Mr. Grey-Book I

36

**Emilia**

Though I'd never admit it aloud, a significant part of me yearns to stay and watch this baby grow up, or at least remain until Damien regains his sight. I long to witness his reaction when he sees his child for the first time—or even when he sees me for the first time. But these are mere fantasies. I can't possibly defy Mrs. Grey at the cost of my own family.

Leaving was the only rational option, though I wish I could be the one to explain it to him.

I forced a dry laugh. "No one's going anywhere," I lied, noticing Damien's sigh of relief. "Come on, let's get you inside. It's getting dark."

We made our way back to the main house in comfortable silence. I gazed up at the sky, inhaling deeply. The night was settling in, a low, dark canopy pierced by the silver shine of the moon. With a small smile, I intertwined our fingers and led him inside.

We had barely crossed the threshold when I heard that voice—the one that always sets me on edge. "Miss Clark..."

I swallowed hard and looked up, meeting Mrs. Grey's piercing gaze. "Mrs. Grey," I whispered, feeling Damien's hand grow cold and tense in mine.

"How dare you take my son out of the safe?" she began, her voice sharp as a blade.

"I'm so sorry," I stammered, but she cut me off.

"Miss Clark—" she started, ready to unleash her anger, but Damien interjected.

"Go to your room, Emilia," he said, his voice strained, jaw clenched. Mrs. Grey's expression remained unchanged as she glared at her son. The tension in the room was palpable, threatening to explode at any moment.

"It was all my idea," I blurted out, panic rising in my chest. "I suggested going to the lake."

Damien groaned loudly. "I swear to God, Emilia, if you apologize one more time—" He cut himself off, curling his hands into fists. "GO TO YOUR ROOM," he steered, his tone brooking no argument.

I fled up the stairs, my heart pounding. Once in my room, I shut the door and sank against it, finally releasing the breath I didn't realize I'd been holding.

For the next few minutes, I paced back and forth like a caged animal, my fists clenched so tightly that my nails dug into my palms. My heart throbbed against my ribcage, drowning out all other sounds. Realizing that panic wouldn't solve anything, I forced myself to sit on the bed, rubbing my hands together nervously.

The sound of the doorknob turning made me jump to my feet. I swallowed hard as the door opened, revealing Mrs. Grey.

She entered silently, closing the door behind her. Her composure was calm but terrifying as she turned to face me. "How's the baby?" she asked, her gaze dropping to my slightly swollen stomach.

"Fine," I whispered. "The baby's fine."

A small, cold smile played on her lips. "It seems my son has grown quite fond of you." She sat down, crossing her legs elegantly. "Do I need to remind you of your contract, Miss Clark? You seem to have forgotten your side of the deal."

"Mrs. Grey—" I began, but she cut me off.

"I'm not paying you to form some meaningless attachment to my son," she snapped. "I'm paying you to carry my grandchild. That's it. You're going to end this nonsense you have with him, or you and your family will live to regret it."

"Leave my family out of this," I said, my voice low and dangerous, surprising even myself with its intensity.

"Then stick to the contract and leave," she replied through gritted teeth.

A surge of hatred welled up inside me as I stared back at her. I've never loathed anyone as much as I do this woman.

"Are we clear, Ms. Clark?" she asked, her voice pitching with warning.

"Yes," I whispered, the word tasting bitter on my tongue.

As Mrs. Grey left the room, I sank onto the bed, my mind racing. I knew I had to leave, for my own sake. I placed a hand on my belly, silently promising the baby that somehow, someday, I would find a way to make things right.

_____

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