Chapter 6 Such bad taste

Nina's heart raced as she quickly realized that Grace could never learn the truth. The thought of her sister exposing her secret to the world sent a wave of dread crashing over her. Grace, with her spiteful nature, would take any opportunity to humiliate her, and Nina couldn't bear the shame.

"Oh, well, I borrowed it from my classmates. I stained my clothes last night..." Nina's voice wavered slightly as she spoke, her eyes darting nervously to Grace's face, trying to gauge her reaction. She knew she was walking a fine line, and any misstep could unravel everything.

Grace's eyes narrowed, considering Nina's words. After a moment of silence, she seemed to reach a conclusion, her lips curling into a sly smile. Clearly, Nina had no idea who Lucien Gray really was. Grace's pulse quickened with excitement. This was her chance.

"Nina, this shirt is a little dirty. I'll take it and wash it for you," Grace offered, her tone unusually sweet.

Nina blinked, confused. Grace never did housework. Ever. Suspicion flickered in her mind as she watched her sister leave the room with the shirt clutched in her hands. *What is she up to?* she wondered, but soon shrugged it off, relieved to be rid of the man's shirt. She was going to throw it away anyway. It was a symbol of everything she wanted to forget.

The sleek glass façade of Gray's Company Building shimmered in the sunlight, its 27 stories towering over the bustling city below. Inside, the front hall exuded understated luxury, with elegant decor chosen to reflect the company's powerful reputation. It was said that Lucien Gray himself had designed the layout, each detail a testament to his impeccable taste.

Grace Lauren strutted through the lobby, her hips swaying with calculated precision. Her tight, deep V-neck dress hugged her curves, flaunting her figure. Today, she had chosen her most expensive outfit, confident it would catch every eye. She knew how to draw attention, and she reveled in it.

The young receptionist glanced at Grace with a knowing look, barely concealing her disdain. She had seen women like Grace before-many of them. *Another one of the president's so-called lovers,* she thought.

"Miss, how may I help you?" the receptionist asked, her tone professional but distant.

Grace, with a haughty tilt of her chin, replied, "I'm here to see Lucien Gray." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, her eyes flickering toward the male staff passing by, enjoying the way they looked at her.

"Do you have an appointment?" the receptionist inquired politely.

Grace rolled her eyes. "Do I need an appointment? Tell the president that the woman who spent the night with him is here." Her voice dripped with arrogance.

In his office on the top floor, Lucien Gray leaned back in his chair, listening to his secretary's voice over the phone. He had a full schedule of meetings today and wasn't in the mood to entertain some woman's nonsense. His brow furrowed in irritation, his finger hovering over the button to dismiss her.

But then, the secretary mentioned last night.

Lucien's lips curled into a wicked smile. *So she came after all,* he thought, amused. There had been something different about her, a certain rawness that set her apart from the usual women he entertained. If other women were rich French cuisine, she had been like a simple bowl of porridge-unexpectedly satisfying in its plainness. He was intrigued.

"Send her up," Lucien said, his tone light but commanding.

"President Gray!" Grace's voice was sickly sweet as she sauntered into his office.

Lucien lifted his head from his laptop, his eyes narrowing slightly as they took in the sight before him. The woman standing in his doorway was dressed in a tight, revealing dress, the neckline plunging so low it nearly reached her navel. Her eyes, heavily lined with makeup, gleamed at him with an overdone allure.

Lucien frowned, his mind racing. The woman from last night had been different-soft, innocent, unassuming. The garish woman in front of him didn't fit the image he had in his head. *What's going on?* he wondered. *Has she dressed like this to impress me? How wrong she is.*

His dark eyes locked onto Grace, his expression hard and unreadable. The tension in the room thickened as Grace began to feel the weight of his gaze. Her confidence faltered under his silence, and she shifted nervously, her seductive smile wavering.

Does he know? Does he see through her façade? Panic flickered in her chest, but she quickly masked it, pulling out the neatly folded white shirt from her bag. She stepped forward, her hips swaying as she approached his desk.

"Sir," she said, her voice laced with false sweetness, "I came to return your shirt." She pointed to the embroidered initials on the cuff-L.G.

Lucien's eyes flicked to the shirt, then back to Grace. He remained silent, his expression unreadable.

Grace took another step forward, wriggling her body as she did so, her voluptuous figure now mere inches from Lucien. She leaned in slightly, her breath catching as she tried to catch his attention with her proximity. But Lucien didn't move. His eyes, cold and calculating, bored into her as if seeing right through her pathetic attempt.

Grace's heart pounded in her chest. *Why isn't he reacting?* She began to second-guess her plan, the confidence she'd walked in with slowly crumbling under his unyielding stare.