Mr. Grey-Book I

19

Emilia

"Sooo, how was your date?" Nina giggled as she bounced onto the bed next to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I threw her a playful glare, rolling my eyes dramatically.

"It wasn't a date," I protested, trying to keep the smile from my voice. "We just strolled on the beach and talked about random things."

Nina flopped onto her back, grinning up at the ceiling. "Duh, that's the exact definition of a date, Emilia," she teased, poking me in the side. Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, did you two make out or what?"

I groaned, grabbing a pillow and swatting her with it. "You're impossible, you know that?"

She caught the pillow, hugging it to her chest as she laughed. "Fine, don't tell me. I'll definitely find out myself," she said, winking at me before leaning her head back against the headboard.

I mirrored her position, and for a moment, we sat in comfortable silence. The events of the day played through my mind, and I found myself speaking before I could think better of it.

"He told me about Elena," I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper.

The shift in the atmosphere was immediate. Nina's playful demeanor vanished, replaced by a tense stillness that seemed to suck the air from the room.

"What did he say?" she asked after what felt like an eternity, her voice carefully neutral.

I shook my head slightly, suddenly unsure if I should have brought it up. "Nothing really, just... how everyone blamed Damien for her death." I paused, the question that had been nagging at me finally escaping my lips. "I mean... could he have killed his own sister?"

Nina sighed heavily, the sound full of unspoken complications. She sat up abruptly, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "Well, that story is still a mystery to everyone," she said, her tone clipped. "And I would stop talking about it if I were you."

She stood, stretching her arms above her head in a move that seemed designed to shake off the heavy topic. "C'mon, let's go get you something to eat," she said, forcing cheer into her voice.

As I followed her out the door, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a lot she wasn't saying. The whole Grey family seemed to be a labyrinth of secrets, and I was stumbling through it blindfolded.

We descended the grand staircase, our footsteps echoing in the cavernous foyer. Just as we were about to turn towards the kitchen, the front door swung open with a dramatic flourish.

I froze mid-step, watching as a woman dressed in an elegant black dress strode in like she owned the place. Which, I realized with a start, she probably did. Nina's disgusted snort broke through my daze.

"The bitch is back," she muttered under her breath, her earlier cheerfulness evaporating instantly.

"Who's she?" I whispered, unable to take my eyes off the newcomer.

"Kim," Nina spat the name like it left a bad taste in her mouth. Without another word, she stalked off towards the kitchen, leaving me standing there alone and utterly unprepared.

As I watched the woman – Kim – make her entrance, I couldn't help but be struck by her beauty. She exuded an aura of confidence and power that seemed to fill the entire room. Four suited men followed in her wake, their eyes constantly scanning the area as if expecting danger to leap out from behind the antique vases.