Beryl Grace Novels & Stories

I don't want you to possess me," she said quickly and I chuckled. "Her name is Gabriela Forrester," Grace tells me and I nodded my head as I pulled out my amulet. I debated if I should take it off or not and finally decided against it because I was less intimidating remaining as I was. I could see Jim was inside a vehicle and assumed he was heading to this place. "Is this Jim's basement," I asked Grace and she shrugged. I watched Gabriela head towards a set of stairs and disappear up them. Grace was on her hands and knees blowing against the salt circle but the granules weren't moving.

"Please. Sit." Grace sat. Aiden sat next to her. Very close. Derek noticed and smiled. "So protective already." "What's that supposed to mean?" Aiden asked. "Nothing. Just an observation." Derek ordered wine. "So, Grace. What do you do?" "I'm a fashion designer." "Really? How fascinating. Your own business?" "Yes." "Impressive. Beauty and brains. Aiden's a lucky man." Aiden's hand went to Grace's knee under the table. Possessive.

There’s a knock on the office door, both Damon and Jessica share a look, no one bothers Damon when Jessica visits unless there’s an emergency. Damon says deeply. “Come in.” The door opens and Gracie walks in. She smiles and says. “Hi, I am Gracie Almada. I work with Beckett. I am a firefighter as well.” Damon frowns and narrows his eyes at her. He couldn’t help the feeling that came over him when he looked at her. She reminded him of the psycho bitch who tried to kill Jessica. “That doesn’t explain why you’re in my office right now. This is a private office. How did you even get back here?” He asks.

“Then we do this together.” Her phone buzzed again. A private number. One message. You’ve made a powerful enemy, Grace. This is your last chance to step back. She looked at Jordan and typed a single response. You should have stopped when you still had the chance. Outside, the city held its breath. Because Calder Hayes had made his last move. And Grace was about to end the game.

Backstage " I really don't understand her at all. She was the one that was so excited about everything yet she is nowhere to be found, what are going to do now?. It would look like we completely chickened out of the competition if we didn't perform today.'' Disappointed Grace buried her head in her palms as she sat on the chair in front of the mirror. Bella stood from a distance watching them and enjoying the torture, but she wasn't satisfied just yet. She wanted to rub more salt on their wounds, she felt like it was a necessity.

“Van Asten?” “Exactly.” Grace draws herself to her full height, her nostrils flaring as though she’s wrangling something inside her. Something worse than anger. “I told Elena to back off from the deal so I won’t get fired. She didn’t back off.” Mira smiles at me. “You can say Grace here has switched sides.” “Yes.” Grace holds her hand out to me. “And I will do everything I can to bring Émeraude and Van Asten down.”

Once. “Purple lilies,” she said. Then, after a beat, “And Bailey, your password system is ridiculous.” Bailey sniffed. “Ungrateful people everywhere.” James opened the door. Cold rain swept in. Grace came through first. She wore her old blue cardigan over her nightgown, rubber boots on her feet, and an expression that suggested she was deeply annoyed with everyone currently alive. A bandage had been wrapped around her left forearm. Soot smudged one cheek. Her silver hair had come loose from its braid.

That was all I needed for an answer. Finally someone who can help me “ what the hell are you talking about?” he tried sounding confused but I saw the hesitation in her words “ drop the act! Tell me your real name Bella” I said. Since she knew I know her secret she dropped her act and replied “ Grace! Grace Watson” My eyes widened at her reply “ daughter of the late general Watson? Who mysteriously died in a house fire?” I asked “ you know me well! Then you must be from Salazar empire too” Grace replied

"And hear me well. You will never come near her. You will never touch her. Not with your bitterness, not with your poison. She will grown without ever knowing the venom that drips from your tongue." Grace's hand trembled slightly where it gripped her bag. "You think you can erase me?" "I don't need to erase you. You erased yourself." Her lips parted, words caught in her throat, and there it was, in her eyes, a flicker of doubt. A crack in the armor of superiority. I turned toward the salon door, my heels striking the pavement with purpose. My chest heaved, adrenaline rushing hot through my veins. "Bella!" Grace barked after me, her voice rising desperately. "You'll regret this! You'll see. Y

She peeled off her sunglasses like they were part of a performance. Emilia froze. Max stood abruptly, his paper falling to the floor. “Grace?” His voice was low, stunned. Grace Montague. The Grace Montague. International actress. Heiress. The daughter of a media mogul. Once dubbed America’s Tragic Darling after a tabloid whirlwind that involved rehab, lawsuits, and a high-profile disappearance to an ashram in Bali. She was also Max’s most public, most high-profile heartbreak. The only woman he’d ever spoken of in the past tense with anything resembling vulnerability.