Chapter 161
Chapter 161:
Isolde’s composure cracked. She moved toward the stairs, but Grayson rose from his seat and stepped into her path.
“Stay here,” he commanded. “We talk first p>
“Get out of my way, Grayson p>
“So you can grab her and run?” he scoffed. “I don’t think so. Sit down. Let’s be civilized p>
𝗬𝘰𝘂𝘳 ո𝖾х𝘁 fа𝘃o𝗋it𝗲 r𝖾а𝘥 іs 𝗈ո ѕ.𝗰оm
Isolde stood her ground, her body vibrating with rage. She looked past him to Effie and forced a smile that felt like broken glass. “It’s okay, sweetie,” she said. “Mommy’s just talking to Daddy. Go back to your room for a minute. I’ll be right up p>
Effie looked uncertainly between her parents, then slowly retreated. The soft click of the bedroom door echoed through the house.
The moment it shut, Isolde turned on him. “If you have harmed one hair on her head p>
“She’s fine,” Grayson snapped. “Better than fine. She’s with her father. Unlike her mother, who’s been too busy playing CEO to even notice she was gone for three hours p>
The accusation landed like a physical blow.
“I am building a future for her. You are using her as a shield because you are a failure p>
A shadow fell across the doorway. Liam, Grayson’s driver, stood at the threshold, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Sir,” Liam said quietly. “We need to leave if you’re going to make your meeting p>
“Cancel it,” Grayson said without looking at him. He turned his attention back to Isolde. “Get in your car. We’ll finish this conversation on the way back to the city p>
“I’m not going anywhere without my daughter p>
“She’ll come with us,” Grayson said. “Liam can drive her and your mother back to the penthouse. You and I will ride together. We have terms to discuss p>
It wasn’t a request. It was a threat. He was separating her from Effie again, using her daughter as a hostage in a conversation she had no desire to have.
She had no choice. For now.
“Fine,” she spat.
She walked back to her own car, where Ellyn was waiting anxiously. Liam retrieved a sleepy Effie and buckled her into the back of the Lincoln alongside Ellyn. Watching her daughter be driven away by her enemy’s men sent a fresh stab of pain through her chest.
She got into the passenger seat of Grayson’s Maybach. He slid in behind the wheel.
The interior smelled of leather and sandalwood — Grayson’s scent. It was a visceral trigger, summoning memories of safety that now felt like lies.
He merged onto the expressway. The silence between them was thick with unspoken violence.
Grayson glanced at Isolde. Rainwater was still dripping from her hair from the short walk outside. He reached into a compartment and produced a thick, plush towel, tossing it into her lap.
“Dry off,” he said coldly. “Water stains the leather. The detailing fee is astronomical p>
Isolde caught the towel with her left hand. “I’ll send you a check p>
“With what funds?” Grayson asked, a bitter edge sharpening his voice. “Your new friends at Orbital paying you that well already p>