Chapter 419

Chapter 419:

“Why didn’t you call me immediately?” Isolde asked, keeping her voice low so she wouldn’t wake her. “And why is she here, Grayson? Not at the hospital. Not at my home. Here p>

“I was in a board meeting,” Grayson said, shifting in the leather chair. “The school called my private line. I didn’t think. I just… reacted.” He met her gaze, his eyes shadowed with something that looked like guilt. “They couldn’t reach you. I made a judgment call. I had Arthur clear a line with my personal physician. Bringing her here was faster than waiting in a public ER, and I didn’t want her sitting alone in the back of an ambulance p>

Isolde finally looked up from Effie and stared at him.

His justification was logical, efficient, and completely dismissive of her parental authority. It was the most Grayson Lancaster thing he could have possibly done. And yet, for the first time in five years, his actions had been entirely for Effie’s benefit.

“Thank you,” Isolde said.

The two words felt heavy and strange in her mouth. They tasted like ash.

Grayson stood from the chair, wincing slightly as he stretched his stiff back. He looked around the massive, silent bedroom.

“This apartment,” Grayson murmured, his voice carrying faintly off the bare walls. “It feels completely empty p>

Isolde narrowed her eyes. “You don’t live here p>

“Not since the day you left,” Grayson admitted, his gaze dropping to the floor. “I stay at the corporate hotels in Midtown. Or the estate in the Hamptons.” He looked back up at her, his dark eyes filled with a sudden, raw vulnerability. “There are too many ghosts in here p>

The confession hung heavy in the cold air between them — a massive, unexpected crack in his impenetrable armor. For a moment, the space between them felt dangerously small.

𝘞𝗵𝗮𝘵 𝖾𝗏eryо𝗇e i𝗌 𝘳еа𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗴 𝘰𝘯

Then a harsh buzzing shattered the silence.

Grayson’s cell phone vibrated violently on the wooden nightstand, its bright screen illuminating the dark corner of the room. The caller ID read: Belle. Below her name, a text message preview flashed: Production crisis at the factory. Call me immediately.

Grayson stared down at the glowing screen. He let out a heavy, defeated sigh.

Isolde watched as the raw vulnerability vanished from his eyes. The cold, calculating corporate mask slipped perfectly back into place.

“I have to go,” Grayson said, reaching for the phone and slipping it into his pocket. “Belle is… handling a situation p>

Isolde’s spine went instantly rigid. The fragile moment was completely broken, swept away by the reality of who he had chosen.

“Go,” Isolde said, her voice dropping back to its familiar, freezing zero. “Go save your empire, Grayson p>

He walked toward the bedroom door, then stopped with his hand on the brass knob and looked back at her.

“Stay here tonight,” Grayson said softly. “Let Effie sleep. Don’t move her.” He nodded toward the master bathroom. “I had the kitchen restocked this afternoon, and I had my housekeeper prepare the guest suite. There should be some things for you in the dresser p>

Isolde’s breath caught in her throat. “You presumed I would stay p>