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Forbidden Fate (Crowne Point 3)

Page 55

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I broke off as West got off the bed, down on one knee, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a ring. A fucking ring.

“What is that?” Alarm crawled into my throat. “What are you doing?”

“It’s a ring. A nice one. Cost a shit-ton.”

“You’re proposing to me on the day of my uncle’s funeral?” I put my head in my hands, making a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cry.

West peeled my hands away, and I saw he’d set the ring on my dresser.

“Why do you want this so much, West?” I finally snapped. “I know I can’t offer you anything. I don’t have a company. I don’t have billions of dollars. I’m not some model you can parade around.”

He grinned slowly. “I just want you, Angel.”

“What the fuck are you still doing down here?”

I looked over West’s shoulder, finding Grayson in the doorway. Somehow, he looked even worse than before. His hair was a mess, his eyes so red. West didn’t immediately let go of my hands. His grip tightened, and he stared at me for a long moment.

Then he stood up and turned to face Grayson. “I think that’s a question I should be asking you, bro.”

“How’d your jaw heal, bro.”

Tension oozed like earlier, but thicker and more oily.

“Get the fuck out, du Lac,” Grayson said.

West quirked his neck. “I don’t think this is your bedroom, dude.”

?

?She’s mine. Get out.”

West laughed. “Does my sister know you’re talking like that?”

“Who do you think you are telling him to leave?” I snapped. “Why are you even here, Grayson?”

His glare flashed to me. “Your uncle died, so maybe I’m here to fucking comfort you, Story.”

How dare you? You lost that right. Words got stuck in my throat like chewed gum with the way he looked at me.

West placed the shirt he’d been folding on top of the ring he’d just proposed to me with. “Think about what I asked, Story.”

Gray didn’t move out of the way for him, and he didn’t take his eyes off me as West knocked into his shoulder.

I was so, so tired. I couldn’t handle another fight.

“Gray—”

“Truce,” Grayson said, cutting me off.

“What?”

Grayson closed the distance between us, still with that burning, intense stare locked on me.

“I don’t have anyone else I can talk to, Story. Only you. Only you understand what I’m going through.” Grayson fell to his knees, wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing his head to my stomach. “Right now you’re Story, and I’m Gray.”

Fourteen

STORY



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