Chapter 38

The charity gala was everything I expected – a glittering spectacle of wealth and privilege. The air hummed with the murmur of polite conversation, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the soft strains of a live orchestra.

James and I entered the ballroom, our arrival unnoticed amidst the sea of elegantly dressed guests. He stayed close by my side, his presence a reassuring weight. We scanned the room, searching for Grayson.

It didn't take long. He was standing near the head of the room, surrounded by a group of older men in expensive suits. He was even more striking in person than I remembered, his dark hair slicked back, his eyes sharp and intense. He was the picture of power and success.

My heart pounded in my chest. This was it.

I took a deep breath and started towards him, James right behind me. As we approached, I noticed Grayson's gaze flick towards us. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he quickly composed himself.

He excused himself from the group and stepped forward to meet us, a charming smile playing on his lips.

"Scarlett," he said, his voice smooth and low. "What a pleasant surprise. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I had to come," I said, my voice trembling slightly despite my efforts to remain calm. "We need to talk, Grayson."

He raised an eyebrow, his smile never faltering. "Of course. Let's find somewhere a little more private."

He gestured towards a set of doors leading to a dimly lit terrace. I hesitated, but James gave me a reassuring nod.

We followed Grayson onto the terrace. The cool night air was a welcome relief from the stuffy ballroom. The sounds of the city faded into the background, leaving us alone with our thoughts and fears.

"So," Grayson said, turning to face me, his eyes glinting in the moonlight. "What did you want to talk about?"

I took another deep breath. "I know you've been watching me, Grayson."

His smile finally vanished. "What are you talking about?" he asked, his voice suddenly cold.

"Don't play coy with me," I said, my voice gaining strength. "I know you've been stalking me."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, he let out a slow, deliberate laugh.

"Stalking you? Scarlett, you flatter yourself. I have far more important things to do than waste my time on you."

"Don't lie to me," I said, taking a step closer to him. "Wilson told me everything."

His eyes narrowed. "Wilson? That little weasel."

"He told me about your plans," I continued, ignoring his comment. "He told me you were planning something big, something that involved me."

"And you believed him?" Grayson asked, his voice dripping with contempt. "He's a liar, Scarlett. He's trying to manipulate you."

"I don't believe you," I said. "I know you're obsessed with me, Grayson. And I want you to stop."

He took a step closer to me, his eyes burning into mine. "Obsessed? Is that what you think this is? You have no idea, Scarlett. You have no idea how much I..."

He trailed off, his jaw clenching. He took a deep breath and forced a smile back onto his face.

"You're mistaken, Scarlett," he said, his voice regaining its smooth composure. "I admire you, yes. I think you're talented and beautiful. But obsessed? No. That's absurd."

"Then stop," I pleaded. "Stop sending the roses, stop watching me, stop making me feel like I'm living in a horror movie."

He shrugged. "If that's what you want."

He turned to leave, but I grabbed his arm.

"One more thing," I said. "Leave my friends and family alone. If you try to hurt them, I swear I'll..."

"You'll what?" he interrupted, his eyes flashing with anger. "You'll call the police? You think they'll believe you? You have no proof, Scarlett. It's your word against mine."

He was right. I had no proof. But I wouldn't let him know that.

"I have ways," I said, my voice low and menacing. "Don't underestimate me, Grayson."

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mixture of anger and amusement. Then, he slowly pried my hand off his arm.

"Consider yourself warned, Scarlett," he said. "Don't push me."

He turned and walked away, disappearing back into the ballroom.

I stood on the terrace, my heart pounding, my body trembling. I had confronted him. I had told him to stop. But I couldn't shake the feeling that this was just the beginning. That Grayson's obsession was far deeper, far more dangerous than I could have ever imagined.

I turned to James, who was watching me with a worried expression.

"Let's go," I said, my voice barely a whisper. "I want to go home."

As we walked away from the gala, I knew that my life would never be the same. I had entered a game with Grayson Thorne, and I had a feeling that the stakes were about to get a lot higher.