Page 102 of Twisted Control

I’ve already started looking at places for us. Somewhere quiet. Somewhere forgettable. A town where nobody asks questions and nobody notices strangers. Grace won’t like it at first, but she’ll adjust eventually. She has to.

I can’t give her the chance to say no.

It’s unfair. I know it is. But this is the only way I can keep her safe.

And once we leave, this part of my life is done. No more jobs. No more Ray. No more blood money.

Grace can never know what I am.

I sit down on the edge of the bed and finally call her back.

The second I hear her voice, the pressure in my chest eases just enough for me to breathe again.

30

GRACE

It’s Friday. Almost one week since the gala, and I’m slowly losing my mind.

Drew still hasn’t told me the plan. He just keeps saying it’s “handled,” that I should trust him, that everything is going to be fine. Which is lovely and reassuring, except I’m currently trapped at the dining table at home, pushing a piece of perfectly seared salmon around my plate while Dad and Charles discuss Precision DNA in their low, serious voices.

Finn’s absence is the only silver lining. I don’t think I could handle his smug little glances right now.

“Grace, you’ve hardly touched your food,” Dad says, disapproval dripping from every syllable.

I glance down at the sad, untouched asparagus and salmon a private chef whipped up specially for this lunch. “I’m not very hungry.”

He gives me one of those pointed another thing you’re doing wrong looks before turning back to Charles. I force down a few mechanical bites.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending like this. It’s been days since I’ve seen Drew. The distance is slowly unraveling me. Every moment feels like torture.

As Charles drones on about projections, I stare between the two of them, wondering how anyone could willingly devote their entire life to spreadsheets and profit margins. They eventually move on to some professional golf tournament, which somehow feels like an upgrade.

I tune them out and let my mind drift to my new life with Drew. It’s strangely hard to picture. I told him I want a house. Not an apartment. But when I started mentioning staff (gardeners, cleaners, the usual), he looked genuinely confused. He said we could do all of that ourselves. Which, frankly, is a little alarming. But whatever. I can clean. I think. And I could learn to cook. And garden. Probably. How hard can it be?

“Grace.”

Dad’s voice cuts through my daydream.

“Yes?” I blink, snapping back to reality.

“Charles has invited you to stay at his villa tonight. Up in Milton Valley.”

My stomach drops straight through the floor. Milton Valley. The mountains. That would mean a helicopter ride before dark, followed by hours alone with Charles. Hours in which he might…expect things. Not that he’s shown even the slightest interest in that so far, but still. The possibility is enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

How on earth do I get out of this?

“Ah…” My mind scrambles desperately for an exit strategy. Both men are watching me expectantly. “I’m not that kind of woman, Charles.”

The words tumble out before I can stop them. The silence that follows is absolutely deafening.

Charles looks mildly confused. Dad looks horrified.

I toss my napkin onto the table and stand up a little too quickly. “Excuse me.”

The second I’m out of the dining room, I wince. Charles hadn’t actually suggested anything inappropriate…but I needed an exit.

I make it to my bedroom and sink onto the edge of the bed, breathing like I’ve just run a marathon. Dad can’t actually force me to go…can he?