They were playing keep-away, and I was the one in the middle. I had no reserves left to pretend it didn’t bother me. These were my uncle’s clothes, and I needed them.
I fell to my knees. “Just give them back.”
They all suddenly stopped laughing, stopped throwing my things. I knew before he’d spoken, knew before I felt him behind me. The icy chill of anger lifted the hair off the back of my neck.
“I seriously fucking hate people touching my shit,” Grayson growled.
One by one my stolen clothes landed in a pile at my knees. I still couldn’t look up, utterly humiliated. Couldn’t even take the clothes back. I just sat there, willing it all to end. Until Uncle’s sweater was lifted from the pile and passed to me by a strong, veiny hand.
“This is Woodsy’s, yeah?” Grayson asked quietly.
“Yes,” I mumbled, taking it.
“Why are you always defending her?” Pipa snapped.
“Seriously, what the fuck?” Alaric added.
“It’s like you’re legit into her or something.” Aundi laughed, and then everyone laughed at the ludicrous idea. Someone like Grayson Crowne being into me.
I held the clothes tighter to my body.
“I am,” Grayson said, and the laughter came to a crashing halt. “I am into her. She’s mine. If you hurt her, you hurt me. If you fuck with her, you fuck with me. This is the last goddamn warning I give.”
Awkward laughter trickled out, a few eyes wandering to Lottie, then back to us. Lottie gazed into her drink, a look on her face like she wished it could drown her.
“Geoff, you already got a warning. I don’t want to see your fucking face. Your dad, fired. You, out.”
I don’t know if Grayson snapped his fingers or simply gave a look, but two guards appeared and dragged Geoff out.
“Aundi and Pipa…”
At their names, their eyes went wide.
“Be really fucking grateful Lottie likes you. For whatever reason.”
Silence. Everyone stared at me with uncertainty, disdain, begrudging respect.
He wrapped his arm around my waist, lifting me off the floor, carting me out of the room.
GRAY
* * *
We were barely out of there when Story yanked herself away and shoved me in the chest.
“Uh, you’re welcome.”
“Thank you?” She looked away on a laugh, a breathy, indignant sound. “You want a thank you? What the hell are you doing?”
“Being romantic, doing the right thing.”
“You just confirmed all of their suspicions. Grayson Crowne is fucking his maid. His maid is his mistress.”
“I…shit…” I rubbed the back of my neck. “I didn’t look at it that way.”
“Do you want to know what your mother really said to me before Italy? She told me I was your mistress. She said I was lucky. Now I had leverage. She all but welcomed me into the Crowne family!”
She threw up her hands and turned from me, facing the wall.