What if Vanessa twisted things?
Vanessa's voice was silk and venom. "And I will ruin your marriage."
Gray's stomach dropped.
Then—
A small red light blinked on his desk.
His dictaphone. That usually got stuck at record.
Still recording.
His pulse spiked—not in fear this time, but in something colder, sharper.
Slowly, he turned his gaze back to Vanessa.
And smirked.
Vanessa frowned, something uncertain flickering across her face. "What?"
Gray sat back and slowly reachedout to hold the dictaphone up. "Oh, nothin'. Just... ya might want to be more careful with yer threats. Wouldn't want them endin' up in the wrong hands, now would we?"
Her eyes flickered to the desk.
To the blinking red light.
Her face drained of colour.
Gray leaned forward, voice low and lethal.
"Now get the fuck out of me sight."
Vanessa whirled around and stormed out, her shoes squeaking hard against the floor.
Gray let out a slow breath, his heart still pounding.
Then he picked up the dictaphone, turned off the recording, and smiled to himself.
Checkmate.
Chapter 48
The evening was quiet, the soft hum of the music from the radio filling the kitchen as Cadi wiped down the counters and Gray loaded the dishwasher.
It had become a routine, something small but steady, a rhythm they had fallen into.
Gray was telling Cadi of the day's events "And so, I had to go to Burton with the tape and get my manager and the anaesthesia lead involved."
Cadi paused, looking over her shoulder. "He actually let you off for recording Vanessa?"
Gray nodded, placing a plate onto the rack. "Aye. Thought it was best to escalate it. Ya know the rules about recordin' conversations with colleagues, but since she threatened me—and my family—he said this was different."
He shut the dishwasher door with a quiet click, wiping his hands on a towel before turning to face her.
"He let me borrow it for the night, so you could hear it. Unofficially. I have to return it tomorrow."
Cadi turned off the tap, drying her hands carefully before taking the dictaphone Gray handed her.