Dayton's pov
I pulled up to the Henderson house a little after ten. Lilian had spent the whole evening talking about dresses and venues and honeymoon islands I didn't care about. My jaw still hurt from fake smiling. All I wanted was to drop her off, drive home, and pour something strong.
The front door opened before I even killed the engine. Lilian stepped out, waved, and blew me a kiss. I lifted my hand, waited until she was inside, then let out a long breath. Quiet. Finally.
But something felt off the second I walked in to say goodnight to Mrs. Henderson like I always do. The house was too still. No soft footsteps in the kitchen. No clink of dishes being washed. No Grace.
Mrs. Henderson stood in the hallway, arms crossed, lips tight.
"Where's Grace?" I asked before I could stop myself.
She sniffed, looked me up and down like I'd brought dirt in on my shoes. "Gone. Good riddance."
My stomach dropped. "Gone where?"
"Cast her out two days ago. Little thief thought she could stuff my diamond earrings and my gold bracelet into her bag and disappear. Caught her red-handed. These girls from nothing, they always steal the moment you turn your back. Probably planned to sell my jewelry."
She kept talking, voice sharp, painting Grace blacker with every word. Whore. Liar. Ingrate. I heard maybe half of it.
My mind went straight back to that night at the bar. Grace had been shaking, eyes red from crying, but she never once looked cheap. She listened when I talked, laughed at my stupid stories, asked real questions. When we got to the hotel she didn't beg or cling. She just looked at me like I was the only thing that could make the hurt stop.
I knew her. Not long, but enough. She wasn't a thief.
I muttered something polite and left before Mrs. Henderson saw the anger on my face.
The drive home was a blur. Rain started, hard drops hitting the windshield like bullets. My hands gripped the wheel too tight.
Dad was waiting in the study when I walked in. Glass of whiskey in his hand, shoulders stiff. He looked like he hadn't slept.
"Close the door," he said.
I did.
He didn't waste time. "The wedding date needs moving up. We can't wait another year. The board of directors are restless. The alliance with the Hendersons has to be sealed before winter."
I nodded. Same speech I'd heard a hundred times. Business first. Heir first. Feelings last.
"Yes, sir."
He studied me, eyes narrow. "You seem distracted lately."
I opened my mouth to lie, but he kept going.
I turned to leave but I saw a deep frown of worry etched on his face. He looked like he was troubled by something and whatever could trouble my father was worth handling
"Dad, what's wrong? You look—"
"Nothing," he cut in, too fast. "Go to bed."
He turned away, stared out the window at the rain. I left him standing there, glass trembling in his hand.
My room felt too big. Too cold. I locked the door, went straight to the nightstand, pulled out the velvet box. Opened it.
The little silver star lay on the black cloth, catching the lamp light. I rubbed my thumb over it like I could bring her back. Trina. Grace. Same tilt of the head. Same fire behind the eyes. Same way they both looked at me like I was worth something.
I sat on the bed and let the memory take me.
That night. The hotel.
She'd tasted like tears and whiskey when I kissed her the first time. I remember pushing her against the wall, lifting her so her legs wrapped around my waist. Her dress rode up. My hands slid under it, found warm skin, found her already wet. She made this small desperate sound that went straight to my cock.
I carried her to the bed, laid her down, peeled the dress off slow because I wanted to see every inch. Her breasts were perfect, nipples hard. I sucked one into my mouth and she arched so hard the headboard knocked the wall. My fingers slipped between her legs, pushed inside, two at once. She was tight, hot, clenching around me like she never wanted me to leave.
"Please," she whispered, voice shaking.
I rolled on protection, lined up, and drove into her in one thrust. She cried out, nails digging into my back. I didn't go slow after that. Couldn't. I fucked her hard, hips snapping, bed creaking loud enough for the whole floor to hear. She met every thrust, legs locked around me, begging for more, harder, deeper.
When she came the first time her whole body shook, pussy squeezing me so tight I saw stars. I flipped her over, took her from behind, hand fisted in her hair. She pushed back against me, moaning like a prayer. I reached around, rubbed her clit fast, and she came again, screaming into the pillow.
I followed right after, buried deep, groaning like a dying man. Stayed inside her long after, kissing her shoulder, her neck, her damp hair.
Best night of my life.
Worst morning.
I shut the box and shoved it back in the drawer.
Grace was gone. Alone. Probably hating me. And I'd never see her again.
I told myself it was for the best. She wasn't pack. She wasn't part of the world I was born into. Even if the pull between us felt like fate, even if every time I closed my eyes I still smelled her skin, it didn't matter.
My future was decided the day I was born.
Marry Lilian. Lead the pack. Keep the alliance.
I turned off the light and lay in the dark, hands behind my head, staring at nothing.
Sleep didn't come for a long time.
Somewhere out there, Grace was carrying my baby and I'd never even know its name.
I told myself that was mercy.
I almost believed it.