I rehearsed what I wanted to say to Grayson a hundred times in my head as I walked toward the Cross mansion. My throat still ached from Victor’s grip, the bruises faint but undeniable. Grayson needed to know what his father had done—how far Victor was willing to go to silence me.
But as I approached the tall iron gates, my steps faltered. What if Grayson didn’t believe me? What if he brushed it off like everything else?
I shook my head, steeling myself. No. He needed to hear the truth, no matter how much it hurt.
The front door was slightly ajar, which was unusual. I pushed it open and stepped into the grand foyer, the echo of my footsteps filling the space. Grayson stood at the bottom of the staircase, his hands stuffed into his pockets, his gaze fixed on the floor.
“Grayson,” I called out, my voice softer than I intended.
He looked up slowly, and the expression on his face made my stomach drop. His usual guarded demeanor was gone, replaced with something cold and unrecognizable.
“Lila,” he said flatly, his tone devoid of any emotion. “I was waiting for you.”
I hesitated, the words I had practiced suddenly stuck in my throat. “I need to tell you something—about your father. He—”
“Don’t,” he interrupted, his voice sharp and cutting. “I don’t want to hear it.”
I blinked, taken aback. “Grayson, he almost—”
“I said stop,” he snapped, taking a step closer. His eyes, usually so full of unspoken emotions, were hard and distant.
“What’s wrong with you?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why are you acting like this?”
He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head. “You really don’t get it, do you, Lila?”
“Get what?” I demanded, my heart pounding.
“This,” he said, gesturing between us. “It was never real. You were nothing but a distraction.”
The air left my lungs, and I stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about?”
He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I used you, Lila. I thought keeping you close would make things easier for me, but I guess I underestimated how clingy you’d get.”
“You don’t mean that,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I know you don’t.”
He stepped closer, towering over me, his expression unreadable. “You don’t know anything about me,” he said coldly.
Tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “You’re lying,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ve seen the way you look at me, Grayson. The way you protect me. You care about me, whether you want to admit it or not.”
He scoffed, turning away from me. “You’re delusional.”
“Then look me in the eye and say it,” I challenged, my voice rising. “Tell me you don’t care about me, and I’ll leave. I’ll walk out of here and never come back.”
He stopped in his tracks, his back to me. For a moment, I thought he might actually do it—that he’d turn around and drive the final nail into the coffin. But he didn’t move.
“Grayson,” I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper.
When he finally turned back to face me, his expression was blank, but his hands were trembling at his sides.
“Just leave, Lila,” he said, his voice cracking ever so slightly. “You don’t belong here. You never did.”
I took a step toward him, desperate to reach the part of him that I knew was still in there. “If you don’t care about me, then why are your hands shaking?”
His eyes darkened, and he clenched his fists, as if willing himself to stay composed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said through gritted teeth.
“It matters to me,” I said, my voice breaking.
Grayson shook his head, his jaw tight. “You don’t understand. You never will.”
“Then make me understand,” I pleaded. “Tell me why you’re doing this, why you’re trying so hard to push me away.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he brushed past me, his shoulder bumping mine as he headed for the door.
“Grayson!” I called after him, but he didn’t stop.
I watched him leave, my heart shattering with every step he took. He slammed the door behind him, the sound echoing through the empty mansion.
I sank onto the staircase, my legs giving out beneath me. The tears I had been holding back finally spilled over, blurring my vision as I clutched my chest.
Why was he doing this? Why was he lying to me?
The image of his trembling hands and the crack in his voice replayed in my mind. He cared—I knew he did. So why was he trying so hard to convince me otherwise?
I barely made it back to the apartment before everything came crashing down. As soon as the door closed behind me, my legs gave out, and I collapsed to the floor, sobbing uncontrollably.
The betrayal felt like a physical blow—sharp and suffocating. Every word Grayson had said replayed in my mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.
“I used you, Lila. You were nothing but a distraction.”
My chest tightened, and I struggled to catch my breath, the pain of his words making it feel impossible to breathe.
“How did my life turn into this nightmare?”