Trash?
It was anything but a mistake. It was deliberate.
Grayson’s gaze hardened as he studied Spencer’s pathetic attempt at remorse. His voice, now tinged with simmering anger, cut through the air like a blade.
"And who do you think you are? Who gave you the right to touch anything in this house? And more importantly, who invited you to stay here? Get out. Now."
Spencer, a grown man, shrank under the weight of Grayson’s fury, his eyes welling up with tears. "I’m sorry! It’s my fault, all of it. I know I shouldn’t have been here. I’ll clean your suit, every last stain. I’ll leave immediately. You’ll never have to see me again, I swear!"
He looked as though the weight of the world had settled on his shoulders. As he bent down, Savannah’s hand shot out, gripping his arm with surprising force as she pulled him behind her.
"Grayson, Spencer, and I grew up together. Now that his business has collapsed and he’s battling depression, he came to me for help. And this is how you repay him by insulting him like this?"
"If he’s not worthy of staying, then you’re even less worthy of being here."
"Don’t forget who’s given you everything you have."
"Let me make this clear: no one but me has the right to ask Spencer to leave. If you don’t like it, then feel free to pack your bags and go."
"This is my house, Grayson. We’re not even married yet, and letting you stay here is already more than generous."
Hearing her relentless barrage of accusations, Grayson let out a bitter laugh, one that tasted like ash in his mouth.
He had fought tooth and nail to steady Savannah's company, working around the clock, pushing himself to the brink of exhaustion. If it weren’t for him, it would have crumbled long ago, swallowed by its own debts. And the money that bought this house? That came from his first hard-won deal, a victory he’d earned by surviving on scraps, with nothing but blood, sweat, and determination in his pocket.
And now, this was what he got.
Grayson wanted to confront Savannah, but her eyes were locked on Spencer, her gaze soft and tender as she spoke. "Spencer, don’t be afraid. As long as I’m here, no one can hurt you."
Spencer wiped his tears, offering Grayson a shaky smile, his eyes red and puffy. "Brother Grayson, I know you don’t like seeing me and Savannah together, but don’t worry. I’ll be leaving soon."
He then turned to Savannah with a look of pure helplessness. "Savannah, I know you care about me, but I don’t want to get in the way of your happiness. After all, you’re about to get married. Please don’t let me come between you two."
Savannah’s voice was firm yet gentle. "Spencer, don’t talk like that. This is your home, too. Stay for as long as you need."
Savannah comforted Spencer softly, her words a gentle balm to his wounds. But when her gaze shifted back to Grayson, it turned as cold as ice. "Grayson, I’ve already agreed to marry you. If Spencer and I were really involved, you would have been out of the picture a long time ago. Take a hard look at your actions, and come talk to me once you’ve learned your lesson."
With that, Savannah led Spencer toward the bedroom, her voice soothing him with reassurance.
As they walked away, Grayson felt a bitter taste rise in his throat. The words he had wanted to say caught in his chest, too heavy to speak. His mind flashed back to the image that had haunted him all night, their embrace through the office window, the kiss that had shattered everything.
Spencer had wept, his voice a fragile whisper, "Why are you marrying him and not me?"
Savannah had held him close, her gaze tender and filled with quiet affection. "Spencer, you know where my heart lies. I never imagined you’d come back to me…"
"Now that you’re here, the wedding is yours."
"Really?"
"Of course."
"And I have a gift for you, too."
In the darkened hallway, Grayson hadn’t been able to endure another moment. He couldn’t recall how he’d made it back to his office, only that, years ago, those same words, that same warmth, had been his and Savannah’s.
