Close Enough To Break
1232 Words
Sloane stared at the photographs, fingers shaking.
Each image was time stamped.
They weren't old. They were recent.
Someone had been watching her following her from the moment she returned from Vegas
The last photo was the worst.
Liam.
He was at the front door of their apartment, earbuds in, oblivious. The shot was zoomed from across the street.
Whoever took it had been close.
Her phone buzzed again.
A second message.
> You're already in too deep. Back out quietly, or your brother becomes collateral.
She dropped the phone.
Her mind raced.
Who was this?
Was it Eleanor?
Someone from Monroe's side?
Or someone new entirely?
One thing was clear Alyssa's warning hadn't been paranoia. It was real.
She snatched her keys, heart pounding.
Liam had said he was staying at his friend Mateo's. She tried his phone.
Straight to voicemail.
No.
No, no, no.
She sent a quick text to Mateo: Is Liam with you right now? Please reply ASAP.
Then she called Grayson.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Sloane?"
"There are photos," she said, her voice shaking. "Of me. Of Liam. Someone's been watching us. They left them at my door."
Silence.
"Send them to me. Now."
She snapped photos of the pictures and the envelope, then texted them.
Grayson didn't speak for nearly a full minute.
Then: "You're not safe there. I'm sending security to your building. Stay inside and do not open the door for anyone but Mallory or Bennett."
"I need to find Liam."
"I'm on it. What's his friend's name?"
"Mateo Alvarez."
"I'll have Mallory call the school and find addresses. Give me twenty minutes."
"Grayson"
"I won't let anything happen to him," he said. "Or you."
Security arrived within twelve minutes three men in black, expressionless and precise.
Sloane paced the apartment as Mallory called with updates.
"Mateo's parents confirmed Liam's there," Mallory said. "He fell asleep early, left his phone on silent."
Sloane sagged in relief, knees weak.
"Do they know"
"They don't know anything beyond him staying the night. But we're stationing a car outside their building until morning."
"Thank you," Sloane whispered.
"And Grayson wants you at the penthouse. Tonight."
"I can't"
"You can and you will," Mallory said. "You're the only leverage these people think they have. If they touch you, they touch the Astor name. And that's what they want."
Sloane closed her eyes.
This wasn't a game anymore.
It hadn't been for a long time.
The penthouse was quiet when she arrived too quiet.
She stepped inside, clutching the envelope like it might protect her.
Grayson was already waiting in the living room, sleeves rolled up, glass of whiskey untouched in his hand.
When he saw her, he crossed the room and pulled her into his arms without hesitation.
She didn't resist.
She just let herself lean into him just for a second.
"You're shaking," he murmured.
"There were pictures of Liam."
"I know."
"I thought we were playing pretend," she whispered. "But this this is war."
Grayson pulled back and looked into her eyes.
"I never meant for it to get this far."
"But it has. So now what?"
He exhaled slowly. "Now, we stop pretending."
They sat across from each other, the envelope between them.
"I know who sent this," Grayson said.
"Who?"
"Elena Bravik."
Sloane blinked. "Who?"
"She was Monroe's fixer. She worked under Elias handled legal sweeps, financial cleanups, and sometimes threats. She vanished when Alyssa did."
"You think she's back?"
"I know she is. Mallory picked up movement on dormant Monroe accounts two weeks ago small enough not to flag the feds, but enough to fund something quiet. Someone's bankrolling a ghost."
"And you think she's after me?"
"She's not after you," Grayson said darkly. "She's after me. You're just the pressure point."
Sloane stared down at the photos.
"And Liam?"
"She wants me off-balance. Threatening your brother ensures that."
"She said I'm in too deep," Sloane whispered. "That if I don't back out, he'll get hurt."
Grayson's eyes darkened. "Then we make sure you don't back out."
She looked up sharply. "What does that mean?"
He leaned forward.
"It means we make this marriage real."
The silence between them thickened.
Sloane stared.
"You want to make it official?"
"It already is official."
"Grayson"
"If they think this is a contract or a façade, they'll exploit it. But if they believe you're mine truly mine they'll think twice. Because attacking you will be an attack on the Astor name. On the future."
"So we play a stronger bluff?"
"No," he said. "We stop bluffing altogether."
Sloane's heart slammed against her ribs.
"I don't know if I can do that."
Grayson stood, pacing.
"Do you trust me?"
She hesitated.
"Do you?" he pressed.
"I want to."
"That's not enough."
"It's all I have."
He stepped closer, slower this time.
"Then let me show you who I really am."
Sloane shook her head. "I don't want a power move. I don't want protection if it costs me my peace. I don't want a husband who uses love like leverage."
"I don't want to use you, Sloane," he said quietly. "I want to choose you."
She blinked, stunned still.
"I'm not saying I'm perfect. I'm not saying I'm safe. But I know what I feel when I look at you. I know what I'd do to keep you safe. And it's not pretend. Not anymore."
Sloane's voice came out as a whisper. "I'm scared."
"Good," he said. "So am I."
Later that night, Sloane couldn't sleep.
She stood in the penthouse's guest room, staring out at the glowing skyline, her arms wrapped around herself.
Everything felt like it was unraveling.
She didn't hear the door open, but she felt him approach.
Grayson stopped beside her, silent for a moment.
Then he said, "You asked me once if I was protecting something. Or someone."
Sloane glanced at him.
"And you said you were protecting me."
"I meant it. But I've also been protecting someone else."
"Who?"
He took a breath.
"Mallory."
Sloane blinked. "What?"
"She's not just my assistant. She's my half-sister."
Her knees nearly gave out. "What?"
"Our father had an affair with her mother before he married mine. He kept them hidden out of the will, off the record. When he died, she showed up to his funeral. Eleanor threatened her. I stepped in."
"And hired her?"
"And gave her everything I could without publicly claiming her. The board doesn't know. No one does. But if this mess goes public if the vault is exposed she's at risk too. She helped me cover some of the fallout."
Sloane sat down hard on the edge of the bed.
"I don't even know who I'm married to," she whispered.
Grayson crouched in front of her.
"You're married to a man who made mistakes. Who lost people. Who tried to
protect what was left. And now I'm trying to protect you."
She looked up.
And for the first time, she didn't see the cold billionaire or the ghost of Alyssa's past.
She saw a man unraveling in real time.
And maybe just maybe willing to rebuild from the pieces
Outside the building, in a black car idling near the curb, Elena Bravik lowered her binoculars.
"Confirmation?" came a voice through her earpiece.
She smiled.
"They're together. But she's not broken yet."
A pause.
"Then break her."
- Writer
