Grayson Hall Novels & Stories

Grayson. Of course it was him and his creepy stalking. I clenched my fist angrily. This is fucking manipulation. Definitely him trying to soften me up, trying to make me think he actually cared, trying to get under my skin and maybe break my walls just so he can hurt me again like he always did. But I was no fool. I might have been once, but never again. No matter how much he pretended, I knew him. Grayson Holt doesn’t care about anything or anyone but himself. And he never does anything without some cruel hidden intention behind it.

Grayson’s terse text. She spotted him waiting beside his sleek black SUV in a dimly lit corner. Mr. Grayson, 48 years old, stood tall and imposing. His broad shoulders filled out his tailored suit. Silver hair showed at his temples. He radiated authority. A calm, predatory smile touched his lips when he saw her. “Raven,” he said simply. As she got closer she wondered what he had got on her bed on the text he sent and how bad it was. She stood in front of him and she suddenly felt like she couldn't breathe with the way the next few minutes played out.

He sighed, "I would have got here sooner but the earliest flight wasn't until this morning and I had to pay in person." I pulled back, feeling ridiculously pathetic as I wiped at my eyes, probably smearing whatever was left of yesterday's mascara. I glanced up at him, my breath catching as I took in the familiar face I'd missed so much. Grayson was towering at six foot six, dark-skinned, his short dreads framing his face. With those dark, expressive eyes and that easy smile, he looked the part of his profession. He had double piercings on both ears, adding a rebellious touch to his otherwise laid-back look. He studied my swollen face, his gaze softening as he let out a deep chuckle. "Damn, B

I had spent all my money on his care, so maybe that's why he got angry when he found out I had stopped my education at that time. Ah, my tears are falling again. I quickly wipe them away because I don't want Dylan to see me crying. If he didn't see me cry when he was alive, then he shouldn't see me cry now. Hey, I don't want him to mock me up there! Ding. Oh, I have a new message on my phone. It's from Grayson. He'll be here soon. As for Grayson, he is certainly continuing his dream and his work as an athlete. Now he is even a respected senior because his personality has completely changed. He has become a very wise person and is no longer as foul-mouthed as he used to be.

Grayson gritted his teeth and said, "There's nothing good about that woman!" "Goodness me. So you called us up today because your wife bullied you, huh? Come on, tell us what she did. We'll stand up for you! I'm sure we'll be able to handle her!" said Tristan. Tristan Saunders was the owner of Liquor Den. He and Grayson had been best buddies since they were kids. He was infamous for being a playboy. He was handsome and rich and changed girlfriends like he changed clothes. Tristan was the relationship guru of their friend group.

Grayson left, chuckling, and closed the door behind him. Shayla leaned against the sink and looked at herself in the mirror. Her hair was a mess. Her lips were swollen from kissing. There were faint marks on her neck, collarbone and the valley between her breasts from Grayson's mouth. She looked thoroughly ravaged. And she had never felt more beautiful. --- Grayson cleared the dishes from the bedroom and was heading back to the lounge when his phone rang. Lucas. He answered immediately. "Yes?"

He winked at me before walking down the stairs and rushing toward his car as I looked at the glass of orange juice and pushing it aside. “Rough night?” A man asked from beside me. I raised an eyebrow and turned to look at him, watching as he smiled. His hand had a phoenix tattoo, and judging by his scent, I could tell that the man was an Alpha. “And you’re choosing to forget about it by drinking orange juice?” “I don’t drink alcohol.” I said, and he chuckled before nodding at my stomach. “I can tell, your child’s heartbeat beats you to that.” He said, and I laughed. He extended his hand to me, and I raised an amused eyebrow. “Malakai, but friends call me Kai.”

“So, who are you? Mister?” Gray answered, “Just a fanboy.” He extended his hand for a handshake. As Hailey shook his hand, Gray leaned in and whispered something in her ear. “I am Gray Thompson.” After secretly revealing his name, he moved back and pointed to Victoria, “I came here to support Victoria because I am her fan.” ‘Gray Thompson!’ Hailey shouted in her mind. ‘Isn’t he the billionaire chef who owns hundreds of restaurants all over the world?’ Realizing that her eyes looked alternately at Gray and Victoria.

Not ever. Then came the coronation. Caisen, dressed like the heir Edward never deserved, taking over Lucian’s underworld as if he’d been born with the crown. I stood in the back, smoke curling from my fingers, a drink sweating in my palm. And across the hall, framed in low light and too many stares—Grayson. Older now. Broader. Eyes sharp enough to cut me open from across the room. And when he looked at me, it was like being shot without a bullet.

~Grayson As I stand around waiting for the spoiled brat to come out of the dressing room, my eyes roam about the store. I have just taken interest in a space sectioned off from the rest by a glass door, with several mannequins displaying clothes either made or lined with furs when a soft, silky voice comes from behind me. “Gray.” I’m startled at first before I turn to meet face-to-face with Renata. Her face is devoid of any makeup and expression as she stares at me. Even her lips which are usually shaded a wine red maintain their natural light pink colour.