Chapter 68 Chapter Sixty-eight

Chapter 68 Chapter Sixty-eight
Bella

I was lying in bed when it all hit me at once, like a switch had been flipped in the dead of night.

The bet. It was still there, unresolved, festering in the back of my mind like an open wound. 

No matter how many times Gray kissed me, touched me, or fucked me like I was the only thing keeping him sane… that bet still existed. 

A shadow I couldn’t ignore anymore..I rolled over and glanced at the alarm clock.

3:30 AM.

My ears twitched at the faint but rhythmic sound coming from somewhere in the house. I didn’t need long to recognize it. I’d heard it before.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Gray was in the gym, destroying something with his fists. The poor punching bags.

The sound echoed through the quiet mansion in that unsettling way it did at night, like violence itself was breathing.

A dangerous little voice whispered in my head: You can use this time to find out about the bet.

I snorted softly to myself in the darkness. Find out about the bet? Where? His room? What exactly did I think I’d discover? The printed out copy of a group chat screenshot?

Nah. This wasn't those young adult movies like ‘After’and ‘After We Collided’, where hot college boys placed bets on the nerdy female student.

This was real life. My life. I lay there for another minute, staring at the ceiling, telling myself it was a stupid idea.

But the urge wouldn’t leave me alone. Before I could talk myself out of it, I slipped out of bed. I didn’t bother putting on anything else over my braless tube top and tiny sleep shorts. 

The less clothing, the faster I could move, and the easier it would be to slip back into my room if I needed to run.

My heart hammered as I quietly opened my door and crept down the hallway toward Gray’s room. Every noise I heard felt deafening. 

The distant sound of his fists hitting the punching bags continued like a war drum in the background.

I pushed open his door, heart in my throat, and stepped inside. It was open, which meant he no longer felt wary about anyone snooping around in his room. Unlike before.

The room smelled like him, dark cedar, a mix of woodsy spice and that expensive cologne that always made my stomach tighten. 

His bed was unmade, like he'd jumped out of bed without thinking twice. Everything else was in its place.

I moved quickly, opening drawers, checking under his pillow, even sliding my hand between the mattress and the bed frame. My hands were shaking. I didn’t even know exactly what I was looking for. A note? Proof that I was never more than a game to him?

Gosh, I was really turning into one of those girls from the Korean dramas Nina binged during the holidays.

Sneaking into his room in the middle of the night in search of something I didn't even understand felt ridiculous. But the need to know about the bet wouldn’t let me sleep. I'd woken up in the middle of the night thinking about it.

I was just pulling open the drawer of his nightstand when I stilled.

Tucked beneath a worn black notebook was a single folded piece of paper. On the front, in faded ink, were the words: ‘Mummy Come Back’.

Something inside me folded.

I reached for it with trembling fingers and carefully unfolded the paper. The handwriting was mature but boyish, the careful script of an early adolescent. 

Stars and faded Christmas lights were drawn around the edges, some smudged from years of being touched.

It was an old Christmas card. It read:

‘Dear Mummy, please come back home. I’ve been really good this year. I didn’t cry when Dad shouted. I've toughened up like you wanted me to. I cleaned my room every day. I even learned how to make your favorite coffee. Please come back. I miss you so much it hurts inside my chest. Love, Gray….

“Oh, Gray…” I whispered, my throat tightening as I ran my fingers gently over the faded words. The paper felt fragile, like it had been read thousands of times over the years. 

My chest ached for the lonely adolescent boy who had drawn these stars hoping his mother would magically appear.

“Yes?” The deep, low voice came from right behind me.

I whirled around in pure panic, the card still clutched in my hand.

Gray stood in the doorway, shirtless, sweat glistening on his sculpted chest and abs. 

His eyes dropped from my face to the card in my hands, then slowly dragged back up to meet mine.

The temperature in the room seemed to drop ten degrees.

For a long, suffocating second, he said nothing. 

The silence was heavier than any shout could ever be. His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking furiously as a vulnerable expression flashed across his face, quickly replaced by that familiar cold, dangerous mask he always wore.

“You went through my things.” His voice was quiet. 

“Gray, I—” My words died in my throat. I had no excuse. None that would matter.

He took one step into the room, then another, closing the distance between us like a predator who had all the time in the world. His eyes never left mine.

“What is it you wanted so badly that you’d sneak into my room at 3:30 in the morning?” He tilted his head, his voice dropping into something almost gentle, which somehow made it scarier. “Or were you looking for something else, Red?”

He stopped right in front of me, towering over me, his bare chest rising and falling with controlled breaths.

“Give it back.” His hand reached out slowly, palm up, waiting. But his eyes… his eyes said something completely different.

They said I had just crossed a line I could never un-cross.

“You’ve done this before,” Gray’s voice was so low that it felt like a distant rumble “Sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong. I tried so fucking hard to contain myself the last time you went through my mother’s pictures. I’m only going to say this once, hand over the note and leave. For the sake of both of us.”

I shook my head, clutching the faded card tighter. 

“You can tell adolescent Gray that everything turned out okay in the end.”

Gray’s eyes hardened into something terrifying. I knew instantly I’d said the wrong thing.

“I see you’ve become a low-budget therapist now.” His voice was ice-cold. “I’m good, ma’am. Hand over the fucking note and get out.”

I refused to flinch. I wanted him to heal. I needed him to let go of the weight he carried.

“She still loves you, Gray,” I whispered, my voice soft but steady. “It doesn’t matter how many people you’ve beaten up or how dark you’ve become. A mother’s love is unconditional.”

The moment the words left my mouth, I felt the shift. The wall inside him didn’t just crack, it shattered.