Grace Trevelyan Grey Novels & Stories

Grey was unbothered. "You should be grateful that I gave you something, Ace. You deserve nothing from me. Would you risk your properties if you were in my shoes? How can I trust you with my properties when you can't even win the trust of your wife? What if you end up spending everything on women? What if you betrayed me the same way you did to your wife?" Mr. Grey slammed his hands on the desk angrily, and Ace bit his bottom lip as he ran his fingers through his hair.

My name is Liliana Grey but since I joined the Terrance family I changed my name to Liliana Terrance. I was born and raised in America, California Los Angeles, but moved to New York when I got adopted back when I was 10. I was a college student taking psychology department in New York. I stayed at the dorm since it's near and to save myself from my oversleeping habit. Today seems to be my seventeenth birthday and I am planning to go back home to celebrate since the summer holiday is also heading near. I was walking in the hallway with tons of books to carry. I head to my locker and put the books inside easing my hand that has gone numb from carrying it.

Hanging my bag on my shoulder, I followed him outside, stroking out of his room as we made our way to the main hall. “Have you gone insane, Christian? How could you do that to Katherine—” the woman’s voice quickly halted immediately I reached her sight, stepping away from the shadow of Professor Grey. “Hannah didn’t inform me you had a guest.” Her eyes stilled on me for a second more before pushing back to the man. “Good day to you too, Brown,” Professor Grey greeted her before introducing me to her. “Brown, this is Ms. Julianna Gabbys.” “Hi there, it’s nice meeting you,” said the woman to me. She appeared really nice too. She was probably the only person associated with Professor Grey who s

Evelyn was a woman notorious for systematically dissecting corporate facades, and her presence inside the private residence was a massive, calculated tactical gamble that Elias had engineered himself to quiet the market murmurs. Grace sat elegantly on the low-profile, charcoal wool sofa, a crystal teacup resting balanced on her lap to keep her hands from visibly shaking. She wore a beautifully structured, cream-colored cashmere knit dress that radiated an aura of effortless, old-money domestic security. Her hair was styled in soft, cascading waves, and her makeup was a masterclass in minimalist perfection. But beneath the soft cashmere, her skin was cool, and her pulse was ticking with a ten

She exploded into a fit of giggles, and I almost wanted to join her. “Gracelyn,” The familiar sounding hard edge had returned to Grey’s voice. “Go help pass out blankets.” She rolled her eyes dramatically, just for me, and skipped out the door. Oh, to be a clueless child again. I watched her go and turned back to Grey, stiffening when I saw that he was already looking my way. “Something happened.” He said matter-of-factly. “You’re back too soon.”

She patted her unwrinkled gown, a task which must have taken her long-suffering personal maid hours with the smoothing stones. Ava held her tongue, hoping her wince had gone unnoticed. “Damn!” “It’s easily sorted,” Finn said. She told herself she wouldn’t look at him. It was too distracting. The urge to pee came from nowhere and she tried to think of something else, pressing her legs together beneath the concealing dress. “True. What do I care if they call me a child murderer?” Grace was inspecting her fingernails now, having pointedly displayed her earrings, an ancient pair which had once belonged to their mother. Her attire was powder blue in colour and made a brilliant setting for the sil

I set the box down and let my eyes travel over the interior: scuffed floors, peeling wallpaper, a living room that could be cozy if you didn’t look too hard at the water stain on the ceiling. A new beginning, I told myself. It's not a perfect one. But one I can control. I was halfway back down the porch steps when I heard a car crunching over the gravel drive. I turned, already bracing because my body had learned to brace before it learned to trust. A small SUV rolled to a stop, and Grace climbed out like she owned the whole world and didn’t see why anyone else should argue with her about it. She was seventy two and still walked with the stubborn stride of someone who’d survived too much to

, Nina Morrison only feels ironically. How could she forget that Lucien Gray has always been accompanied by women. The former Fiona Turner, then young model, and now the four – line star, she see all of them with her own eyes. Not even the women she doesn't know, maybe there are more... In the car, Chrystal White looks at the handsome side face of Lucien Gray, regretting and disappointed. For Lucien Gray, the CEO of Gray Family, she has been a fan of him for a long time. All the sisters in the circle say that he is not only handsome and rich, but also generous. This time, Lucien Gray comes to her. She thinks she could be Mrs. Gray, but he only wants to do business with her.

The Greys. Dominic Grey—the patriarch with a reputation as notorious as it was feared. His wife, Alice Grey, once a prostitute, a woman from the shadows but is highly paid at the suburbs of Las Vegas who had been Christopher Bishop’s lover long before she was Dominic’s wife. Their children—Jewel Grey, born from Dominic and Alice, and Jace Grey—an enigma. Jace Grey, the adopted son whose origins were a blank slate, a ghost erased from every record. The perfect son, the ideal heir—yet nobody knew where he came from. Why had Dominic taken him in so willingly? What unseen hand had placed Jace into this lineage?

Grace stepped out. She wasn't wearing her yellow raincoat anymore. She was wrapped in a simple indigo shawl, her hair wild. But it was her eyes that stopped everyone on the deck. They weren't blue. They weren't gold. They were a deep, obsidian black—exactly like Jinyan’s had been when he was "Corrected." "The noise," Grace whispered. "It’s so... ugly." She looked at Arthur Vincent. She didn't raise her hand. She didn't command him. She simply walked toward him, her footsteps silent on the blood-slicked deck.