Chapter 15
Grace swirled the amber liquid in her glass. The ice clinked
softly against the sides before she took a slow sip of her cognac,
savoring the burn as it slid down her throat.
With a sigh, she set the glass down on the table beside her and
turned her gaze toward the figure seated on the floor. Marco,
with his usual relaxed posture, leaned against the couch, one
knee up, his arms lazily draped over it. His dark eyes flickered
toward her, waiting.
“How much do you know about my cousin?” Grace asked, her
voice smooth but carrying an edge of amusement.
Marco exhaled through his nose, tilting his head as if
considering the question. “I know that he’s unpredictable,” he
said, his tone as flat as ever. “And by the sound of his voice, he’s
like an unstable balloon.”
Grace barked out a laugh, nearly spilling her drink. “A fucking
balloon? That’s how you describe him?”
Marco merely shrugged. “One wrong move and–pop.”
Grace shook her head, still chuckling. “Seriously, though… you.”
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She lifted a hand and lazily flicked Marco’s ear, making him
grunt. “If you ever act like my shit cousin, I’ll hunt you down.
That’s for sure.”
Marco raised a brow, unimpressed.
Grace smirked and leaned down, resting her weight onto his
back. She draped her arms over his shoulders like a cat lounging
on its perch, her breath ghosting near his ear. “I’m not like
Noelle,” she murmured, lips curving. “I don’t let my man cheat
on me. One must face the consequences of his own making.”
Marco’s fingers twitched slightly, but his face remained neutral.
“You’re heavy!”
Grace immediately stiffened, her jaw dropping.
“Excuse me?!”
Marco, as calm as ever, turned his head slightly. “You’re heavy,”
he repeated, deadpan. “I don’t lie.”
Grace gasped in exaggerated offense and lightly smacked the
back of his head. “Unbelievable! Are you saying I gained
weight?!”
Marco simply closed his eyes, sighing. “I’m saying you should get
off me before I suffocate.”
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Grace huffed but didn’t move, her arms still wrapped around his
neck as she pressed her cheek against his head with a
triumphant grin. “Nope. This is your punishment.”
Marco muttered something under his breath–probably a curse
-but made no move to push her away.
Grace smirked. He never did.
“Just tell me you miss me,” she whispered, her voice teasing but
carrying something heavier beneath the surface.
Marco rolled his eyes, exhaling sharply. “I was raised by your
father to protect you, not to flirt with you.”
Grace’s smirk faltered for half a second, but she masked it
before he could see.
“That damn old man,” she muttered, leaning back. “I can love
whoever I want and marry whoever I want.”
Marco groaned and finally pushed himself up from the floor,
stretching his stiff limbs with an air of irritation. “You’re the
only woman I know with a mouth worse than mine. Hell,
you’re rougher than half the men in this damn house.” He cast
her a sideways glance, eyes sharp. “Maybe learn some manners,
and I’ll call you the title you deserve.”
Chapter 15
Grace narrowed her eyes at him, something unreadable
flickering in her expression. She knew she had a sharp tongue.
She knew she wasn’t soft or delicate. She grew up in an all–male
household, trained alongside them, commanded respect in a
world that never made space for her. And because of that, no
boy ever looked at her the way they did at the women in silk
dresses with their sweet smiles and pretty words.
But none of that mattered.
Because since the day Marco stepped into this house, she had set
her sights on him.
Love at first sight. That’s what they called it.
But Marco? He was a stubborn bastard. Bound by duty, by an
outdated sense of loyalty, refusing to see what was right in
front of him. Her father wasn’t even forcing those old mafia,
traditions. Marco was the one clinging to them like a lifeline.
Grace exhaled slowly, pushing down the frustration that had
been building for years. Instead, she softened her tone, flashing
a sweet smile. “Alright then,” she said lightly. “Let’s have dinner.”
Marco shot her a look, his brow twitching. “A lady doesn’t invite
a man. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”
Grace snapped. “Ah, damn it! Come with me!”
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Before he could argue, she grabbed his arm, slipping her fingers
around his wrist and dragging him out of the room. Her grip on
Marco’s wrist was firm as she dragged him toward the door. But
just as she reached for the handle, Marco suddenly stopped
moving. His weight anchored her in place, forcing her to turn
back with a glare.
“What now?” she huffed.
Marco stared at her coldly. Then, with a slow exhale, he pried
her fingers off his wrist. Not harshly, not aggressively but with
enough force to make it clear.
“Grace,” he said, his voice quieter than usual. “This… whatever
you’re trying to do… it’s never going to happen.”
For the first time in years, Grace had nothing to say.
But Marco continued, his gaze steady, unwavering. “You’re my
boss’s daughter. I was raised to protect you, not to be with you.
That’s the way it is, and that’s the way it’ll always be.”
His words sliced through her like a blade, but she refused to let
it show.
Instead, she let out a small, breathy laugh and tilted her head. “Wow. You sound so sure of yourself!” Her voice was light, teasing, like always. But the sharp glint in her eyes had dulled,
Chapter 15
just a little.
Marco said nothing.
Grace met his gaze for another moment, as if searching for
something, but all she found was a wall he refused to let down.
And that–more than his words–was what made her chest
tighten.
Fine. If that’s how he wanted to play it.
She took a step back, stuffing her hands into her pockets as if
she wasn’t just holding onto him seconds ago. “Alright, alright.
No need to be so dramatic,” she said casually, flashing him an
easy grin. “Forget dinner. Let’s just grab lunch tomorrow.”
Marco blinked, thrown off by her sudden shift. “What?”
“Lunch,” she repeated. “No strings, no flirting, no ‘whatever the
hell you think I’m trying to do! Just food. You eat, right?”
Marco studied her, as if waiting for a punchline. When none
came, he sighed and rubbed his temple. “You’re exhausting.”
Grace smirked. “And you’re an ass. So? Lunch or not?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second before muttering, “Fine.”
Grace clapped her hands together. “Great! It’s a date!”
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Marco groaned. “It’s not a-”
“See you tomorrow, Marco,” she cut in, already heading for the
door.
She didn’t look back as she left the room. She didn’t let him see.
the way her fingers clenched slightly in her pockets or the tears
that were threatening to fall.
It was fine.
She’d play his game.
For now.
