For the first time in days I was alone with Grayson. The words he’d spoken had played on a loop over and over in my head.

Maybe I’ve started rooting for you to fail.

I waited for him to say something, anything. There was a nondescript black bag in his hand. A bunch of scenarios ran through my head, ones I had no right to think. All of them included Lottie.

Maybe they went on a date. Maybe they spent the past couple of days together.

He touched her.

Kissed her.

“Were you with her?” I asked.

I actually sucked in a breath the minute the words left my mouth. I couldn’t believe I’d said them aloud. I was getting bolder—stupider.

He arched a brow. “With who, Snitch?”

He was giving me an out. The whole point of me being here was to give him back his happily ever after, not burn it further to the ground.

I pushed my canine with my tongue. He was never supposed to look back. He was never supposed to invite me into his bed. He was never supposed to touch me and smile at me, dammit.

He came closer to me, and fear strangled my throat. Fear that I would give in, and he would abandon me again.

“You’re what everyone says you are,” I said. “A callous, cold playboy. You were never supposed to touch me! Not unless I failed.”

“Fucking predictable.” He laughed, but his eyes were dead. “Turning in your fangirl card, Snitch?”

“Am I wrong? You don’t let anyone in your wing, not even maids. Why? Do you think you’re better than everyone? You force my unc—an old man to clean the entire place by himself. I read the magazines. I see all the girls you’ve ruined—”

“You think I keep my wing closed because I think I’m better than everyone?” He cut me off, grabbing my wrist. “I guess maids love to gossip, huh? But not about how they steal my shit or plant cameras in my fucking shower.”

My lips parted, but no words came out. Maids had done that to him?

“The last girl I got even remotely close with? She was planning to tell the world Gray Crowne raped her the minute we had sex. The girl before that? Was hoping to sell our sex tape and get famous like a Kardashian. The girl before her—”

“Stop!”

“You don’t like it, Snitch? Is it messing with your black-and-white view of me?” He pushed me off and I stumbled back. “Whatever I said to you, forget it. I was sleep deprived. Lottie was there for me when my dad died. Lottie has been there and was always there. Until you stole her fucking spot.”

He walked away, but stopped, looked slightly over his shoulder, and tossed the bag in his hands at my feet. Then he disappeared down the hall.