Chapter 113

Chapter 113:

A black Maybach glided to the curb and cut off her path. The window slid down with a silent hum.

Grayson.

He looked impeccable, as always. Not a hair out of place. A file folder rested in his lap.

“Get in,” he said.

“I’d rather walk to Brooklyn,” Isolde said, turning away.

“It’s about the brooch,” Grayson said.

Isolde stopped. Her feet felt nailed to the pavement.

Her grandmother’s emerald brooch. The only thing she had left of the woman who had taught her to draw. It had been in the safe at the Penthouse. She had searched for it during her raid, but the velvet box was empty. He must have moved it.

“I know you were looking for it,” Grayson said, his voice flat. He held up his phone, displaying a formal consignment document from Sotheby’s. “It’s scheduled for auction next month. Daron McKnight has already placed a preliminary bid. He’s very eager to own a piece of your family’s history.”

𝖯𝗼𝗉u𝗹𝘢𝗿 𝘀𝘁о𝗋𝗶𝘦𝘴 o𝗻 𝗀a𝘭𝗻𝗈𝘃e𝘭ѕ.с𝘰𝘮

The threat was surgical — far crueler than simple destruction. Horror flooded her veins.

“You wouldn’t.”

“I’m tired of the games, Isolde. Get in the car.”

Isolde opened the rear door and slid onto the leather seat. It smelled of him. Sandalwood and money.

“Where is it?” she demanded.

“In a vault. For now.” Grayson tapped the driver’s partition and the car began to move. “But my broker is on speed dial.”

“What do you want?”

“Saturday,” Grayson said. “My father’s birthday. You’re coming.”

“I was already planning to come.”

“No.” Grayson shook his head. “You were planning to crash it. I want you to come as my wife. I want you to stand by my side. I want you to smile. I want you to wear the dress I bought you. And I want you to tell everyone that the divorce is on hold.”

“You want me to lie.”

“I want to protect the stock price,” Grayson corrected. “The rumors are hurting us. My father is frail. If he sees us united, he’ll sign over the final trust fund tranche to Kaiden.”

“So it’s about money,” Isolde said. “Always.”

“It’s about legacy.” Grayson looked at her brace. His eyes lingered there for a moment, unreadable. “If you do this — if you play the part perfectly — I will give you the brooch. And I will unfreeze your mother’s accounts.”

It was extortion. Pure and simple.

“And Belle?” Isolde asked.

“Belle will be there. As a friend of the family.”

“No,” Isolde said. “If I see her — if she speaks to me — the deal is off. I will scream the truth from the rooftops.”

Grayson hesitated. “She won’t bother you. I promise.”

“Your promises are worth less than the air you breathe,” Isolde said. “But I want that brooch.”

“Then we have a deal?”

Isolde looked out the window at the blurred city lights streaking past in the rain.

“Deal,” she said. “But know this, Grayson — you’re forcing a wolf into a cage. Don’t be surprised when it bites.”

The car stopped at her building.

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