My Dad's Bestfriend

Chapter 261

Sienna

I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling. It had been a day and a half since he left for his "business trip." He'd called—maybe once, maybe twice. I'd seen him in those meetings, a room full of suited men, laughing, shaking hands. I tried to keep my responses minimal, indifferent, as always. But nothing was working like it used to.

If there was anyone I wanted to avoid, it was Grayson. Always had been. Sure, maybe I'd judged him harshly. But for good reason—that's what I'd tell myself. Those charges against him—whatever they were never made it into the news, and yet, I believed knew enough about him. I'd hated the way he could punch someone into near unconsciousness without a flicker of guilt. The way blood on his hands seemed trivial. And the women—God, the women. Countless, disposable. None ever mattered to him.

I could list a hundred reasons I despised him. And yet... he'd started giving me reasons to like him.

And that was the problem. He'd started giving me reasons to actually not despise him.

"What the fuck am I doing?" I buried my face in the pillow, groaning. "This isn't right. Am I just... another one of his toys?"

God! Was I?

I sat up, restless. Overthinking, always overthinking. "Then why the hell is he going out of his way to be... nice? He's never cared about being seen as a nice guy before." Typical Alex was—I will just fuck you, and then we are on our separate ways. Then, why wasn't he like that with me? Was this some sort of a game?

"I should know more about him," I muttered, opening my browser, fingers trembling as I scrolled through articles. But then I froze. One article-fresh, posted just three hours ago-stopped me dead.

I clicked the link.

The first image hit me like a punch to the chest. A beautiful blonde woman, standing across from him, champagne in hand, laughing. And he... smiling back at her.

Oh.

I swiped to the next photo. They were close. He leaned toward her, whispering something, and she laughed.

My throat went dry. The headline stared back at me: So, is this billionaire Alexander Grayson's New Girlfriend?

Again. "What a fucking asshole." Bitter laughter escaped me as I flung my phone

moment, chest tight, before a deep, shaky exhale pushed me off

fury in the background, black for the emptiness, lines in the red, white for the hollow ache blending with the blue, brown for the weight of it all. But...Blue surged, sharp and piercing, until his image actually emerged. Not the man himself, but his eyes. Those cruel, calculating blue eyes that knew exactly how to lie. The image spoke...as if it was actually him on the

stepped back, the painting stared back at me—Grayson's eyes,

***

later, my phone was blowing up—nonstop calls and texts from Grayson. Well, I'd ghosted him. That's exactly what he deserved for lying like a piece of shit. I wasn't going to reply, in this life or

munching on popcorn, scrolling

out you're back with that asshole, I would

an asshole when Grayson himself

least

two days, sent fifty

couldn't help

business trips and his well... extracurricular activities, how the hell did he

manage all this? Multitasking

be his hidden

s

craving a tub of ice cream, when suddenly my popcorn vanished

My eyes shot to Mom, who

Mom?" I groaned, staring at

shrugged, munching on my popcorns like it was her duty. "He's too busy today. So he asked you to take it to

Hell no.

firmly, "there's no way I'm doing

for what?" Mom blocked my path to the fridge. "Empty another tub of ice cream?

I

matter. It's