Chapter 2 Take It Off

The winter air bit down mercilessly.

Inside the luxury car, Elena's chest still carried a hollow chill the heater couldn't touch.

An uneasy stir coiled through her.

But on second thought, she doubted Greyson could do serious harm since he was dying in less than three months.

Drawing in courage, Elena tapped out a message to Mina, urging her to not worry.

The ride ended at the city's grandest club.

The driver opened the door with a respectful gesture, though his attitude lacked any real respect.

Elena stepped out of the car, the man leading the way.

Down a glittering corridor they went, the lights bouncing off every polished surface, until they stopped before a set of ornate double doors. The man pushed them open and said, "Mr. Wilson, she's here."

He gestured her forward without another word.

Elena knew there was no turning back.

Gathering her resolve, she walked in.

The doors shut with a soft but final thud behind her.

A suffocating tension filled the room, making her own heartbeat sound far too loud.

Her eyes searched the room until they caught sight of someone on the sofa.

He sat with one leg thrown over the other, sunk deep into the leather cushions, his face indistinct from afar.

Smoke curled through the dimness, and the faint ember of a cigarette glowed red against the shadows.

Elena steadied herself with a breath and stepped closer to bring his face into view.

Compared to the photos, the man appeared more refined, better looking.

In reality, he carried an elegance the pictures never captured, though his skin looked paler than expected.

The black shirt he wore lay slightly unbuttoned, exposing a long throat and sharply defined collarbones that pulled her gaze.

The pallor of his skin only sharpened the fine lines of his features, giving him an almost fragile allure.

Surprisingly, he carried an energy that clashed with the image of a man on the brink of death.

His striking looks alone were enough to make countless women dream of carrying his children.

When Elena drew closer, her attention landed on the marriage certificate resting in his hand.

That must have been the same document his mother had whisked away.

It made sense-after all, no mother would leave something that important out of her son's sight.

Any hope she'd kept of dodging this moment vanished as reality settled in.

Greyson's stare pinned her in place. "Let's be honest. You did this for the money, right?"

To him, any woman willing to wed him in his condition had to be chasing wealth.

Elena knew there was no running from it. Something dangerous in his tone convinced her that she shouldn't admit it.

If she was already caught, she might as well lean into the game. With a slow, playful smile, she said, "What if I told you I've admired you for a long time, and marrying you was always my intention?"

Greyson's fingers tightened on the cigarette.

Some women might say such things. But not now-not when the clock was ticking.

He read Elena's false charm instantly, saw through the hollow words.

Snuffing the cigarette out in the ashtray, he gestured for her to step closer.

Nerves tightening in her throat, Elena obeyed and edged closer.

In a flash, Greyson dropped his foot to the floor, straightened up, and reached out, pulling her onto his lap before she could react.

The move startled her, and she tumbled against him before he pushed her upright again.

His hand clamped firmly around her waist.

Even through the layers of her clothes, the heat of his touch burned through.

Before she could find her footing, his finger tipped her chin up, his gaze dark and sharp. "Admire me, is that it?"

Though her heart pounded wildly, Elena forced herself to hold steady. She met his stare with defiance and replied, "I'd say nearly every woman in the city holds you in admiration."

A low, cold chuckle rumbled from his chest. "And you're not afraid of dying?"

"I am."

Greyson arched one brow.

Elena continued, "Everyone dies eventually. If I go out as your wife, that's more than enough for me."

Inwardly, he dismissed it as empty words.

With a sharp motion, he shoved her off his lap and even brushed at his trousers where she had touched him, disgust plain in the gesture.

"We're getting divorced," he said simply.

Steadying herself, Elena glanced at the discarded marriage certificate and said evenly, "A divorce takes time to process."

Greyson shot her a look. "Do you really think I need to wait around?"

She pressed her lips together, saying nothing. Given his influence, he wouldn't need to wait.

Greyson rose to his full height, shoulders squared, every movement calculated. He walked past her, making the air feel heavier to her.

One cold glance cut through her, smothering whatever admiration she might have felt moments before.

"I won't agree to a divorce," she said.

Greyson halted, his features hardening.

"I'm serious," Elena said, looking at him.

Suspicion gleamed in Greyson's gaze.

"I've thought this through," Elena said firmly, her voice laced with conviction. "It might sound foolish, but being your wife gives me a real reason to stand by you-to take care of you and give you a family. Even if your days are numbered, I'd rather be with you than live with regret. Maybe I'm selfish, but I'll do whatever it takes to stay."

Emotion laced her words, and a shimmer of tears gathered in her eyes.

A strange sense of pride stirred within her at how easily she could summon such convincing emotion.

Greyson closed the gap between them, his tone sharp as a blade. "Anything, you say?"

The nearness pressed heavily on her, yet Elena kept her head high and answered with conviction, "Of course."

Greyson's lips curled slightly.

That subtle smile made Elena's skin prickle with unease.

Greyson settled onto the sofa again, his knees angled apart.

"Get on your knees," he demanded.

Elena blinked, wondering if she heard him wrong.

The way his eyes locked on her, cold and unyielding, told her she hadn't.

"Even this is too much for you?" Greyson's voice dripped with contempt.

Mina's warning about his twisted ways finally made sense to Elena.

With his contempt plain in his eyes, she frowned. Tossing her coat across the sofa, she tied her hair and climbed onto his lap, knees framing his hips.

"Does this work for you?"

In this position, she was slightly taller than him. Looking down, she saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes.

The tight black sweater traced every curve, while her jeans outlined her figure. Her straight posture showed both power and elegance.

The closeness left them breathing the same air.

It felt as though one more movement would tip them into something dangerous and passionate.

He had to admit-Elena was breathtaking.

A playful glint lit her eyes, and the faint smile on her lips teased him further.

Greyson leaned back with his arms stretched across the sofa, his gaze deep and drawn into that tempting smile.

"Take it off," he said, his voice low and sharp.

Elena maintained her composure as her hand drifted toward his chest.

Her fingers traced the black buttons, standing out stark against the fabric.

Slowly, she worked each one loose, exposing pale skin with every movement.

First button slipped free.

Then the next.

Each undone button exposed more of him.

Elena's breath caught as she fought to keep her earlier brightness from slipping away.

When her eyes lifted, Greyson's stare was flat and detached. He looked every bit like a ruler lounging on his throne, and she felt reduced to a toy he picked up out of boredom.

Determined not to falter, she kept going until her fingers brushed the hard plane of his abdomen. His hand snapped around hers, firm and unyielding.

The sudden grip made her heart stumble as she stared up into his unyielding gaze.

"If you're this slow, how long will it take for us to have a kid?" His voice carried a note of irritation.

Elena's breathing faltered. Running wasn't an option she would take.

A faint smile forced its way onto her lips. "You shouldn't hurry something like that. Everyone knows the children born of passion grow up stronger and brighter."

"Is that what you believe?" Greyson narrowed his eyes.

"It's true." Elena lifted her other hand, daring to touch the warmth of his skin.

Greyson grabbed that hand too, his grasp firm. "Opening my shirt isn't enough to please me."