Find Her Yourself

Malcolm

She let out a deep sigh before speaking in that calm tone of hers, the same tone she always used whenever she knew she had crossed a line with me.

“At least greet your grandmother properly before bombarding her with questions,” she said while walking gracefully toward her seat, her eyes never leaving my face for even a second.

But I wasn’t in the mood for whatever little game she was trying to play.

“I didn’t come here for pleasantries,” I replied coldly while staring directly at her. “So answer me properly. Do you know anything about my sudden marriage?”

My patience was already wearing dangerously thin.

If there was one thing I hated more than anything, it was people beating around the bush, and Evelyn Grayson knew that better than anyone else.

“Yes,” she answered calmly before reaching for her cup of tea as though we were discussing the weather instead of the fact that I had somehow ended up married without my own knowledge.

I stared at her in disbelief.

“Yes?” I repeated sharply. “That’s all you have to say?”

She took a slow sip from her tea before lifting her eyes back to me.

“Well,” she said smoothly, “that was the only question you asked.”

The frustration building inside me nearly snapped at that point.

“Sit first, Malcolm,” she added calmly, completely unbothered by my mood.

I clenched my jaw tightly.

I knew exactly how my grandmother operated. If I refused to play along with her little games, she would simply avoid every question I asked, so despite how irritated I already was, I still walked over and sat across from her.

“You want some tea?” she asked while reaching for the teapot.

“Who is Imogen Fisher?” I asked immediately, cutting her off before she could pour anything.

She raised a brow slowly.

“You truly don’t want to have a proper conversation with your grandmother first?”

“Evelyn Grayson,” I said slowly, my voice turning colder by the second, “I’ve been patient enough with you already, so don’t test me.”

For the first time since arriving, I completely lost my calm tone.

“And tell me,” I added sharply while leaning slightly forward, “when exactly did you get me to sign something like that?”

To my disbelief, she burst into laughter.

Actual laughter.

She leaned back slightly in her chair while laughing as though my entire situation amused her endlessly.

“You see?” she said between laughs while wiping the corner of her eyes. “That was actually the first question I hoped you would ask.”

I simply stared at her.

Once she finally calmed down, she answered casually.

“It happened two years ago when I visited you at your office.”

I frowned immediately while trying to remember because she visited often enough that nothing specific came to mind.

“You were busy speaking on the phone,” she continued, “and when I handed you the marriage certificate to sign, you signed it without even looking at it properly because you wanted to get your grandmother off your back.”

She waved her hand dismissively.

“That’s exactly what you did immediately after signing it too. You waved me off.”

Then she started laughing again.

Unbelievable.

Embarrassment mixed with frustration almost instantly because how careless could I possibly have been to sign something that important without checking it first?

And the worst part was the fact that she clearly found the entire thing entertaining.

“So who is she?” I asked coldly after she finally stopped laughing.

For once, Evelyn became quieter.

“A random girl I met one night,” she answered casually.

My eyes widened immediately as I got up from my seat.

“What?”

“Well,” she replied with a shrug, “if you had simply gotten married when I told you to, none of this would’ve happened.”

Now she was blaming me?

“So what exactly are you trying to imply?” I asked while narrowing my eyes dangerously at her.

She raised a brow calmly.

“If you truly want to know who your wife is, Malcolm, then find her yourself.”

It sounded less like an answer and more like a challenge thrown directly into my face.

And Evelyn knew very well that I never backed away from challenges.

“What does she look like?” I asked because at that point, I needed something—anything—to work with.

I had already searched the name Imogen Fisher, and unfortunately far too many women carried that exact same name.

And for all I knew, the woman might not even live in this city anymore.

“How exactly am I supposed to remember the face of a girl I saw for barely an hour two years ago?” Evelyn scoffed lightly.

Liar.

“And besides,” she added with another careless shrug, “everything is blurry now.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

This woman was genuinely going to kill me before my time.

“And the court?” I questioned sharply. “Why are they refusing to release information?”

That smile appeared on her face again.

“Your life has become painfully boring lately,” she said calmly while taking another sip from her tea. “So I decided to give you a little fun. You have connections too, don’t you? Find her yourself.”

There it was again.

To Evelyn Grayson, everything was some sort of game.

Unfortunately for her, it was a game I was fully willing to play.

“I’m honestly disappointed in you, Grandma,” I muttered while sitting back down slowly.

“Well,” she fired back almost immediately, “I’m even more disappointed in you for constantly ignoring your grandmother whenever she begged you to get married.”

Her words made me pause slightly.

Now that I thought about it, her constant pressure about marriage had suddenly stopped two years ago.

At the time, I had been relieved.

Now I realized I had simply been a fool.

All this while, she had already been controlling everything behind my back.

My cunning grandmother.

I reached for my phone immediately and dialed Sebastian.

“It seems my visit to Mrs. Grayson was pointless,” I said coldly once he answered. “So do everything within your power to find this so-called wife of mine.”

I ended the call afterward before lifting my eyes back toward my grandmother whose lips had curved into a victorious smirk.

Almost immediately, another call entered my phone.

Ciara Daniels.

An old friend of mine.

I answered the call without hesitation.

“Malcolm, what is this I’m seeing online about you being married?” her shocked voice came through immediately, sounding as though she could barely believe what she had read.

And because I already knew exactly how she felt about me, I answered without thinking too deeply about it.

“They’re just rumors,” I said calmly.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed my grandmother raise a brow knowingly at me.

“Oh thank goodness,” Ciara breathed out in relief. “I was starting to wonder how you could possibly get married without telling me first.”

But I already knew the real reason behind her relief.

Ciara Daniels had been in love with me for as long as I could possibly remember.

And knowing that…

I lied.