Part 3His Erased Obsession

The atmosphere at the dinner table was bizarre.

My parents worked desperately to keep a conversation going, but Grayson ate in silence, his posture radiating an aristocratic coldness. He had no intention of participating, which made my parents’ forced enthusiasm painfully awkward.

Olivia just stared at her plate, her face a dark mask of anger.

I didn’t dare reach for any of the serving dishes, just picked at the small portion of rice in my bowl.

When the meal finally ended, I could feel my parents exhale in relief. As Grayson stood to leave, something clicked in my mind. I shot up from my seat.

“Mr. Vance, wait.”

Everyone, including Grayson, turned to stare at me in shock. His brow furrowed in clear annoyance.

“Just one second. Please?” I held my thumb and forefinger an inch apart.

Without waiting for an answer, I bolted upstairs and returned a moment later, clutching a small tin box.

All eyes were on me.

I lifted the lid. “Mr. Vance, I think this is yours.”

Resting on top was a collection of over a dozen wallet-sized photos. Some were one-by-one inch squares, others slightly larger. They clearly hadn’t been obtained through official channels. Some had the embossed stamp of an ID card, others had dried glue on the back. They’d been peeled off of various documents.

The Grayson in the photos was younger, a hint of boyishness still softening the sharp edges of his features. But even then, his looks were extraordinary.

Beneath the photos was a random assortment of junk: candy wrappers, an empty cigarette pack, used-up pen cartridges, a crumpled test paper.

Grayson’s gaze burned into me. I had to swallow hard before I could continue.

“I found it in the back of my closet. I don’t know who put it there. But I recognized you from the pictures, so I figured it must be yours.”

His expression shifted, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of something analytical, probing. It made me feel small, and I felt my shoulders slump.

He finally spoke. “It’s not mine. Throw it out.”

“Oh. Okay.”

I immediately dumped the contents of the box into a nearby trash can and started to head back upstairs.

Suddenly, a dangerous glint appeared in Grayson’s eyes.

“You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you, Nina?” he called after me.

I turned, confused. “Doing what?”

He let out a short, mocking laugh, his eyes filled with a cynical certainty, as if he could see right through me.

“Never mind. It was a good performance. Don’t do it again. I’m not interested.”

With that, he turned and walked out the door.