How Old Is Mark Grayson At The End Of Invincible Novels & Stories

“The kids are fine and late. I need to get them to school.” Greyson seized my arm, curling his fingers around my bicep. “The paramedics are going to be a while. They suggest driving to the nearest hospital. St Mary’s isn’t far and my car may still work. Let me take you there.” “Really, there’s no need. They’re fine.” Isaac stumbled out of my car, his face sheet white, complaining of nausea. “Miss Smithson, I insist.” He tightened his grip on my arm. “Honestly, we’re all fine.” I struggled to free myself from his death grip.

Finally getting to the Gray mansion, Eve stopped the car right in front of the main mansion not bothering to part rightly before cling out of the car followed by Ella. “Welcome back, Miss Gray.” “Welcome back.” The servants greeted them as they walked into the mansion. Staring at each one of them, she nodded. Their innocent faces would make it so hard for her to find who the offender was but no matter what, she was going to find out who it was that tried and is still trying to send her father to the afterlife.

Only the last rod slipped through his defense, piercing his body with a thunk. Thanks to crisis alert, this one strike hit the least vital spot—just his left shoulder. No organs were harmed. The room's door was kicked open. Several people poured in—young and old, men and women. These were the remaining Finley family members, including some of the mistresses. "Silvan!" Grayson, despite being in his seventies, moved with surprising agility. Years of training had kept him fit, clearly no stranger to physical exertion—otherwise, how could he still handle two women in bed at night?

he explained and I shrugged, not caring in the least. "Why would you die from the change?" He grinned slightly and explained that his temperature runs high and the change would literally cook him. I shuddered and looked up at him as I turned to face him. I told him I was sorry and he said it was alright. I kissed him sweetly and he held me lovingly within his arms as we continued moving forward. "Trym told me he was only twenty three," I mumbled and Greyson laughed. "He's twenty three hundred or two thousand three hundred years old, like you are Twenty five hundred," he replied and I furrowed my brow.

It was none other than his own father! Mr. Talon walked closer until he was finally near us. He then placed the gift he was carrying on the table. Grayson, who had been lying face down, immediately straightened his clothes and stood up. As for me, I was confused about whether to sit or stand. But then when I tried to stand up, Grayson held my shoulder so I sat back down. "She's not a minor. Her name is Quinn, 21 years old, my girlfriend. And this is none of your business. So once you're done with your business, please leave."

Carter said, standing next to his parents while his brothers walked over to Mark and me. "Mark, you're doing well taking care of Olivia," Mr. and Mrs. Grayson said, their faces excited, and I glanced at Mark, who smiled and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. He didn't mind that they could be my real parents. He smiled and said, "It's my responsibility to take care of Olivia." "Alright, let's go in," Mr. Felix Grayson said, and we nodded and walked silently into the hospital lobby.

“You will tell me, Grayson. Now.” Winston stepped forward, his face pale. “Marcus, please,” he stuttered. “Think about this. He’s scared. Maybe there’s another way—” I didn’t look away from Grayson. “Do you want to die for this secret?” I hissed, pressing the blade a little harder against his skin. “Because I am very close to ending this right here.” Grayson’s eyes filled with tears, his body trembling. “Please, Master Marcus. I gave my word. If I tell you, what kind of man am I?”

Gray and I also got out of the car before Marcus locked the car remotely. We had driven for about twenty minutes. Marcus kept on walking ahead of us and we just followed till we reach a beach. Gray and I glanced at each other, shrugged and focused back on where we are going. “Uncle Marcus.” A little boy of about five years old called running towards Marcus. “Oh look! Marcus has got a son.” Gray mused.

And Grayson was only twenty-four-years old. Grayson saw this as a way out. He never wanted to become a burden. To have to be cared for by others or lose all the parts of himself that made him who he was. More importantly, he didn’t want Amber or Leo or anyone else he loved to have to go through it either. To watch him go from an independent, reasonably healthy man in the prime of his life turn into someone else, some angry, bedridden stranger with no quality of life. In the billionaire’s mind, this was the perfect opportunity. It spared him from taking his own life or asking it of his best friend.

His blank expression remained, "Things changed so fast. I already expect that because somehow this new me is way more powerful than before. Killing people made me realize the things I didn't realize before, and I am thanking you for doing that..." Grayson grab my wrist and pulled me away from them, he didn't wait his father's answer and I didn't look back either. Whatever problem they have, it's going to end sooner and I hope it won't required taking someone's life. I pull my wrist away and confront him, "I'm checking your grandmother, she might need someone to talked." "That's a good idea. Stay with her and don't leave her side. I have to find Asher and Nicholas," he muttered.