The front doors blew open before Klara’s hand even touched them.Cold morning air swept in, curling through the foyer like a cursed spirit.And there he stood.Grayson.Tall, crisp suit, shirt open at the throat. Calm, collected, and far too comfortable in a house that didn’t welcome him with open arms.His eyes skimmed the room once—Roman, Tessa, Salima, Nandini, before landing on the suitcase at Klara’s side.His mouth tipped into a slow, knowing smirk.“Going somewhere, sweetheart?”Klara froze. Her throat snapped shut. Her pulse climbed into her ears.She whispered, barely a breath, “What are you doing here?”Grayson didn’t even look at her fully. He leaned in just enough for only she—and fortunately no one else in the silent foyer—to hear.“Relax, blondie,” he murmured. “I can see your forehead creasing. If I wanted to burn you alive, you’d already be screaming.”Klara’s stomach plunged. Her fingers tightened around the suitcase handle until her knuckles cracked.He straightened,
Last Updated : 2025-11-20 Read more