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

Chapter 3

My back hit the edge of the mattress, halting my retreat. I stared up at the man I had called my brother for twenty years. The familiar angles of his face and the dark, intense eyes—were the same, but the energy radiating off him was completely different .

Grayson tossed his tie onto my chair and slowly rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, exposing his thick, corded forearms. Every movement he made was deliberate, calculated, and predatory.

"My life is not here," I said, my voice shaking despite my desperate attempt to sound strong.

"My life is in London. I have an apartment. I have a job. I have friends."

"You have a lease that I can cancel with one phone call," Grayson replied, his voice a low, smooth rumble. "You have a job at a firm that I can buy out by tomorrow morning. And as for your friends, I suggest they forget you exist, for their own good."

"Are you insane?" I yelled, the disbelief finally boiling over into anger. I pushed off the bed, trying to dart around him to reach the door.

"You can't just buy my life away! I am a human being, Grayson, not one of your damn assets!"

I didn't even make it two steps.

Before I could blink, his hand lashed out, wrapping around my upper arm. He didn't hurt me, but his grip was a vise. He yanked me back, spinning me around. I stumbled, my feet tangling together, and before I could catch my balance, he shoved me back.

My spine hit the floral wallpaper of my bedroom wall.

A sharp gasp tore from my throat as Grayson immediately stepped into my space. He planted both of his large hands flat against the wall on either side of my head, effectively caging me in. His chest was barely an inch from mine. I could feel the heat rolling off his body, smelling that intoxicating scent that suddenly felt like a drug designed to make my head spin.

"Let me out of here," I breathed, my chest heaving. I refused to look away from him, terrified of what he might do if I showed weakness.

Grayson leaned in, his face so close that his nose almost brushed mine. His dark eyes were bottomless, swirling with an emotion so raw and intense it made my stomach drop.

"Do you know how long I have been waiting for this?" he whispered.

The question sent a cold shockwave straight down to my toes. I remembered how he had said it downstairs, but hearing it now, with his body completely trapping mine against the wall, changed everything.

I stared into his eyes, searching for a trace of the older brother I used to know. I looked for grief. I looked for confusion. I looked for the sadness that any normal person would feel after discovering their sister was a stranger.

There was none.

A horrifying, yet undeniable realization clicked into place. He wasn't sad that we weren't siblings. He was thrilled.

"You..." I choked on the word, my mind spinning as all the puzzle pieces from my past began to snap together with terrifying clarity. "You don't care that I’m your sister. You don't care about Iris."

"I don't give a f**k about Iris," Grayson said smoothly, his eyes dropping to my lips before slowly rising back to meet my gaze. "The only thing I care about is the fact that the one word that stood between us for twenty years is finally gone."

"We grew up together!" I pleaded, pressing the back of my head against the wall, trying to put even a millimeter of distance between us. "You changed my bandages when I scraped my knees. You taught me how to ride a bike. You are my brother!"

"I am a man," he corrected, his voice hardening, turning dark and possessive. "And you are not my sister. You never were. For years, I had to sit back and play the role of the good, protective brother. I had to watch you smile at other boys. I had to watch you grow up, knowing that society, our parents, and that damn piece of paper in the family registry said I couldn't touch you."

He leaned closer, his warm breath fanning across my trembling lips.

"Do you have any idea what that did to me, Belle?" he murmured, his voice laced with a tortured, obsessive hunger. "Watching you walk around this house? Hearing you laugh? Knowing that eventually, some pathetic, unworthy bastard was going to try and take you away from me?"

"So you ruined them," I whispered, the memory of Mark the intern, and the others, flashing in my mind. "You ruined their lives just because they talked to me."

"I protected what is mine," Grayson stated without a shred of remorse. "I built an invisible wall around you. I made sure no one could get close. But then you ran away."

His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking in his cheek. The memory of my escape clearly angered him.

"I couldn't breathe," I shot back, my own anger flaring up to match his. "You suffocated me! You fired my friends, you scared away anyone who even looked at me. You are a psycho, Grayson. And now you expect me to just stay here and play house with you? Because of a DNA test?"

"I don't expect you to play house," he said, his tone turning dangerously low. "I expect you to stay exactly where I can see you. You owe this family twenty years of expenses, Belle. The food you ate, the clothes you wear, the private schools you attended. The debt is in the millions."

I let out a harsh, bitter laugh. "Are you seriously going to charge me for my childhood? A childhood your parents forced upon me because of a hospital error?"

"I'm not," Grayson said, a cold, calculating smirk playing on his lips. "But dad and mom will. They will take you to court. They will ruin your name, freeze your tiny bank accounts, and throw you in a debtor's prison just for the satisfaction of seeing you break. You saw how they looked at you downstairs. They hate you for stealing their real daughter's life."

My stomach turned into a knot of ice. He was right. Arthur and Eleanor were ruthless, status-obsessed monsters. If they wanted to crush me, they easily could. I had no money, no power, and no real family to back me up.

"But I can protect you," Grayson continued, lifting a hand from the wall. He reached out, slowly tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was terrifyingly gentle compared to the harshness of his words. "I can pay off the debt. I can make sure dad and mom never bother you again. All you have to do is sign a contract."

"A contract?" I asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"For what?"

"Employment," he said simply. "You are going to be my new personal assistant. You will work for me, directly by my side, at the company. You will attend my meetings, manage my schedule, and travel with me. And in return, you get to live in this house, fully protected, while your salary pays off your 'debt' to the Jones family."

It was a trap. A perfectly orchestrated trap.

If I said no, I would be thrown to the wolves. My parents—Arthur and Eleanor—would destroy me legally and financially. I would be homeless, drowning in debt, and completely alone. But if I said yes, I would be handing myself over to the very man I had run across the world to escape. I would be locked in his orbit, forced to spend every waking moment with him.

"You planned this," I accused, my voice cracking. "The moment you found out I wasn't your sister, you figured out exactly how to trap me."

Grayson didn't deny it. He just stared at me, his dark eyes tracing the contours of my face like a man memorizing a map to buried treasure.

"I always get what I want, Belle," he whispered.

"Always."

He slowly dragged his knuckles down my cheek, down my neck, sending a shiver through my entire body. My heart hammered against my ribs, and I hated myself for the tiny spark of heat that flared in my chest at his touch. He was dangerous. He was obsessive. But standing this close to him, feeling the absolute power radiating off him... it was completely overwhelming.

"You have until tomorrow morning to sign the paperwork," Grayson said, finally stepping back and dropping his hands to his sides. The sudden absence of his body heat left me feeling cold and strangely empty.

He walked over to the door, placing his hand on the knob. He paused, looking back at me over his shoulder.

"Lock the door tonight," he advised, his tone shifting back to the calm. "Iris is angry, and she is desperate to prove she belongs here. Keep out of her way."

"And what about you?" I blurted out, wrapping my arms around myself defensively. "Do I need to lock my door to keep you out?"

Grayson smiled. It was a slow, wicked curve of his lips that made my breath hitch.

"Belle, if I wanted to come into your bed, a locked door wouldn't stop me."

With that final, chilling promise, he opened the door and walked out into the hallway, pulling it shut behind him.

Click.

I stood frozen against the wall for a long, heavy minute, listening to the sound of his firm footsteps fading down the corridor. When it was finally silent, my knees gave out. I slid down wall until I hit the floor, burying my face in my hands.

I was trapped.

I had lost my family, my identity, and my freedom in a single night. And the man holding the keys to my cage was a man who had spent twenty years pretending to be my brother, waiting in the shadows for the perfect moment to strike.

I dragged myself up from the floor, walking over to the door. With trembling fingers, I turned the deadbolt, hearing the heavy metal slide into place. It was a useless gesture, and I knew it.

Grayson owned this house. He owned my future.

I walked over to my bed, collapsing onto the white duvet without even taking off my coat. I stared up at the ceiling, tears finally stinging the corners of my eyes.

Do you know how long I have been waiting for this?

His voice echoed in my head, a dark, terrifying lullaby. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to block out the memory of his heavy gaze and the burning heat of his touch. But deep down, beneath the fear and the anger, a tiny, rebellious part of my mind couldn't help but wonder.

What happens when a man who has been starving for twenty years finally gets a taste?

I didn't want to find out. But as sleep slowly dragged me under, I knew I didn't have a choice. Tomorrow, I belonged to him.