Do You Know How Long I’ve Been Waiting for This?

Chapter 2

His words hung in the air, thick and suffocating. Do you know how long I have been waiting for this?

My brain scrambled to find a logical explanation, any explanation, but the sheer intensity in Grayson’s eyes blocked out all rational thought. He wasn't talking about the shock of a broken family. He wasn't mourning the loss of a sister.

The dark, dangerous curve of his lips told me exactly what he meant. He was talking about me.

"Grayson, let go," I whispered, my voice trembling as I tried to pull my wrist from his grasp. His grip was like iron—not enough to bruise, but entirely unyielding. He didn't budge a single millimeter.

"Two years, Belle," he murmured, his thumb slowly brushing against the racing pulse point on my wrist. The heat of his skin felt warm.

"You ran across an ocean, changed your number, and thought you could just disappear. You thought I’d let you go."

"I am not your sister!" I burst out, the panic finally breaking through my throat. I used my free hand to push against his solid chest, but it was like trying to move a brick wall. "Did you hear what Mom and Dad just said? I’m a fake. I don't belong here. I'm leaving!"

"I heard them," Grayson said, his voice terrifyingly calm. He leaned down even closer, his breath warm against my ear. "And I don't give a shit."

Before I could process the absolute madness of his words, the heavy sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway. I snapped my head around, desperate for any kind of interruption, even if it came from the people who had just disowned me.

Arthur and Eleanor stepped into the foyer, with Iris trailing closely behind them.

The moment Iris saw us, her tear-stained face morphed into a mask of pure, ugly jealousy. Her eyes darted from my face down to where Grayson’s large hand was wrapped around my wrist. She looked like she wanted to rip my throat out right then and there.

"Grayson?" Eleanor spoke up, her voice sharp and dripping with disapproval. "What are you doing? Let that girl go. The cab is still waiting outside. She needs to leave."

Arthur crossed his arms, his stern face hardening. "Grayson, we explained the situation to you over the phone. She is an imposter. A mistake. Your real sister is standing right here. Iris is the one who belongs in this family."

Grayson didn't let go of me. In fact, he pulled me slightly closer to his side, his body heat radiating through my thin trench coat. He slowly turned his head to look at our parents—no, their parents.

The look on Grayson’s face was completely devoid of emotion. It was the same cold.

"I don't recall asking for your input, Arthur," Grayson said coldly.

I gasped softly. He had never called our father by his first name in front of me before.

Arthur’s face flushed a deep, angry red. "How dare you speak to me that way! I am your father, and I am the master of this house. I told you, that girl is leaving tonight. We are rewriting the family registry tomorrow. She has spent twenty years leeching off our wealth, and it ends now."

Iris stepped forward, sniffing loudly, playing the part of the victim perfectly. "Grayson... right? I'm Iris. I've spent my whole life living in a terrible apartment, working three jobs just to survive, while she lived in luxury. Please don't defend her. She stole my life."

I felt a sudden, heavy pang of guilt twist in my stomach. She was right. I had lived her life. I had traveled the world, gone to top-tier schools, and never wondered where my next meal was coming from, while she foster-hopped and struggled.

"Look," I said, trying to find my voice as I looked at Iris. "I am so sorry. I didn't know. I’ll leave right now, I swear. Grayson, let me go."

"Shut up, Belle," Grayson commanded, his tone dropping an octave. It wasn't a mean shout; it was a quiet, absolute directive that made my mouth click shut automatically.

He finally looked away from me and fixed his lethal glare onto Arthur and Eleanor.

"Let me make something entirely clear to all of you," Grayson stated, his voice echoing in the grand, high-ceilinged foyer. "I don't care about bloodlines. I don't care about a hospital mix-up twenty years ago. The Jones empire doesn't run on genetics; it runs on power. And right now, I hold all of it."

Arthur took a threatening step forward. "Grayson, don't tempt me. I built this company—"

"And I saved it from bankruptcy three years ago when you made that disastrous offshore investment," Grayson interrupted, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "I own seventy percent of the voting shares. The house is registered under my name. The bank accounts you use to fund your country club memberships and designer clothes are managed by my firm. If I decide to cut you off, you’ll be living in the dirt by the end of the week."

The foyer fell into a dead, horrifying silence.

Eleanor looked like she was about to faint. Her hand flew to her throat, her chest heaving as she stared at her son in absolute terror. Arthur’s mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out. He knew Grayson wasn't bluffing. Grayson never bluffed.

Iris looked completely lost. She had probably spent the last few weeks imagining a grand reunion where her wealthy, powerful older brother would spoil her and kick out the interloper. Instead, she was realizing that the brother she just met was a monster who didn't care about her at all.

"Grayson," Eleanor whispered, her voice shaking.

"She isn't your sister. It’s a scandal. What will high society say if she stays here? People will talk."

"Let them talk," Grayson sneered. "If anyone asks, Belle is my personal assistant. She owes this family twenty years of financial debt for her upbringing, and she will be working it off under my direct supervision. She stays in the mansion. In her room."

My eyes widened. "What?! No! I'm not staying here!"

I started to thrash against him, using all my strength to rip my hand away. The thought of being trapped in this house again, but this time with a hostile family and an openly predatory Grayson, was terrifying.

"Grayson, you can't do this! This is kidnapping! It’s goddamn illegal!" I yelled, abandoning all my attempts at keeping my composure.

Grayson didn't even blink at my outburst. With one smooth, effortless movement, he yanked me forward, spinning me around so my back hit his chest. His large arm wrapped tightly around my waist, locking me against him. I could feel the hard planes of his muscles, the steady, heavy thud of his heart against my shoulder blades.

"Call the police then, Belle," he whispered in my ear, his voice sending a wave of goosebumps down my arms. "See how fast they turn around when they realize whose name is on the deed of this house."

He looked over my shoulder at our stunned parents. "Take Iris to the guest wing. Don't touch Belle’s things. If I see a single item missing from her room, there will be consequences."

Without waiting for a reply, Grayson picked up my single suitcase with his free hand. He didn't let go of my waist, effectively forcing me to walk sideways with him as he guided me toward the grand, sweeping staircase.

"Let me go, you asshole!" I hissed, kicking my feet, but he just hoisted me a little higher, carrying most of my weight as we ascended the stairs.

I looked down over the banister one last time. Iris was standing in the foyer, staring up at us. The tearful, innocent act was completely gone. Her face was twisted into a snarl of pure hatred, her fists clenched so hard her knuckles were white. She looked at me like I was a plague that needed to be eradicated.

We reached the second floor, and the heavy silence of the upper hallway swallowed us up. Grayson walked down the long corridor until we reached the very end—the door to my old bedroom.

He opened the door, tossed my suitcase onto the floor, and practically shoved me inside.

I stumbled a few steps, spinning around quickly just as he stepped into the room and closed the heavy door behind him with a soft, definitive click.

The room was exactly how I had left it two years ago. The white canopy bed, the vanity mirror, the rows of books. It felt like a cage.

I backed away from him until the back of my knees hit the edge of my bed. "Grayson, please. Just let me leave. This is crazy. You have a real sister now. Go spend time with her. Let me go back to my life."

Grayson walked toward me, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his dress shirt, loosening his tie.

The safe, protective older brother I had loved my entire life was completely gone. In his place stood a man who looked like he was finally done playing games.

"Your life is here, Belle," he said, stopping right in front of me, shadowing me with his massive height. "It has always been here. With me."