Page 44 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

Grayson nudges me. “Admit it. You’re getting sappy.”

I glance up at him, smirking. “I don’t do sappy.”

His hand tightens around mine, and his voice softens. “We’ll see about that.”

Hours later, beneath the glow of chandeliers and laughter-filled conversations, I find myself standing on the terrace, a glass of champagne in hand. The reception is in full swing, but I needed a moment to breathe.

Grayson finds me easily, slipping an arm around my waist. "Hiding?"

I lean into him. "Just taking it all in."

He hums, pressing a slow kiss to my temple. "I like the view from here."

I laugh softly. "Smooth, King."

"Always," he replies.

Before I can reply, he shifts, reaching into his pocket, and suddenly, I notice movement behind him. His family, his mother, his sister, a few cousins, are stepping onto the terrace, watching with quiet anticipation. It’s as if they already know what’s coming, and my heart pounds harder. My breath hitches as he pulls out a small velvet box and opens it, revealing astunning ring that catches the light just right. My vision blurs slightly, emotions crashing over me in waves. Behind him, his mother covers her mouth, eyes glistening, while his sister clutches her heart, already tearing up and simultaneously taking rapid-fire photos on her phone. "Oh my God, this isperfect," she whispers, angling for the best shot. "I’m going to make an entire album called ‘Grayson Finally Gets His Shit Together.’". Even his normally stoic cousins look soft around the edges, as if witnessing something inevitable and beautiful. I freeze, my chest tightening with overwhelming emotion. "Grayson, what are you doing?" My voice is barely above a whisper, the weight of the moment pressing down on me.

His voice is steady, his blue eyes locked onto mine. "We’ve fought for everything we have, and I don’t want to spend another second fighting against what’s been obvious for years."

A slow breath escapes me as my world narrows down to this moment. For a second, I thinkI didn’t see this coming. But the truth is, I did. Ifeltit. I felt it in the way my heart always raced when he walked into the room, in the way his voice could cut through the noise and calm me. I felt it in every late-night conversation, every accidental touch that lingered a beat too long, every time he looked at me like I was the only thing he saw. This wasn’t sudden. It had been building, quiet and steady, through every battle and every breakthrough. And now, staring at him, everything inside me settles. This isn’t a surprise. It’s a revelation. This is love. It always has been.

"Marry me, Evans. Let’s make it official."

A lump forms in my throat, my heart pounding so hard I can feel it in my fingertips. There’s a lifetime of tension, of near-misses and almost-confessions, of stolen glances and silent wishes, all leading to this. He’s standing in front of me, offering me forever, and for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m bracing fora fall, I feel like I’ve landed exactly where I’m supposed to be. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just certainty.

I nod, a slow, radiant smile spreading across my face. "Yeah, King. Let’s make it official."

As he slides the ring onto my finger, his thumb grazing my knuckles like he’s sealing something sacred, I choke out a breathless laugh, tears blurring my vision. He cups my face in his hands, gently, like I’m something precious, and when his lips brush mine, it’s not just a kiss, it’s a promise. A beginning. A forever kind of moment.

The cheers of his family echo around us, distant and dreamlike, but all I can focus on is him, his touch, his warmth, the way his eyes never leave mine. This was never just about winning. It was never just a rivalry, or a business, or a game. This was always aboutus.

Then my phone buzzes in my purse. Once. Then again. I glance down.Eleanor.

I silence it without answering. Not now. Whatever it is, it can wait. Right now, there’s only this, his hands, his eyes, his smile. And a future I didn’t see coming.

33

MARGOT

Istill can't believe I'm engaged. The excitement hums beneath my skin as I watch Grayson across the room, effortlessly charming guests at our engagement party. The Grand Regency Hotel’s ballroom is bathed in golden candlelight, the chandeliers glinting like stars above us. Laughter swirls through the air, blending with the gentle melodies from a live pianist. Champagne bubbles in crystal flutes, and the scent of fresh jasmine and roses lingers in the air.

It’s a picture-perfect night, almost too perfect, considering my life rarely plays by the rules of romance novels. I catch Grayson’s gaze from across the room, and my heart does that annoying fluttering thing it’s been doing ever since he put this ring on my finger. He excuses himself from a conversation and heads straight for me, wearing that signature smirk, the one that promises mischief.

“You’re staring, Evans.” His voice is low and teasing as he stops in front of me. “Miss me already?”

I arch a brow. “I was just wondering if it’s too soon to regret saying yes.”

He chuckles, sliding an arm around my waist. “Too late. You’re stuck with me now.”

I pretend to sigh, tapping my chin. “I don’t know. Maybe we should establish some ground rules. Like, for instance, no more bossing me around at work.”

His smirk deepens. “You mean no more helping you fix your terrible matchmaking instincts?”

I gasp. “Excuse me? My instincts are flawless!”

He leans closer, his breath warm near my ear. “Says the woman who once matched a tech CEO with a meditation influencer because ‘opposites attract.’”

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