ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY

GRAYSON'S POV

I stepped into Konrad's penthouse, the tension already thick in the air. The sleek modern decor, with its minimalist design and large windows overlooking the city, seemed at odds with the dark intentions that brought me here. The lights of the city twinkled below, a stark contrast to the shadowy dealings that were about to unfold. Konrad stood by the window, a glass of wine in hand, looking out over the sprawling metropolis as if he owned it all. The man had always been arrogant, but tonight there was something more sinister in his posture.

I approached him cautiously, my footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. As I got closer, I noticed Jocelia limping into the living room, her face twisted in pain. She winced with each step, clearly struggling, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. After everything she’d done, after all the chaos and destruction she had wrought in my life and Sylvia’s, any sympathy I might have had for her was long gone. My concern was solely for my kids