)

Grayson woke up to the sound of water dripping somewhere nearby. He was lying on a cold, hard floor, and his head throbbed painfully from the earlier blow. As he tried to gather his bearings, he realized he was in a small, dimly lit room. The walls were rough and bare, giving the impression of an underground space.

Struggling to sit up, Grayson noticed that his hands were no longer tied. He gingerly touched the back of his head and winced at the tenderness. It seemed that someone had tended to his wound, though he couldn't remember who or how he got here.

A soft voice, almost raw, spoke behind him. "Good morning Sleeping Beauty."

Grayson turned to find Alison sitting behind him with a first aid kit.

"I'm sorry about before," Alison said, her voice filled with remorse. "But I did warn you to go get ice cream with me."

Grayson's mind was still foggy, but he pieced together some memories from the chaotic events earlier. "Did you really threaten to shoot yourself to save me?" he asked incredulously.

Alison's lips curled up slightly on one side, a silent acknowledgment of her intent.

"You shouldn't have put yourself in harm's way like that," he said gently. "I can take care of myself."

"I know you can," Alison replied, her voice fragile. "But I couldn't stand by and watch him hurt you because of me."

Grayson was overwhelmed with guilt, rendering him speechless. He had watched Alison attempt to hang herself, and now, she was ready to risk everything for him. But were those her true intentions? Alison had her own reasons for wanting to hang herself, so if she chose to shoot herself now, would it truly be for her own benefit—to find an escape from her guilt? Or was it simply because she cared for him?

His feelings for her was a jumbled mess, leaving him lost and unsure. The warmth of her presence was comforting, but it also triggered a familiar ache in his chest. It was a bittersweet reminder of the love he had lost before, and the fear of getting hurt again gnawed at his soul. He wanted to hold on to the bond they shared, but the past haunted him, making him question whether he was strong enough to love and lose once more.

"You should leave," Alison said, rising to her feet and heading toward the door. "You need to leave," she corrected herself.

Grayson stood up, but he didn't follow her command. Nobody told Grayson Hawthorne what to do, especially Alison. He straighten his black suite, brushed the dust off the sides, and adjusted his cuffs. His face showed no emotion as he stood his ground.

"This is my mess, Grayson," her voice softened, but as she faced him again, her eyes flashed with frustration and anger. She took a step closer to him, trying to get him to budge. "It's up to me to clean it up."

"You can't protect me." Grayson took a step closer to Alison, and stopped inches from her, intensity radiating off him. "Regardless of what Mason plans to do—kill me, harm me, or any other way—he will come for me."

Mason despised Grayson not just because he had outsmarted his traps and schemes, but because Alison wanted Grayson.

Alison's anger turned to sadness, and she looked away for a moment, struggling with her own emotions. "Dammit Gray," she chuckled sadly, using his nickname the way Jameson would when admitting something. "I would make you hate me to protect you, but how can I? You're practically telling me you want to be with me."

In a way, she wasn't wrong. Grayson's statement of "You can't protect me," carried the implication that he needed to be with her for his own safety.Ultimately, the decision was his, and he willingly chose to be with Alison because he wanted to be with her.

But deep down, he didn't care about the danger; after all, Hawthornes thrived on danger.

"After you," Grayson softened his gaze, yet stood his ground.

Alison offered a smile, though it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. She was clearly breaking, trying to keep herself together. But before she turned the doorknob, she asked, "Do you know how to drive?"