His Trouble Maker

GRAYSON

Fuck.

She was mine. She chose me. She was supposed to be mine.

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I slam my fist into the desk. The wood splinters under me, but I don’t stop. I grab the edge and tear at it like I can rip this feeling out of my skin, like I can pull the bond back with my bare hands if I just break something hard enough.

But it doesn’t work. It doesn’t go away.

I don’t know what to do anymore. I don’t know where to put all of this–this heat, this weight, this fucking ache

that won’t burn out of me.

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I went home because I thought there had to be another way. I thought maybe I could fight my father. Maybe I could twist his conditions, force him to call this off, give me something–anything–to fix this.

There had to be a way.

But when I got there–when I walked into his office–he was already moving on. Calm. Cold. Smiling like this was all part of the plan.

He wasn’t waiting for me.

He was arranging my marriage.

With Aria. Like Jessica never happened. Like none of this fucking mattered.

1 freeze in the middle of the room, my hands shaking, and for a second, I don’t even know what to feel first. Rage or grief.

Probably both.

Aria. Not Jessica.Never Jessica.

I shove the lamp off the table. It crashes against the wall, shards spinning across the floor, but the sound’s not enough. I throw the chair next. I break the desk. I tear through the room like I can wreck his plans if I just keep moving, but the bond’s still there, thin and fraying and pulling toward him.

And the sickest thing–the thing I can’t get out of my head–the thought that just keeps coming back no matter how hard I try to crush it–is that I want to kill him.

I’ve never been this twisted. I’ve never been this violent. But when it comes to her–when it’s about Jessica–I would burn the whole fucking world just to have her. All of her.

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Chapter 84

I’ve never wanted anything like this. Not until her. And now I can’t let it go. I can’t pull back. I can’t stand here and let Riot have her. I can’t stand here and feel the bond slipping out of my hands and just let it happen. I can’t. I fucking can’t.

But I can’t go back, either.

Because if I walk back into that room–if I see her in his arms–if I see her let him touch her, let him own her–I

what I’ll

“Grayson..”

hear the door creak. I don’t have to turn to know it’s Aria. I can smell

swing my head toward her anyway. She freezes like she’s

my

on my knuckles, the walls I dented. Her

sent her. Of course he did. She’s part of the

Aria. Sweet Aria. The one who never makes

claws and heat and breathless fights. Jessica

in like she’s still hoping she can pull me out

talking. I keep walking until she’s pressed

to her head. I can

can replace her?” I ask, my

doesn’t answer. She’s trying to keep her breathing

not happening,” I say, my mouth dragging close to her ear, low, flat, certain. “Tell him it

like lavender soap. Jessica always smelled like sweat and heat

cracks. “Does it have

always has to be

I’d want

Fucking slut.

I don’t say that. I just smile, sharp and cruel, because Aria’s

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Chapter 84

she wants to

my palm down my face, blood smearing across

starts to speak, but I don’t let

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dark as I circle behind her, crowding her, pressing my chest against her back. She stiffens, but I don’t stop. I drag my hand around her throat, slow, my palm hot and firm over

Her breath stutters.

getting out of this, huh?” I tighten my grip just a little, enough to

you just want

I squeeze harder.

ear, my nose dragging over the shell of it. “Tell me. Tell me how bad you want it. Tell me what you’ll

touch you like this if they promised

I squeeze tighter.

dips low, dark, sharp. “You want me to ruin you? You

make you

hands grab my wrist, weak, trembling,

Fucking knew it.

to you just so you could wear my name.

my nose dragging along her jaw, my grip tightening on her throat.

1

hard enough to make

bet you’d take it. I bet you’d let me fuck you just to say you did. And you’d still