Elaine
"Is she mine?"
I froze, Grayson's bitter voice slamming me back to that morning—six years ago, and for the longest second, I just blinked at him.
How much, Elaine?
Not enough still?
Or maybe you'd prefer a condo. A mansion. A comfortable life?
What's your rate, Elaine?
"Is she mine?" He repeated, the bite in his tone snapping me from the cruel memory of that day as realisation slammed into me with his question.
He had only now just looked into me? The knowledge of it shouldn't have, but it left a bitter taste in my mouth.
For six years, I thought I was hiding Claire well. But it wasn't me—it was him. He'd simply never looked. He'd not only thrown me out of his hotel room, but out of his life too, he'd never bothered to even know what became of me.
"Of course he didn't,"
