Page 31 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

Margot’s breath shudders beside me, but when I turn to her, she’s already shaking her head. "It’s really over."

I exhale, then pull her into me, my arms tightening around her. "Yeah. It is." She doesn’t pull away. Neither do I. And then,because the universe refuses to give us a moment of peace, both of our phones start ringing at the same time.

Margot groans, pulling back just enough to glance at the caller ID. "Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me."

I sigh, already knowing. "Elliot?"

"Nope. His date."

I check my own screen. "Elliot."

We stare at each other for a beat before Margot sighs. Then, unexpectedly, a laugh bubbles out of her short, sharp, almost disbelieving. I blink at her, surprised, but then I feel it too, the ridiculousness of it all catching up to me. Before I know it, I’m laughing too, deep and unrestrained. Margot doubles over, shaking her head between fits of laughter. "We just took down my psychotic ex, and now we’re playing emotional support for two people who don’t understand texting." I lean against the car, wiping a hand over my face, still chuckling.

"Honestly? This is somehow more exhausting."

She gasps for breath, clutching her stomach. "We nearly got run over, Grayson! And now I have to explain punctuation psychology to a grown woman.

I shake my head, grinning. "And I have to talk Elliot down from a full-blown existential crisis over asmiley face."

Our laughter fades into something softer, a release of everything we’ve been holding in. The adrenaline, the fear, the weight of the past few days, all of it dissipates in the absurdity of this moment. Margot exhales, looking up at me, a small smile still playing at her lips. "I needed that."

I nod, feeling the warmth of the moment settle between us. "Yeah. Me too." "This is our life now."

Shaking my head, I press answer at the same time she does.

"Grayson," Elliot starts immediately, his voice full of sheer panic. "I need a ruling on something, hypothetically speaking, ifsomeone were to text 'Had a great time' with asmiley face, does that indicate genuine enthusiasm or just polite courtesy?"

On Margot’s end, her date is talking a mile a minute.

I rub my temples, muttering under my breath. "This is what I get for helping people."

Margot smirks, nudging me with her elbow. "Look at it this way, King, we may have won against Liam, but these two? This might be our toughest challenge yet."

24

MARGOT

Grayson leans back on the couch beside me, his arm brushing mine, casual and warm. The late afternoon light spills across his jawline, catching on the faint stubble he didn’t bother shaving this morning. He looks so good it’s almost unfair tousled blonde hair, easy smile, those absurdly blue eyes that still undo me a little more than I care to admit. I can’t help the way my mind flickers back to that night. The way his hands had slid under my shirt, rough and sure. The heat of his mouth on my neck, my collarbone. The breathless way he said my name when I pulled him closer. It had been reckless, and messy, and completely out of character, for both of us. And I want it again. But then the want is chased by something sharper.

A flicker of panic. What did it mean? We’d been in the middle of emotional chaos, caught up in the mess with Liam, the pressure of the company, the storm of grief and guilt and history. Was it just comfort? A way to escape, for one night, from the weight of everything else pressing down on us? Or did it mean something more? Because if itdid, then everything changes. We’re not just business rivals anymore. Not just two people forced to share a legacy, pretending to coexist for the sakeof appearances. That night broke something. Or maybe it built something new. I just don’t know which.

I shift slightly, just enough for my leg to press against his. He glances at me, and for a second, it feels like we’re right there again, teetering on the edge of something dangerously good. But my heart is thudding in my chest now, not from desire, but uncertainty. I don’t know if I’m falling for him. I don’t know if I already have. And I have no idea what happens if I have to face him tomorrow in the boardroom and pretend like none of this ever happened.

Then my phone buzzes. I glance at the screen, expecting some harmless notification. I stare at the email. I read it once. Then again. My fingers tighten around my phone, my stomach twisting into knots.

Grayson’s expression darkens beside me. "Who the hell is this?"

I swallow hard. "It could just be someone trying to mess with me. Maybe Liam trying to scare me on his way out."

Grayson doesn’t look convinced. "Or maybe it’s someone else entirely."

My pulse kicks up. "We need to trace the email. See if it’s really from him or…" Before I can finish my sentence, my phone pings again. Another email.

My breath catches as I read it:Did you really think it would be that easy? I always have a backup plan. I go cold. Grayson snatches the phone from my hands and glares at the screen. "That son of a…"

My stomach is twisting into knots. "What does he mean, backup plan?"

Grayson is already grabbing his phone, his voice clipped as he speaks. "We’re not waiting to find out. I’m calling my contact. We’re tracing this now."

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