CHAPTER SIX

I stared at him, my brain refusing to process what my eyes were showing me.

Grayson Holt.

Here. In this car. After paying fifty million dollars to own me for twelve days.

This couldn't be happening. This was a nightmare. Some kind of cosmic joke designed specifically to destroy whatever fragile pieces of myself I'd managed to glue back together over the past decade.

"No," I said, my voice coming out strangled. "Absolutely not. I am not doing this."

Grayson's expression remained maddeningly calm, like he'd expected this reaction. 

Of coyse he should expect it because was I supposed to throw myself in his arms in absolute glee?

"I'm afraid you don't have a choice, Eva. The contract is signed. The money has already been transferred to the hospital. There's no going back now."

"The hell there isn't," I snapped, reaching for the door handle. "I'll find another way. I'll—"

"Another way to do what?" he asked. "What do you need the money for, Eva? Why are you here?"

"That's none of your goddamn business," I shot back.

His eyes narrowed slightly. "You just sold yourself to a stranger for twelve days. That's not something people do on a whim. So what's going on? Medical bills? Debt? Are you in some kind of trouble?"

"Stop," I said, my voice shaking now. "Stop pretending you care. Stop acting like you give a damn about what happens to me."

"I do care," he said quietly.

"Liar," I spat. "You saw my name on that auction list and couldn't resist the opportunity to torment me one more time. That's what this is. Some sick, twisted game where you get to relive your glory days of making my life absolute hell."

"That's not why I'm here," Grayson said, his voice harder now.

"Then why? Why would you pay fifty million dollars for me? Why would you spend that kind of money unless you wanted to own me? To control me? To prove once and for all that you can still destroy me whenever you feel like it?"

"Because I wanted to make sure no other man could have you," he said, the words coming out sharp and possessive in a way that made my skin prickle.

I stared at him. "You're insane. You're actually insane."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But I'm not letting you go back out there for some stranger to—"

"To what?" I interrupted. "To touch me? To own me? That's exactly what you just did, Grayson. You bought me. You paid money to have access to my body for twelve days. So don't you dare act like you're some kind of hero here."

His jaw clenched. "I'm not trying to be a hero. I'm trying to—"

"Let me guess," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "You missed having someone to torture? You spent the last ten years bored without a target? Well, congratulations. You found her again. But if you think I'm that same scared little girl who cried in bathroom stalls and begged you to leave her alone, then you have a lot coming."

"I never wanted you to beg," he said, something dangerous flickering in his eyes. "I never wanted you to cry. I never wanted any of it."

"Really?" I laughed, the sound bitter and broken. "Because you seemed pretty happy about it at the time. You and your friends had a grand time humiliating me every single day for four years. So forgive me if I don't believe your sudden change of heart."

"It wasn't sudden," he said. "It's been ten years, Eva. Ten years of—"

"I would rather die than spend twelve days with you," I said, cutting him off. "I would rather take my chances with whatever consequences come from breaking this contract than give you the satisfaction of having me trapped here."

His expression shifted, confusion replacing the anger. "What consequences? Eva, what are you talking about? If you need money that badly, just tell me what's going on. I can help without—"

"I don't want your help!" I shouted. "I don't want anything from you except to be left alone!"

We glared at each other in the darkness of the car, the tension so thick I could barely breathe through it. Outside, the snow was falling harder now, blanketing the world in white silence.

"You think you know me," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "You think you can just swoop in and fix whatever problems I have with your money and your power and your ridiculous rescue fantasy. But you don't know anything about my life. You don't know what I've been through since you destroyed me. You don't know what it took to rebuild myself after you broke me so completely I couldn't recognize my own reflection."

"Then tell me," he said, leaning forward. "Tell me what you've been through. Tell me why you're here."

"Why?" I demanded. "So you can use it against me? So you can find new ways to hurt me? I learned my lesson the first time, Grayson. I'll never give you ammunition to destroy me again."

Something cracked in his expression. Something that looked almost like pain. But I didn't care. I couldn't afford to care.

"I'm not trying to hurt you," he said quietly.

"Right," I said. "Because you've given me so many reasons to trust you over the years. Remind me again—was it when you spray-painted 'fat ugly bitch' on my locker? Or when you posted my naked photo online and destroyed my entire life? Or maybe it was when you told me you'd rather cut off your own hands than touch me? Which one of those loving gestures should convince me you're not here to torture me?"

He flinched like I'd slapped him. "Eva—"

"Save it," I said. "I don't want to hear your excuses.”

The car slowed to a stop before he could respond.

The driver's voice came through the intercom. "We've arrived, Mr. Holt."

Grayson's eyes never left mine. "We'll continue this inside."

"There's nothing to continue," I said. "This is a business transaction. Nothing more. You paid for twelve days of my time, and you'll get exactly that. But don't expect me to pretend this is anything other than what it is."

I got out of the car before he could respond, and immediately wished I hadn't.

The cabin was breathtaking. Massive floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked a frozen lake surrounded by snow-covered pines. Warm light spilled from the interior, making the whole structure glow like something from a Christmas card. A stone pathway led to the entrance, already cleared of snow, and smoke curled from a chimney somewhere above.

It was the kind of place people dreamed about. The kind of place that should have made me feel safe and warm and cared for.

Instead, I felt like I was staring at the most beautiful prison cell ever designed.

I marched toward the entrance, my heels clicking sharply against the stone, my blood boiling with every step.

Why hadn't Cynthia warned me? She knew what Grayson had done to me. She knew the history between us. How could she let this happen?

Unless she didn't know he'd entered the auction. Unless he'd convinced her somehow. Manipulated her the way he'd manipulated everyone else.

I pushed through the front door and stopped just inside, my anger momentarily derailed by the sheer luxury surrounding me.

The interior was even more stunning than the exterior. Exposed wooden beams crisscrossed the vaulted ceiling. A massive stone fireplace dominated one wall, already crackling with a fire that filled the space with warmth. Plush furniture in deep grays and creams invited comfort. The kitchen gleamed with stainless steel and marble countertops. Everything was perfect. Elegant. Expensive.

And I was too furious to appreciate any of it.

What was Grayson up to? What was his endgame here? Why would he spend such a ridiculous amount of money on me if it wasn't to satisfy that sick, twisted craving he had to watch me suffer?

I had to cancel this. Had to find a way out. Had to—

But it was either this, or Richardson.

Either twelve days with Grayson, or torture and death for both me and my mother.

I'd endured years of Grayson's cruelty before. But that would be nothing compared to what Richardson was capable of. Nothing compared to the pain that awaited me if I walked away from this deal.

So what were twelve days with a bastard I already knew?

I could survive this. I'd survived worse.

And this time, I wouldn't make it easy on him. This time, I'd fight back.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself, and turned around when I heard footsteps behind me.

Grayson walked in carrying our bags, and I was hit once again by how annoyingly, infuriatingly handsome he'd become. The boy I'd known had been beautiful in a cruel, untouchable way. The man standing before me now was devastating. Tall and broad-shouldered, with a jawline that could cut glass and eyes that seemed to see straight through me.

I hated that I noticed. Hated that some traitorous part of my brain still registered his attractiveness despite everything he'd done to me.

Once upon a time, I'd had the most pathetic crush on him. I'd written his name in the margins of my notebooks, doodled hearts around it like the lovesick fool I'd been. I'd fantasized about him asking me to prom, about him kissing me behind the bleachers, about him looking at me like I was something precious instead of something to destroy.

But that was before he'd decided I was the perfect target for his torment. Before he'd made it his personal mission to break me.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, setting the bags down near the entrance.

"That's none of your business," I said coldly.

His jaw tightened. "Eva—"

"You paid money for me," I interrupted. "I get it. I signed a contract, and I can't back down on my deals. And I'm sure you're thrilled about that. I'm sure you're already planning all the creative ways you're going to make the next twelve days absolute hell for me. I'm sure you can't wait to prove once again that you're superior, that you're in control, that you have all the power, and that I have none."

"That's not—"

"But here's the thing, Grayson," I continued, my voice steady and cold and sharp as a blade. "I'm not that scared little girl anymore. You can do whatever you want to me. You can humiliate me, degrade me, and hurt me in every way you can think of. But you will not break me. Not again. Not ever again."

"Fuck," he breathed, and dropped the bags.

He moved before I could react, crossing the distance between us in three long strides.

I froze, my brain short-circuiting as I stared down at him.

Grayson Holt. On his knees. In front of me.

"I'm not here to make your life hell," he said, his voice rough and raw in a way I'd never heard before. "I'm not here to hurt you or humiliate you or prove anything except that I'm the biggest fucking idiot who ever lived."

I couldn't speak. Couldn't move. Could barely breathe.

"I was hoping," he continued, looking up at me with those gray eyes that had haunted my nightmares for a decade, "that twelve days would be enough to make up for the pain I put you through. And even if it's not—even if twelve days isn't nearly long enough—maybe it would be enough to show you that I'm a better person now. To show you how much I love you."

The words hit me like a physical blow.

Love.

He said, "Love."

"I've always loved you, Eva," he said, his voice breaking on my name. "You were the only woman I ever loved. The only person who ever made me feel anything real. But the intensity of what I felt for you was too strong. Too much. It terrified me. It made me feel weak in ways my father had beaten out of me years before. And you were always looking at me like I was some kind of god, like I was perfect and untouchable and everything good in the world. So I did what any coward would do. I made you hate me instead."

I couldn't process this. Couldn't make sense of the words coming out of his mouth.

"And when you left," he continued, his hands clenching into fists against his thighs, "it ruined me. Completely destroyed me in ways I didn't think were possible. I looked for you everywhere, Eva. For ten years, I searched. Hired investigators. Traced every lead. And I couldn't find you. You disappeared like you'd never existed, and I—"

His voice cracked, and he looked away, his jaw working as he tried to compose himself.

"It broke something in me that never healed," he finished quietly. "My mother died. My father died. And neither of those losses even came close to what losing you felt like."