CHAPTER FOUR: THE FAMILY TEST
733 Words
CHAPTER FOUR: THE FAMILY TEST
Evelyn's POV
The morning arrived far too quickly.
I woke to the unfamiliar ceiling of the Grayson penthouse and spent a few seconds wondering where I was.
Then everything came rushing back.
Richard.
My grandfather's company.
Anthony.
The wedding.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.
A soft knock interrupted my thoughts.
"Miss Morrison?" Emmanuel's calm voice came through the door. "Breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. Mr. Grayson asked me to remind you that his parents expect us at ten."
"Tell him I'll be there."
By the time I reached the dining room, Anthony was already dressed in a charcoal suit, reading through several documents while drinking his usual black coffee.
He looked up briefly.
"You slept."
"Barely."
"You'll survive."
"I appreciate your confidence."
A faint smile crossed his face.
"You'll need it today."
I sat opposite him.
"What exactly am I walking into?"
"My mother will be polite but observant. My father will ask difficult questions and pretend they're casual conversation. Victoria will probably decide whether she likes you within the first five minutes."
"Comforting."
"They're protective, not cruel."
"There's a difference?"
"There is."
Emmanuel placed breakfast before us.
For several minutes we ate in silence before Anthony folded his newspaper.
"One more thing."
I looked up.
"My grandfather will be there."
"The same grandfather who wanted me out of the engagement yesterday?"
"The very one."
I sighed.
"Wonderful."
---
The Grayson estate sat on several acres outside London, hidden behind wrought-iron gates and centuries-old oak trees.
It wasn't flashy.
It was old money.
Stone walls.
Perfect gardens.
A mansion that had stood long before either Anthony or I had been born.
"This place is beautiful," I admitted.
"My mother says houses should survive generations."
"I think she'd approve of my grandfather."
"I suspect they would have argued constantly."
Before I could answer, the front doors opened.
A woman in an elegant navy dress stepped outside.
She looked remarkably like Anthony.
Same gray eyes.
Same composed expression.
"Anthony."
She embraced her son before turning to me.
"So this is Evelyn."
Her voice was warm.
Not overly warm.
Measured.
I offered my hand.
"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Grayson."
She ignored my hand and hugged me instead.
"Melinda," she corrected. "If you're marrying my son, formalities will become exhausting."
The unexpected kindness caught me off guard.
"Thank you."
Inside, another man stood waiting beside the fireplace.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered despite his age.
Vincent Grayson.
He didn't smile.
"So," he said.
"You're the woman who has completely disrupted my son's carefully organized life."
Anthony answered before I could.
"Good morning to you too, Father."
Vincent ignored him.
His attention remained fixed on me.
"You've caused quite a storm."
"I didn't intend to."
"But you don't regret it."
"No."
Something unreadable flickered across his face.
Then, unexpectedly—
He laughed.
"A sensible answer."
He extended his hand.
"Welcome."
Relief spread through my chest.
Maybe today wouldn't be a disaster after all.
"Anthony!"
A young woman hurried down the staircase.
She wore jeans, trainers, and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up.
Nothing about her looked like the daughter of one of Britain's wealthiest families.
She hugged Anthony before turning toward me with obvious curiosity.
"So you're Evelyn."
"I am."
Victoria Grayson smiled.
"My brother hasn't stopped talking about you."
Anthony looked genuinely horrified.
"I've done no such thing."
Victoria laughed.
"Relax. I meant he's mentioned your name at least six times this week. That's practically a declaration of love for him."
Anthony muttered something under his breath.
For the first time since meeting him...
He actually looked embarrassed.
---
Lunch passed more easily than Evelyn expected.
The conversation moved from medicine to architecture, from business to travel.
Melinda asked thoughtful questions about Ashford Pharmaceuticals.
Vincent challenged several of Evelyn's business decisions, only to nod approvingly when she defended them.
Even Victoria seemed genuinely interested in hearing about the research her grandfather had begun.
By dessert, the tension had almost disappeared.
Almost.
A servant quietly entered the dining room.
"Sir..."
Vincent looked up.
"What is it?"
"Mr. Richard Clarke is at the gate."
The room fell silent.
"He insists on speaking with Miss Morrison."
Anthony slowly placed his fork on the table.
"I believe," he said calmly, "that our peaceful family lunch has just come to an end."
Outside the mansion gates...
Richard Clarke was waiting.
- Writer
