mother arrived in the city today. She will want to inspect the woman who married her son."

Aria's stomach dropped. "You are joking."

"I really am not. She texted while I was investigating you. Demanded to meet you before the gala." He moved toward the door. "Fair warning—she makes my grandmother look warm and fuzzy."

"Leon Mercer, you cannot drop that bomb and just leave!"

"Watch me." He paused at the doorway. "Goodnight, wife."

"You are impossible!"

"And you're dangerous." He winked. "We are perfect for each other."

The door closed behind him, leaving Aria alone with her racing heart and the ghost of his kiss on her lips.

She touched her fingers to her mouth, still feeling the warmth of him.

Leon Mercer had just kissed her.

Leon Mercer wanted to try making this real.

Leon Mercer's mother was coming to inspect her tomorrow.

Aria flopped back onto her pillows and stared at the ceiling.

Her life had gone from invisible to insane in less than a week.

And the terrifying part?

She wouldn't change a single moment.