Chapter 104
Richard's POV
The concrete floor of the parking garage was cold and unforgiving against my knees. I could feel the rough surface biting through my expensive suit pants, but I didn't care. Nothing mattered except the woman standing before me, looking down at me with those ice-blue eyes that had once gazed at me with such warmth.
"Grace, I was wrong. I'm so sorry!" The words tore from my throat, raw and desperate. "I know I hurt you, I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but please—"
From the moment I realized what I'd thrown away, I'd lost all pride.
"I'll do anything," I continued, my voice barely above a whisper.
Grace stood perfectly still, her designer heels planted firmly on the ground.
"Are you finished?" Her voice was steady, almost bored.
The casual dismissal hit me harder than a physical blow. This wasn't the Grace I knew—the woman who used to fuss over my schedule, who'd stay up late perfecting presentations for my meetings, who'd look at me like I was her whole world.
"Grace, you have to understand—everything I did was for us, for our future—"
"Our future?" She let out a laugh that made my blood run cold. "Richard, let me ask you something. After everything you've put me through, what makes you think I'd want a future with you?"
I scrambled to my feet, my knees protesting. "Because you loved me! I know you did. What we had was real, Grace. You can't just throw that away because of some misunderstanding—"
"Misunderstanding?" Her eyebrows rose in mock surprise. "Is that what we're calling fraud now?"
The word hung between us like a blade. I felt my face flush hot, then cold.
"I can explain everything," I said quickly. "Laura, Emma—it's complicated, but it doesn't change how I feel about you. You're the only one I've ever truly—"
"Stop." Grace held up one perfectly manicured hand. "Just... stop."
But I couldn't stop. The desperation was eating me alive.
"You think you can find someone better?" The words spilled out before I could stop them, ugly and raw. "You're a woman with no family background, no connections of your own. Do you really think any man of quality would want you for anything more than a temporary distraction?"
The moment the words left my mouth, I knew I'd made a catastrophic mistake. Grace's expression didn't change, but something shifted in her eyes—something dangerous and final.
"It's all over," she said quietly, her voice cutting through me like ice.
I tried to stand, to reach for her, but her heel connected with my chest, sending me stumbling back to my knees. The force wasn't enough to seriously hurt me, but the message was crystal clear.
She pulled out her phone, the screen already recording. "But since you're so concerned about what I deserve, let's talk about what you owe me. The remaining 10% of Harrison Group shares—the unfinished transaction from last time."
"Grace, you can't be serious—"
"Oh, I'm deadly serious." Her smile was sharp enough to cut glass. "Unless you'd prefer I send this recording to everyone in your contact list? Or the news media."
The threat hit home. I could already imagine the headlines, the whispers in boardrooms, the investors pulling out faster than rats from a sinking ship.
"Fine," I said through gritted teeth. "The shares. You'll have them."
I could only temporarily appease her with lies.
"Wonderful." Grace stood, smoothing down her coat. "Oh, and Richard? Next time you're thinking about harassing me, you might want to consider that my husband isn't someone you want to cross."
Husband? The word hit me like a physical blow. "You're lying. You can't have gotten married that quickly—"
"Can't I?" Grace's smile was serene, almost pitying. "You'd be surprised what's possible when you're not living a lie."
She turned toward the elevator, her heels clicking against the concrete with finality. I scrambled after her, panic overriding what little dignity I had left.
"Grace, wait! You can't just—"
Two men in perfectly tailored suits stepped out from behind a concrete pillar, blocking my path. They were both built like linebackers, their faces expressionless as stone.
"Mr. Harrison," the taller one said politely. "I need you to step back."
"Get out of my way," I snarled, trying to push past them. "Grace!"
The shorter bodyguard's fist connected with my nose before I even saw it coming. Pain exploded across my face, and I felt the warm trickle of blood running down my chin. My designer tie was suddenly around my throat, not quite tight enough to choke me but making the message clear.
"That's enough," a cold, authoritative voice cut through the air.
I recognized that voice—the same one I'd heard on Grace's phone calls, the one that had haunted my dreams for days. It was coming from a phone in the bodyguards' hands, their eyes still fixed on me.
"Next time you harass Grace again," the voice came through the phone once more, "make sure you've got someone lined up to collect your body."
A boot connected with my stomach, and I doubled over, bile and blood mixing in my mouth as I retched onto the concrete. The two bodyguards turned and left.
I stumbled toward my car, my hands shaking as I tried to find my keys. My phone was buzzing incessantly—Laura's name flashing on the screen over and over again.
"Come get me," I managed when I finally answered, my voice barely recognizable through my swollen nose and split lip.
"Richard? What happened? Where are you?"
"Just... just come get me."
As I sat in my car waiting for Laura, I replayed Grace's words over and over.
But even as my body ached and my pride lay in ruins around me, one thought kept circling through my mind: the angrier Grace got, the more she protested, the more it proved she still cared. Women didn't get that emotional over men they didn't love.
She was just trying to hurt me the way I'd hurt her. This marriage, this mysterious husband—it was all an elaborate revenge fantasy. It had to be.