Chapter Four

/-Emily-/

Night had rolled by, and we were both in his penthouse. Thankfully, there were no paparazzi when I arrived.

“Read through the contract and sign here.” He pointed to where I needed to sign on the paper.

I gave him a tight-lipped smile before taking the paperwork and reading through it.

My jaw dropped when I saw the amount of money I would be getting paid for just pretending to be his wife.

Five hundred thousand dollars. I blinked. That meant in two to three months, I would be a millionaire.

“Are you sure you didn't make a mistake with the amount you listed here? It says you're to pay me five hundred thousand dollars every month.” The words even felt heavy in my mouth as I said them.

“I had my lawyer thoroughly check the terms of the contract. I can assure you that there's no mistake.” He was pouring drinks from what looked like an expensive bottle of wine into two wine glasses as he spoke.

I just had to pose as his wife, and I would be a millionaire.

I was still wide-eyed when I looked through the remaining conditions. They seemed fair. So, I took the pen that lay on the coffee table and signed the contract, sealing the deal.

It was only then that I saw a twinkle flash through Grayson's eyes. But his lips held no trace of the smile he had constantly thrown my way the night we met.

He gestured to the glass of wine. “You deserve a drink.”

He took the contract from the table and disappeared into his room, returning still with his wine in hand. “I'll send your own copy via email. Now, let's cheers to one year of building a reputation and one year of attaining the wealth you crave.” The twinkle was burning bright in his eye now as he spoke.

We both raised our glasses, his gaze on me the whole time.

As I brought the glass to my lips, his front door burst open, and stomping inside was Samantha, the woman who had humiliated me at the gala.

The red dress she wore accentuated every curve on her body; her blonde hair was curled and fell like waves on both sides of her face. Her lips were matted with thick red lipstick.

A scowl immediately fell on her lips when her gaze landed on me. “What the hell is she doing here, Grayson?” She eyed me with disdain. “You never bring your whores for a second night, so what's this one doing here?”

My body stiffened at the name she called me. I sent her a glare.

“She even has the nerve to look at me like that. Look down, you gold-digging bitch.” She snapped, her voice raising a few decibels higher.

I flinched at the sound but didn't look down. “If I'm his whore, then what are you to him?” My voice was hard.

She looked surprised that I spoke back to her. “I'm his fiancée.”

My eyes slightly widened. He was engaged? I snapped my gaze to his, questions swirling in my mind. If he had a fiancée, then what the hell was I doing here?

Grayson only sighed; his cold eyes held boredom in them. “Aren't you tired of doing this every time I bring a woman to my house, Samantha?” He took a sip from his glass and fixed his eyes on me. “She's my ex-fiancée, not my ex. We broke up three years ago.”

“Oh. So she's just an obsessive bitch. A woman scorned.” I spoke with a smirk on my face, liking the way Samantha's face reddened with anger.

“You bitch,” she screamed, her voice bouncing off the walls of the penthouse.

“Samantha, you're not welcome here anymore. So leave,” Grayson spoke, a warning in his tone as the corners of his eyes hardened even more.

She let out a gasp, and I stifled a laugh, watching the hurt that flashed in her eyes. I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

“You think you're something special?” she snarled, hate flashing in her eyes.“Well, news flash, you're not. Grayson here would just use you, and when he's tired, he'll let you go like trash.” A wicked smirk curved on her face. “You're just a pawn in a larger game.”

With that, she turned around and left, closing the door with a bang.

“Don't think too much about anything she said. You know why you're here; don't let someone like her discourage you,” he said in a calm voice before taking another sip.

Even though I knew that Samantha was just taunting me, trying to hurt me with her words, I couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that was now evident in my chest.

I had left Grayson's penthouse immediately after the incident and was now in front of my house when I noticed an envelope on the floor in front of the door.

Curiosity clung to my body like a second skin as I picked it up. It was a white envelope. It had no address or anything concerning who it was from.

I opened it and took the paper from inside, letting my eyes scan its contents.

It read,

‘Grayson Knight isn't your savior. He is the reason your family is in this mess.’

My eyes widened, and I staggered backward.

That can't be true.