Chapter four
Grey spent the entire seven-hour plane ride on his phone, while I used mine to read different versions of the same fairytales my mother used to share with me at night. They were just a little darker now, a lot dirtier, and the heroes always seemed to walk the line between knight and villain. Maybe that was what Ma was trying to tell me all along. Maybe it was possible to be both.
I rooted for the beast, for Heathcliff, and for the man who kept his wife locked in an attic. I wanted Gatsby to steal Daisy’s heart, even though she was promised to someone else.
Before Alexander, I’d only ever dated one man, so everything I knew about romance came from these stories and my imagination. I was engaged to a prince, but there had been no romantic courtship. There wasn’t even dirty flirting. We’d had lunch—never dinner—together a few times, and attended a horse show once, strictly for the press’s benefit. The conversation was always polite, but never intimate. Every line sounded as rehearsed as the speeches he gave to the public. Even when he held my hand or kissed my cheek, it didn’t feel the way it was supposed to feel.
Alexander was handsome, charming, and accomplished in all the ways that mattered, but my stomach didn’t drop when he walked into the room. My heart didn’t race at the mention of his name. I didn’t lay in bed at night wondering if his touch would feel better than my own. Our wedding date was just months away, and I felt like he was a stranger.
I thought about Sadie and wondered if she felt the same about my father. I’d never seen them show affection, even in the quiet moments when they thought no one was looking. Not that Da was an affectionate person. He wasn’t. At the time of their wedding, I was too heartbroken to care aboutwhyDa had decided to marry someone else. The grief over my mother’s death was still too raw. Arranged marriages happened all the time in our world. Love seemed more strategic than coincidental. Now I often looked at Sadie and wondered if their marriage was just another business transaction. I wondered if she was like me.
Two books and one nap later, I was taking in the sights of New York City from the backseat of a sleek SUV. The windows were as black as the shiny exterior, allowing no one to see inside, which did absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. The smooth, buttery seats cooled my skin where they touched. Grey sat next to me, silent and cold as ever.
Buildings made of glass and steel sprouted from the concrete surface all the way to the sky. I’d heard the city was called a concrete jungle. Now I knew why. Hundreds of people scurried along the sidewalks. Most of them were too preoccupied with conversations to notice the heavy traffic driving by. This place was the polar opposite of the green hillsides of Ayelswick. There was a current that seemed to resonate in the air and through my bones. My whole body vibrated with it.
Excitement, fear, and restlessness coursed through every part of me. I’d been in New York twenty minutes, and I already couldn’t wait to explore.
We pulled up to the curb outside of one of the taller buildings and stopped. The driver stepped out and opened Grey’s door.
Grey extended his hand to help me out of the vehicle. Then he looked at the driver, who was busy unloading my three bags from the back. “I’ll take those. You wait here.”
The driver obeyed. I didn’t blame him. People didn’t typically argue with Grey. If he said, “Fuck you,” you answered with, “Pick a hole.”
My father wasn’t exactly anairport reunionkind of guy, so it didn’t surprise me that he wasn’t there, but I halfway expected to see him now. Instead, a surly man met us at the revolving glass door, eyeing both of us and then the suitcases. Grey introduced himself then pulled the man to the side, keeping his words low and quiet so that I wouldn’t hear. That wasn’t anything new. I’d been around hushed conversations all my life. Secrets were the heartbeat of Ayelswick.
A beat later, Surly Man pulled his phone from his pocket and made a call.
Seemingly satisfied with whatever was going on, he nodded his head in my direction. “This way,” he said as he led us across an open lobby with marbled floors and crystal chandeliers.
The walls were covered in polished jet-black stone softened with specks and swirls of gold. I’d been around grandeur all my life, but none of it compared to the sense of luxury I felt being in a place like this. I pulled my phone out and snapped a few pictures for memories. There was no way to bottle the feeling bubbling inside me, but at least I’d have this. We didn’t have hotels like this in Ayelswick. Our tourists stayed in guesthouses, surrounded by gardens and decorated with family heirlooms.
I followed Grey into an elevator that traveled up twenty-one floors, then opened into a massive space. The kitchen, living room, and dining room all converged into one big area with an open, modern staircase on one side. I set my phone down on a large kitchen island that divided the rooms as I drank it all in. At the top of the stairs, there was an open loft overlooking the living room. I walked over to a set of floor-to-ceiling windows that took up one entire wall, giving a picturesque view of the city skyline. The décor was sleek and masculine—lots of dark leather, stark-white accent pieces and chrome.
“This is where you’ll be for the duration of your stay,” Grey said.
“Is my father meeting us here?”
He tugged on the sleeves of his tailored suit, not bothering to look at me. “I said he was in New York. I never said he was meeting us here.”
All of the excitement from minutes ago drained into a puddle of dread on the marbled-tile floor. “But I will see him, right?”
“Eventually, yes.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my mouth feeling like it was filled with cotton. “So, I’m alone?” I’d never slept anywhere outside of the palace, but I’d watched enough television to know what a hotel looked like on the inside, and this was not it. This was someone’s home—a very wealthy and very male someone. And I was going to be alone with him. Something about that made me feel like a fly trapped in a spider’s web.
“Your host will be here soon. He’ll answer all your questions.” More ominous words. Or maybe my nerves just made them seem that way.
He.I knew it.
“I’d rather see my father.”
“I’m afraid that’s not possible.”
“Why? You said he was here. Why isn’t it possible?” My voice trembled, growing louder with every word. My heart rate was frantic now.
“The less you know, the better off you’ll be.”
I didn’t know Grey well, but I knew enough to understand that he was dangerous. Everything about this felt dangerous.