𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐎𝐒

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏𝟔

GRAYSON
MEADOWS

I left my bedroom when she drifted to sleep. I knew she'd wake up and regret staying over with me. That was just her way—Stella was stubborn and unpredictable like that. I stepped out onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette and letting the sharp taste fill my lungs. The Manhattan skyline stretched before me, a glittering maze of lights and chaos. It was peaceful, in a way, standing out here and pretending everything wasn't as fucked as it really was.

She was the only girl who could play my game, the one temptation I couldn't shake. Stella was ice and chaos—a gift from God and a curse all in one. I exhaled a stream of smoke, watching it disappear into the night. I didn't want to ruin whatever this thing was between us, but what did I really have to lose? Any girl I wanted was mine with a snap of my fingers, so why was she the one that stuck?

The elevator dinged behind me, snapping me out of my thoughts. I turned, expecting Jaxon or maybe Avery. My face dropped when Damon stepped out, Marcella tucked close against his side. His lips brushed against hers as they stumbled into the penthouse like they owned the place.

What. The. Fuck.

I stood frozen, the cigarette burning between my fingers as I processed the scene. Damon Lars and Marcella Crist? This had to be some kind of twisted joke. Jaxon would lose his damn mind if he found out about this, and knowing Damon, he didn't give a single shit about the consequences.

Marcella gasped when she saw me on the balcony, her eyes widening. Damon didn't flinch. He turned on the lights, his expression a careful mask of indifference, though I knew him well enough to see the tension in his jaw.

"I didn't know you were here," he said, his voice flat and cold.

"For how long?" I asked, stepping inside and tossing the cigarette into the ashtray.

"A few days," Marcella admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

A few days. Holy fuck. I ran a hand through my hair, the urge to laugh and punch Damon in the face battling for dominance. "What the hell is wrong with you? How could you not tell us?"

Damon chuckled darkly. "That's hypocritical coming from you. Jaxon's with Liliana, and Marcella isn't a kid. She can make her own decisions."

"You think that's the point?" I snapped, stepping closer. "You lied. To all of us. When Jaxon finds out about this, it's going to blow everything up. Do you even care?"

"I'm done caring about shit that doesn't matter," Damon snarled, rolling his fists. He was itching for a fight, and I wasn't about to back down.

"It wasn't just his fault," Marcella cut in, her voice trembling.

"No, Marcella," I said sharply, turning my glare on her. "You don't get to talk your way out of this. When Jaxon finds out, he's not going to come after you. He's going to Damon. So congratulations, you've just ruined a friendship."

Tears welled in her eyes, but I didn't care. Not tonight. Maybe I would've felt something for her if I didn't know what she was doing with Damon behind our backs. "The Damon I know wouldn't have let this happen. But I guess you're not that guy anymore."

Damon's glare turned deadly. If he wasn't holding himself back for Marcella's sake, he'd probably swing at me.

"Tell Jaxon tomorrow," I demanded.

Marcella shook her head violently, stepping forward. "Please, Grayson, don't—"

Her begging meant nothing to me. "Make sure Stella is safe," I said coldly, ignoring Marcella's pleas. "She's in my bedroom."