Page 47 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

She answers instantly. “Tell me you have something.”

“We have a crisis,” Olivia says, her voice sharp and efficient. “Calls are already coming in, board members and investors. Eleanor is framing this as an integrity issue. ‘Perfectly Matchedis about trust, and if its leadership is built on deception…’”

“She’s going for the kill shot,” I mutter.

Olivia sighs. “We need to get ahead of this before she spins it completely in her favor. You need a statement,right away.”

Margot and I exchange a look. This isn’t just about damage control, it’s about survival.

“I’ll draft something,” I say. “We’re not letting her take this without a fight.”

Before Olivia can respond, Margot hesitates, biting her lip. “Grayson…” There’s something in her expression. A hesitation. A fear. And then it hits me.

“You knew.” My voice is eerily calm.

Margot’s face pales. “Grayson…”

“How long?” My pulse is a war drum in my ears. “How long have you known?”

She swallows hard. “Eleanor told me yesterday.”

Yesterday. My stomach twists violently.She knew before I did. She knew my entire life was a lie. She knew I wasn’t who I thought I was. And she didn’t tell me. I take a step back, the weight of it all slamming into me. My mother had an affair. My father knew and raised me anyway. The company I’ve spent my entire life building, protecting, fighting for, it isn’t even mine, and the one person I trust the most? She knew before I did. I rake a hand through my hair, my breath uneven. “I can’t… I can’t even look at you right now, Evans.”

Margot flinches like I just slapped her. “Grayson, I wanted to tell you, but I was trying to figure out how to…”

“How to what? How to soften the blow?” I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. “How do yousoftenthe fact that my entire existence is a lie?”

She steps toward me, her blue eyes desperate. “I thought I was protecting you.”

I let out a slow, unsteady breath. “You weren’t protecting me. You were deciding for me.”

I don’t wait for her response. I turn on my heel and walk away. Because right now I can’t think. I just need to get the hell out of here.

Later,at the club, the whiskey burns as it slides down my throat, but it does nothing to numb the ache in my chest. I grip the glass tightly, staring at nothing as the dim, amber lighting flickers over the rim. The club pulses around me, low music hummingin the background, the kind designed to make people forget. To lose themselves. It’s exactly why I came here. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting at the bar, lost in a haze of alcohol and unanswered questions. My phone buzzes on the counter, texts, missed calls, the world closing in. Some are from Olivia. Others from board members. And Margot.

I don’t check hers. I can’t. Not yet. I don’t even know what I’d want her to say.

“Excuse me.” A sultry voice cuts through my thoughts. I glance up as a woman slides onto the barstool next to me. Tall. Blonde. A red dress hugging every curve, cut just low enough to show exactly why she came here tonight. She offers me a smile, slow and knowing. “You look like someone who could use a little company.”

I exhale, rolling my shoulders back. “Not interested.”

She tilts her head, unfazed. “Are you sure? I can be very distracting.”

I meet her gaze with a sharp look. “Do I look like I want to be distracted?”

She pouts but doesn’t push. Smart.

I down the rest of my drink and signal for another. The bartender hesitates before pouring. He can probably tell I’m past my limit. I don’t care.

I was raised to be a King. But I’m not. I was handpicked to runPerfectly Matched. But I have no legal claim to it. I trusted Margot. I believed in us, whatever the helluseven was, but she kept this from me. And maybe the worst part? I can’t even bring myself to hate her for it, because deep down, I think she thought she was protecting something. Protectingme, maybe. Or maybe just protecting herself. Either way, it still feels like betrayal. I lean forward, elbows on the bar, hands pressed to my forehead. I keep replaying the moment she said yes. The way she looked at me like I was her future. And now I have to wonder, how much ofit was real? Did she ever actually believe in me? Or was I just the charming, messy placeholder until she got what she wanted? For the first time in my life, I don’t know who I am. I’ve always been the guy who figures it out, the guy with too much confidence and just enough instinct to make things happen.

But now? Now I feel like I’m standing on someone else’s foundation, and I just found out it was never built for me.

I reach for my phone again. My thumb hovers over her name. Margot. I want to call her. I want to yell. I want to hear her explain. I want her to make it make sense, but instead, I lock the screen and shove the phone into my pocket. I’m not ready to hear her voice. Not if it might break something I’m still not ready to let go of.

35

MARGOT

---