Page 121 of Salvaged Hearts

She snorted indelicately and then, with a giggle, said, “Love all of you. You be safe now, okay?”

A round of agreement and prolonged farewells followed before we disconnected the call. I watched as Greyson processed our conversation, his breathing disciplined and steady as he walked over to the open window to stare out at the estate.Broad shoulders rose and fell incrementally as he did his best impression of a Greek statue. Slowly, not wanting to disturb his focus, I followed. Our landscapers were busy primping the hedgerow and mowing the grass while groceries were delivered to our iconically grumpy chef. You’d never know a storm was brewing inside these magnificent walls or that two lives had ended in the backyard just over a week ago.

I still couldn’t get myself to go out back and noted Greyson had also abandoned his favorite routines on the terrace.

The low-hanging overcast sky turned that disconcerting reality a bit softer, the air slightly less suffocatingly arid, and Grey’s eyes a bit more green than hazel. I found them mesmerizing, even in their frustrated furrow as he churned over all the information we’d gathered. We’d combed endlessly through the data Max and Luke had presented over the last few days.So many names. Connections. So many wrongs in this world, just begging to be righted.

Still more unanswered questions.

“How are you not overwhelmed right now?” I asked softly.

“What makes you think I’m not?” he countered, a gentle slant to his mouth.

“You’ve got this whole Zen master thing about you. I’ve always respected the way you keep your composure.” A solitary brow arched skeptically. “Okay,” I amended, “notalways. Your control used to drive me bananas.”

“Bananas?” he questioned dryly.

“That is the official terminology,” I declared, nodding solemnly.

“It did earn me a rather unflattering assortment of nicknames.”

Scoffing, I said, “That was probably the result of your inability to call me a good girl for working so hard for you.”

“Affirmations belong in the bedroom.”

“I mean,” I shrugged, a smirk competing with a flush to dominate my face. “You don’t hear me complaining.”

“But I am,” Max grumbled from where he still sat micro-napping like an angry, oversized cat in the corner. “You two are nauseating.”

“Thank you,” Grey gloated without missing a beat, shifting to scoop me into his arms. A breath after his lips brushed mine, the study door burst open.

Whirling, we came face to face with a fuming Reggie, Preston on his heels. Max slowly straightened in my peripheral.

The poor kid was rambling, his words squished together. “I’m so sorry, sir,I-couldn’t-stop-him. Security waved him in. Says he has pertinent information regarding?—”

Greyson’s gently raised hand silenced him, his blond hair flopping as he bent over to catch his breath. The ire of Emerald Bay’s titan turned on Reggie. I didn’t miss the way he subtly positioned his body between mine and his uncle’s. “Preston, send security in to speak with me.” Our nineteen-year-old assistant nodded once before sprinting off like he was on a mission. “I do believe I’ve made my sentiments about your presence in our life perfectly clear, but if you can’t comprehend the boundary lines, I’ll dumb it down for you.”

“Hear me out,” Reggie growled, the sound of his voice like nails on a chalkboard. We hadn’t found anything damning. No way to prove he was associated with the monsters in our city, aside from the timing of that conversation and his presence in that hallway.

Nonplussed, Greyson motioned to the chair across the desk, but when Reggie sat, Greyson simply loomed over the desk, staring down his nose at him with all the concern you’d show a slug. Wordlessly, Max rose to take his place, standing between me and them, with just enough room to watch around his slender shoulder.

“I have?—”

“My house,” Greyson spoke over him, leaning forward to brace himself on the desk. “You’re chairman of nothing here. My rules of engagement were made clear.”

What in the hell was he talking about? Perplexed, an ache formed between my brows as I glanced from Greyson’s shoulder to Reggie’s impassive face. Only the reddening of his skin revealed his anger. With a huff, the old man wet his lips before turning to me.

“I apologize for my words before the wedding.” Evidently, that didn’t meet the requirements because Greyson cleared his throat, and Reggie’s eyes flicked to him before returning to my face. I would not squirm. I did, however, accept Max’s strength when he gave my fingers a little squeeze by our sides. “I’m sorry I disrespected your place in my nephew’s life as a future Mrs. Hart. I should have silenced my judgments. Which, as it turns out, were misguided.” Greyson’s huff of annoyance was the only approval he’d grant. As an afterthought, he added, “I’m sorry someone is trying to hurt you to get to my nephew.” Returning his focus to said nephew, Reggie leaned forward to brace his forearms on the desk as he clasped his hands. “You have a hole in your security, son.”

“Not your son,” Greyson stated flatly, mask and tone impervious. It was the one and only time I saw a flicker of emotion in Reggie’s eyes. But the declaration was redundant. Of course, there was a hole. Our head of security, Mike, had been working around the clock to figure out where it came from. Albeit, I certainly hadn’t expected an ounce of concern from the man we suspected fed them the information in the first place. He was either a proficient performer, or we were missing a piece.

“What happened to Alessandra last week should be an impossibility,” Reggie stated equally robotically. “I tried to warn you. Tried to tell you not to trust your circle.” His measuredwords sent irritation boiling in my veins.What had I missed? “It’s an affront to our very name.”

Ope. There it was.His old faithful—theirreputation. That made much more sense. Now, I did smirk. At least the muddy colors of his values were consistent. But I was still curious as to what conversation the two reigning Harts shared that I was clearly not privy to.

“I’m deeply moved by your level of concern.”

I nearly snorted hearing those words drip from Greyson’s lips in a perfectly practiced monotone. Forcing myself to poker up, I watched the exchange with the care of an irritated cat. One does not marry the Titan and not learn to stand like his queen.

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