Chapter 163
“He looks at you like a starving man looks at a feast,” Grandma whispered. “Trust an old woman. He isn’t acting.”
Jocelyn flushed. “You’re imagining things.”
“I’m old, not blind,” Grandma said, closing her eyes. “Now go. I need my nap. Run your empire.”
Jocelyn leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Rest now.”
She left the room with her mind racing. Starving man.
She thought of the yacht. The almost-kiss. The way he had gone after Kieran. The roses.
Her phone rang. It was Vincent’s lawyer.
“Ms. Wolfe, we are filing for wrongful termination,” the lawyer droned.
“Get in line,” Jocelyn said, and hung up.
She walked out into the sunlight. She felt stronger than she had in years. Her grandmother’s approval was the final piece of armor she had not known she was missing.
Ch𝘪𝗻𝘦𝘴e ո𝗼𝗏𝘦𝗅𝗌 𝗍𝗋𝗮𝘯𝗌𝗅atе𝖽 𝘰ո 𝗀a𝗹n𝗈𝗏e𝗹𝘴.c𝗼𝗺
She pulled out her phone and texted Gaston.
Grandma likes you. She thinks you have teeth.
A minute later, he replied.
Your grandmother is a wise woman. Get some rest, Jocelyn.
She stared at the message. She had expected something sharp and witty, something that fit the cold businessman she had married. But this was gentle. Concerned. An unexpected warmth spread through her chest — a feeling so unfamiliar she almost did not recognize it. It was not a joke or a power play.
It was simply kind.
She found herself smiling — a small, genuine smile that reached her eyes. Whatever this game was between them, it was unmistakably changing.
The morning sun sliced through the floor-to-ceiling windows of the penthouse, hitting Jocelyn directly in the eyes. She groaned and rolled over in the massive bed, her hand brushing against cool, high-thread-count sheets that felt too empty beside her.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand. She picked it up, squinting against the glare.
Sleep well, wife? The coffee machine is programmed for 8:00 AM. Don’t be late for your brunch.
It was from Gaston.
Jocelyn stared at the screen. Her heart did a traitorous little flip — a physical thud against her ribs that she resented immediately. She hated how effortlessly good he was at this.
He’s gay, she reminded herself, forcing her breathing to slow. He’s impeccable at the role. That’s all this is. A performance.
She swung her legs out of bed. Her grandmother’s voice from yesterday drifted back to her, unbidden. He looks at you like a starving man looks at a feast.
“Grandma is senile,” Jocelyn whispered to the empty room. She stood and pushed the thought away, ignoring the way her skin prickled at the memory of Gaston’s dark eyes.
An hour later, she was at a corner table at Sadelle’s in SoHo, an untouched bagel tower in front of her. Across the table sat Bella Douglas, Kieran’s cousin, her manicured thumb scrolling through her phone at remarkable speed.
“Did you see the stock price?” Bella asked, not looking up. “You’re a hero, J. Seriously. Kieran is furious, obviously, but the rest of the street thinks you’re a genius. Wolfe Hotel bookings are up two hundred percent.”
.