Page 102 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

Her throat bobs. “Excuse me?”

He closes the space between them, his voice lower now. “Every time we get close to somethingreal, you bolt.”

She glares. “Oh, and you’resoemotionally available?”

He exhales, shaking his head. “I never pretended to be.”

Isabella swallows hard, but doesn’t move away.

He studies her for a long moment, then finally, finally, says what’s been sitting between them formonths.

“I don’t want to play anymore,” he murmurs.

She stills. “What?”

Cassian steps even closer, his voice softer, butmore dangerous. “I don’t want to pretend this is just a game. That it’s just about winning, or who breaks first.”

He tilts his head. “So tell me, Isabella.”

His fingers graze over her jaw, tilting her chin up.

“Are you ready to stop running?”

Silence stretches between them. Then shegrabs his collar and kisses him hard and furious. Likeeverythingbetween them has been waiting for this exact moment. Cassian makes a low sound in his throat, his hands gripping her waist as he pulls her flush against him. And just like that the game isover.

The End

MARGOT

Paris is beautiful this time of year. The kind of breathtaking that never gets old, no matter how many times I stand on this balcony, watching the city unfold beneath me like a dream. The Eiffel Tower glows in the distance, its golden lights shimmering in the dark, casting flickers of warmth across the cool midnight-blue sky. Below, the Seine glistens like liquid glass, catching every reflection and turning it into poetry. The breeze lifts the sheer curtains behind me, soft as a whisper, carrying with it the scent of fresh roses, warm bread, and something sweeter, something that feels like home.

I take a long, slow breath, letting the night settle into my bones. Everything feels softer now. Quieter. Like the world finally stopped spinning just long enough for me to catch my breath. For the first time in what feels like forever, there are no battles to fight. No boardroom betrayals. No deadlines or power plays. Just the hum of the city and the steady rhythm of a heart that isn’t mine, but beats for me anyway.

Grayson leans against the balcony railing beside me, his sleeves rolled up, the buttons of his shirt undone just enough to make my thoughts scatter. The moonlight glints off his watch,but it's his expression that holds me still, calm, content, the kind of peace that’s earned, not given. He looks at me with something more than affection, something that feels like forever.

“You’re staring,” he says, his voice low and amused, a smile tugging at his mouth.

I tilt my head, caught. “I was thinking.”

“Dangerous,” he teases, but his eyes are soft as he reaches for me. His fingers skim along my arm, a featherlight touch that sends goosebumps down my skin. Then they trail lower, wrapping gently around my wrist, his thumb brushing over my pulse.

“About what?” he murmurs.

I lean into him, letting my shoulder brush his chest, the familiar comfort of him settling around me like a favorite song. “Everything. How far we’ve come.”

He hums, a quiet sound of agreement, but there’s something in his eyes now, something more serious, more certain. “Regrets?” he asks.

I turn toward him fully, the Paris skyline fading behind him, replaced by the only view that matters. My heart swells at the look on his face, like I’m the answer to every question he never thought he’d ask. I shake my head, the words easy, true. “Not a single one.”

For a moment, he just looks at me. And then, without a word, he slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out a small velvet box. Time seems to still.

My breath catches as he opens it, revealing a ring. Not the one from before, the one tied to duty and a carefully negotiated partnership. This one is different. Elegant. Quiet. Honest. A promise, not a transaction. A symbol ofus.

Grayson holds my gaze, and when he speaks, his voice is low, reverent. “No more obstacles. No more threats. No more pretending.” He takes a step closer. “Just you and me, Evans.”

He pauses, emotion flickering across his features. “Marry me. For real this time.”

There’s no hesitation. No second-guessing. Just a deep, settled certainty rising in my chest like light.

---