Chapter 53
Grace's POV
The Morgan family's private dining room at Elysium Heights Hotel, a family gathering. Warm laughter filled the space as Daisy regaled everyone with stories from her and Alex's father's travels.
"And then the camel spit directly in Leon's face!" Daisy was nearly crying with laughter. "Right in the middle of his very serious discussion about oil futures!"
The entire table erupted in laughter.
I found myself laughing too, genuine and unforced. This was what family dinners were supposed to feel like. Not the tense, silent affairs at the Harrison house, where every word felt like walking through a minefield.
"Grace, darling," Eleanor leaned over, her smile warm. "I'd love to hear more about your work."
"It's nothing that impressive," I said.
"Don't be modest. Alex said your department develops new signature fragrances. That's serious artistry."
The pride in his voice made warmth bloom in my chest. When had Richard ever respected my work like this?
Stop comparing everything to Richard.
But it was hard not to. At Harrison family dinners, I was expected to serve and stay silent. Here, I was being celebrated.
"Tell us about the fragrances you've created," Daisy prompted. "Alex raves about them."
I described the process—the blend of osmanthus and amber, the subtle notes of pu-erh tea that evoked both tradition and luxury. As I spoke, I realized the entire table was listening with genuine interest.
"Brilliant," Ethan declared when I finished. "Absolutely brilliant."
Daisy's brother reached into his jacket and produced a velvet case.
An emerald necklace gleamed against the black velvet, matching earrings and a bracelet nestled beside it.
"We deeply regret not being able to attend your and Alex's wedding since we were abroad," he said, his voice gentle. "This is our small compensation."
"I can't—" I started, overwhelmed.
"You can," Daisy said firmly, pushing the box toward me. "This is also his gift as an uncle."
Eleanor nodded at me too, so I had to accept this precious gift.
"Now," Ethan raised his glass. "To Grace—may she always know she has a home with us."
"To Grace!" The table echoed.
I blinked back tears, raising my own glass. The wine was excellent, smooth and complex.
"Careful," Daisy teased after my third glass. "We don't want you getting too tipsy."
"It's fine," I laughed.
My phone buzzed. Alex's name lit up the screen.
"Excuse me," I said, standing carefully. The wine was definitely hitting now, making everything pleasantly fuzzy. "I should take this."
"Go ahead, dear," Eleanor said with a knowing smile.
I stepped into the hallway, pressing the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Grace." Alex's voice was warm, amused. "Sounds like you're having a good time."
"Your family is wonderful," I said, leaning against the wall. "I wish you were here too."
"Do you?" Something in his tone made my heart skip.
"Of course. It would be perfect if you were here."
"Well," he said slowly. "What if I told you I am here?"
"What?" I straightened up, suddenly less fuzzy. "You're back?"
"Turn around, Grace."
I spun.
Alex stood at the end of the hallway, phone still pressed to his ear, looking devastatingly handsome in a charcoal suit.
"Am I hallucinating?" I asked into the phone, not quite believing my eyes.
He lowered his phone, that rare smile transforming his usually stern face. "Come here and find out."
I didn't remember deciding to move. One moment I was standing by the dining room, the next I was running down the hallway, my heels clicking against marble.
Alex caught me easily, his arms solid and sure around my waist.
"You came," I breathed, looking up at him. This close, I could see the flecks of silver in his blue eyes, smell the subtle cedar of his cologne.
"I couldn't stay away," he admitted. "Not when I knew you were here."
His hand came up to cup my face. His thumb was still tracing my cheekbone, and I found myself leaning into the touch, craving more contact.
"Alex—"
He kissed me.
Not gentle. Not tentative. Deep and claiming and desperate, like he'd been holding back for too long and finally broke.
I kissed him back with the same urgency, my hands fisting in his jacket, pulling him closer. He tasted like mint and something darker, and the solid warmth of his body against mine made the wine-fuzz in my head sharpen into crystalline clarity.
This. This was what kissing was supposed to feel like.
This was fire. This was need. This was real.
---
Richard's POV
The drinking session with them dragged on too long. By the time I escaped, I realized I'd had too much—my vision was starting to blur.
I needed a bathroom. Preferably one where I could splash cold water on my face and try to forget how awful this day had been.
The hotel was huge, all gleaming marble and confusing corridors. I must have taken a wrong turn somewhere because I ended up on a floor that looked more residential than commercial. Private dining rooms with closed doors, muted lighting, plush carpeting that muffled my footsteps.
I was about to turn back when I saw them.
At the far end of the hallway. A man and woman, wrapped around each other, kissing like they were the only two people in the world.
The woman's posture made me stop.
Her hands clutching at the man's jacket. The way she tilted her head, pressing closer, closer, like she could never get enough.
The woman's silhouette was graceful, yet gave me a strangely familiar feeling.
But before I could get a closer look, someone suddenly grabbed me from behind.
"Mr. Harrison, I knew you'd had too much! The bathroom's that way—let me help you..."
It was one of my business partners who'd just come out of the private room. He also needed the bathroom, and seeing me unsteady on my feet, he quickly steered me in another direction.
I frowned, clearing my throat to protest, but when I looked back, the figure at the end of the hallway had vanished.
...Was I seeing things?
Or had Grace been occupying my thoughts so much lately that I was starting to hallucinate?
Come to think of it, how could Grace possibly be kissing another man?
The only person she loved with all her heart was me.