Part 2His Erased Obsession

When I woke again, the sky outside was a deep, bruised purple. It was already evening.

The house was quiet. Grayson must have left.

My stomach growled.

I pushed open my door and, wearing a white cotton nightgown, padded barefoot down the stairs to find something to eat. The cool marble floor against my feet seemed to clear a tiny bit of the fog in my head.

I was standing at the kitchen island, waiting for a slice of bread to toast, when the study door swung open.

Grayson Vance emerged, dressed in a perfectly tailored suit. The warm, yellow light of the hallway carved his silhouette into something even more imposing, sharpening the breathtaking lines of his face. He looked like a god of judgment, descended to earth.

But he was so cold. An arctic chill radiated from him, from his eyes, from the way he held himself. Even the gunmetal gray of his cufflinks seemed to gleam with frost.

His gaze drifted across the long living room and landed on me. His thin lips pressed into a hard, straight line.

The sheer force of his presence was a physical blow.

In a split second, I snapped back to reality.

Clapping my hands over my head, I dropped to the floor and scrambled under the dining room table, a pathetic attempt to hide.

My sister, Olivia, came skipping down the stairs, her steps light and joyful. She ran straight into Grayson’s arms, grabbing his elbow and leaning against him.

“Are you leaving already? You haven’t even seen my new headshots. Stay for dinner, please?”

Olivia usually carried herself with a cool, untouchable grace. But now, her voice was sweet and pleading, the charming lilt of a pampered daughter. She was like a beautiful, exotic bird—bright plumage and a captivating song.

Grayson didn't speak. His cold eyes remained fixed on me, trembling beneath the table.

Olivia’s smile faltered. She bit her lip. “If you’re busy, it’s okay. We can look another time. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Grayson didn’t move. The oppressive weight of his attention was so focused on me, it was as if he hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

Olivia opened her mouth to speak again but seemed to think better of it.

After a long, tense silence, he finally spoke, his voice a low rumble.

“Fine. I’ll stay for dinner.”

I saw identical expressions of stunned disbelief flash across the faces of my father and sister.

A faint, humorless smile touched Grayson’s lips. “What are you afraid of? Didn’t she forget everything?”

He crossed the room in a few long strides and crouched down beside the table. The fabric of his trousers pulled taut against the powerful muscles in his legs.

“Nina,” he said, his voice dangerously soft. “Do you remember me?”

I timidly lifted my eyes to his, then immediately looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

I gave a slow, hesitant nod.

But at that moment, a sharp, needle-like pain shot through my fingertips and toes. It was an automatic, agonizing response.

A cry escaped my lips.

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head frantically.

“I don’t know you! Don’t hit me! I don’t know you!”