Page 49 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

Isabella sighs, inspecting her nails. “Honestly, I have no idea what this meeting is about, but I do know one thing, if you screw this up and take Margot out of the equation, I am out.”

Cassian nods in agreement. “And Inevergive second chances.”

A murmur ripples through the board. The tide is shifting. Eleanor’s lips press together. For the first time, she does not look entirely in control. I inhale sharply, my pulse slowing as I sit back in my chair. I might not have a plan yet. But I just got my opening. And I am about to make Eleanor regret ever underestimating me.

36

GRAYSON

The pounding in my head isn’t just from the whiskey. I wake up in my apartment, sprawled across my couch, my suit from last night still clinging to me like a bad decision. My tie is loose, my shirt rumpled, and the scent of expensive scotch lingers on my skin. The city skyline stretches beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, the soft morning light creeping in like an unwelcome guest. My phone vibrates on the coffee table. I don’t need to check to know who it is.

Margot. I let it ring. There are already too many unread messages, too many missed calls. I can’t deal with it right now. Instead, I sit up slowly, rubbing a hand over my face. My temples throb, my mouth is dry, and my suit jacket is still draped over the arm of the couch where I threw it last night. I look like hell. I push up from the couch, unbuttoning the top few buttons of my dress shirt as I pace toward the kitchen. The marble countertops gleam under the morning light, everything pristine except for the half-empty tumbler of whiskey sitting next to an untouched glass of water. I should drink the water, but I don’t.

Everything feels different. Not in ahangover-that-will-pass-in-a-few-hoursway. No, this is something deeper. Heavier.Yesterday, I was Grayson King, heir toPerfectly Matched, the man who had spent his entire life building the company into a powerhouse. Today, I am… no one. A fraud. A mistake. And the worst part? Margot knew before I did. The thought twists inside me like a knife, sharp and unforgiving, but beneath the hurt, beneath the betrayal, something else lurks. Fear. The kind that tightens in my chest when I think about facing her. Because if I look into those blue eyes and see regret instead of certainty, if I hear her say that she thought she was doing the right thing, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold onto this anger. And if I let it go, what then? What happens when I admit that I still love her more than I hate what she did?

A sharp knock at the door cuts through my thoughts. I exhale slowly, pushing a hand through my disheveled hair. I should change. Put on a fresh suit. Look like the man I was yesterday. But I don’t. Instead, I roll my shoulders back, tighten my jaw, and swing the door open. Cassian Laurent stands there, impeccably dressed as always, charcoal-gray suit, crisp white shirt, and a watch that probably costs more than most people’s yearly salaries. His hair is effortlessly styled, not a strand out of place. Unlike me, he looks like a man in control. Of course he does.

Cassian isn’t just anyone. He’s one of Perfectly Matched’s biggest clients, a high-profile investor who turned his discreet, high-net-worth matchmaking package into the kind of PR gold we built entire campaigns around. Every time he’s seen in public with someone new, peopletalk, and when they talk, they sign up. He doesn’t make surprise visits. Not without a reason.

I step aside, wordlessly letting him in, my stomach already knotting. Whatever this is, it’s not just social.

He arches a brow as his gaze sweeps over me. “Rough night, King?”

I grunt and step aside, letting him in. He walks in like he owns the place, surveying my penthouse with an approving nod.

“Can’t say I’m surprised,” he muses, sliding his hands into his pockets. “Though I must say, I expected a man in the middle of a personal and professional identity crisis to have better scotch.”

I scowl. “If you came here to mock me, get in line.”

He smirks. “Tempting. But no. I came because your fiancée is about to make a very reckless decision, and as much as I enjoy watching chaos unfold, I dislike incompetence.”

My spine straightens instantly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask.

Cassian steps forward, his expression cooling. “Eleanor made her move this morning. She called an emergency board meeting, tried to cut you out completely. Margot was next.”

I clench my fists. I should have expected this. “She didn’t take the deal, did she?”

He smirks. “Of course not. She may be reckless, but she’s not an idiot. Fortunately for both of you, Isabella and I made a well-timed entrance.”

I stare at him, my mind working to process. Cassian Laurent, theCassian Laurent, just bailed Margot out. The universe has a sick sense of humor. I exhale sharply, shaking my head. “Why do I feel like you didn’t do this out of the kindness of your heart?”

He smiles, slow and deliberate. “Because I didn’t.”

I cross my arms. “Let me guess. You want something.”

“Obviously.” He takes a seat, stretching his legs like he has all the time in the world. “I agreed toPerfectly Matchedhandling my case, and I expect a flawless execution. I don’t care if you’re having an existential crisis, King. Get it together.”

My jaw tightens. “I’m still the best in this business, no matter what Eleanor says.”

“Prove it.”

Before I can respond, my phone vibrates again. This time, it’s not Margot.

It’s Olivia. I answer. “Tell me it’s good news.”

“Depends on your definition of good,” she says, her voice clipped. “Margot is on her way to meet Eleanor right now, and I think she’s about to do somethingreallystupid.”

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