No one save close family and my uncle had ever been inside. It was the stuff of legends. Tumblr and Pinterest overflowed with the imagination of his fans, how they assumed a boy like Grayson lived.
And those pictures…all wrong.
Black and wood, iron and gold. I was reminded of Shelley and Poe, Byron and Brontë, all my favorites. My eyes wandered from the empty walls and emptier room, just like the hallway had been, nothing save bare necessities.
Everyone imagined Grayson as a prince living in a castle with warmth and laughter, friends and family. In reality, this place is dark, haunted, hollow, the only light from the chandelier.
“Get on your knees, Snitch.”
I jumped when Grayson spoke. His command didn’t hold any heat or lasciviousness; his words were burdened, bored, annoyed, as if scolding a toddler, like I was a chore. Don’t forget to remind the servant of her place.
I fell to my knees a second later.
A boy I once knew, Grim, told me if I was ever kidnapped to keep my eyes shut, because there was only one reason they’d let you see them, and it wasn’t good.
This was Gray Crowne’s bedroom. It’s not a fairy tale, Gray isn’t a prince, and I can’t think of any good reason someone like me is being allowed to see what many prettier, richer, more powerful women have never seen before.
“What are you going to do to me?” I whispered.
“Tell me who sent you and I might let you live.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Gray still in the doorway. As a servant, you got good at watching the Crownes without actually looking at them. One leg was propped behind the other, one hand up. Maybe looking at his nails? I wasn’t sure.
I could never be sure.
Watching a Crowne was like looking at an old, blurry Polaroid…you never saw the whole picture. Were never allowed to.
“No one sent me,” I said quickly.
He laughed caustically. “The Carmichaels? The Blacks? Maybe some rag looking for a good story?”
“It was no one, I swear! It was just me. It was an accident.”
I had a half second before I realized I was looking at him, when I saw he was smiling. He should’ve been angr
y at me, maybe even sad, but he just had that smile. The infamous Grayson Crowne smile, with the crooked petal lips that said nothing in the world could touch him, not even losing his chance at love.
Then it clicked why I could see those lips.
I quickly looked at the floor.
“No one…” He trailed off, a humorless bite to his words. “So interesting you found me at that exact moment, then. I guess it’s fate.” He practically drenched the last word in acid and chucked it at my face.
I knew he didn’t believe me, and I had no idea how to convince him, or what that meant for me.
He bent down, knees nearly touching my nose. I wasn’t sure if it was the sound of waves I heard or the blood rising in my ears.
“What are you going to do to me?” I whispered.
He grasped my chin and slowly lifted my head, until our gazes collided like a car crash.
“I’ll give you what you want then,” he said, lip hooked. “A night with Grayson Crowne.”
Three
STORY
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