Claimed By My Ex’s Stepbrother
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.”