ELENA

I had barely gotten any farther away from Luke, not even close to the door, when he suddenly grabbed my wrist from behind, whirling me around to face him.

I glared up at him, forcing myself to not wince from the pain of being held so tightly. Roughly. Viciously.

“What?” I snapped when he wouldn’t say anything, staring down at me with a mix of confusion and rage on his face.

Almost like he couldn’t figure out how I’d gotten so gutsy…

“So,” he started, his tone cold, “you’re gutsy enough to give me warnings now, huh?”

I shoved his wrist off, shrugging. “Well, you could say, ‘more self aware’.”

I scoffed as his pupils dilated in even more surprise, and I flipped my hair backwards. “Stay the fuck away from me, Luke.”

As I turned around again, he followed me still, out of the room and down the stairs, howling threats at me.

“Think you can come into my house and give me warnings?” He yelled, his voice straining with agitation. “I’ll fucking ruin you, Elena! Don’t you dare me!”

Completely ignoring him, I stormed towards the door that was held open by a grinning Sophia, and I paused at the entrance, turning to glare at her.

“What?” She demanded, cocking a brow. When I didn’t say a word, she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Cat’s got your tongue now, huh? Well, for your information, dear Elena, you’re not welcome here,” she swept her arm around the house in a wide gesture. “At all. So you better make sure you don’t show your face around here, again, else you’d be asking for trouble.” She snickered, squaring her shoulders. “I know you feel jealous, and you want your spot back already, but—“

I scoffed derisively when it seemed like she was yapping too much in my ears, shaking my head. “All I feel for you, is pity, Sophia.”

Ignoring the look of hurt and confusion that crossed her features, I whirled away from her and walked out the door, without a second glance at Luke, who had stood there with his gaze burning into my face all the while.

Burning with rage, I stormed to a stop just outside their gate, panting heavily.

I’d whipped out my phone to call a ride to Emily’s place, but on second thought, I didn’t think her borderline energy was anything I needed around me now.

Now, I had only one other place I could go to whenever I felt so overwhelmed.

I tapped a few numbers into the phone, and a few minutes later, a cab arrived at the gate.

I slid into the backseat and gave the cab driver the address, resting against the headrest and snapping my eyes shut in exhaustion.

“Can we stop by Molly’s on our way there?” I asked in a clear voice moments later, my eyes fluttering open to see the cab driver peeking at me through the rearview mirror. “I need to pick up some flowers.”

“Sure,” he replied, nodding. “It’s just going to attract a few extra dollars.”

“I’ll pay, let’s just..go.”

The ride was quiet and kind of soothing, as if the driver knew what kind of mood I was in, and put on some soft jazz that seeped into my nerves and lightened my mood a bit.

We stopped by Molly’s about ten minutes later, and I picked up a bouquet of white carnations. He’d always loved them, for some reason.

We were soon en route again, and shortly after, the car pulled to a stop just at the foot of a large grassy area that had a number of gravestones planted a stone-throw away from each other.

I got out and held out a few dollar notes to the cab driver, who thanked me with a nod and sped off a second later.

Inhaling deeply, I slowly turned around to face the yard, knots of longing and remembrance twisting deep in my chest.

I lifted my foot and took an unsteady step forward, my palms gripping the white carnations like they were going to disappear, and soon, I walked into the yard, past several other gravestones, my eyes fixed on just one a little mile ahead.

With each step I took, drawing me closer to him, my breath grew shorter, and the memories came flooding back.

Memories of him. Memories with him.

And with the memories, came a heavy rush of sadness, awakening the grief I’d long tried to bury.

I pulled to a stop in front of his grave, my legs quivering beneath me, my palms sweaty, my vision blurry with hot, stinging tears.

“Braden,” I whispered, the ache in my chest spreading further, to every other part of my body, and soon, I slid to the floor, weak with emotions.

And resting my head against his gravestone, I weeped long and hard, snot and all. Tears of pain and regret. Anger and confusion. Longing… Despair…

Tears I’d somehow managed to keep locked up in a steep well, waiting to combust like a bag of ions.

The white carnations were crushed in my palm all this while, and when I’d eventually cried to my heart’s content, I managed a clumsy attempt to smoothen the creases and laid it on the gravestone.

“Braden, baby,” I started in a voice hoarse with emotions, and lots of rain, “I’m sorry I haven’t visited all these while.”

I sat backwards, pulling my knees up to my chin. “It’s just…been a lot happening with me, since you know,” I shrugged, “since you left.”

Heaving a deep sigh, I reached forward and pulled the box I’d carried from Luke’s house close. Then I reached inside and pulled out a bottle of gin I’d kept hidden away in my room back then, and two glasses.

“It’s just been a lot,” I continued, pouring the gin into the glasses and clinking them together, “and somehow, my visits trailed to a patter, and I stopped showing up entirely.”

I twisted my lips in a small, sad smile, then lifted the glass to them, taking a sip.

“Don’t get me wrong, Braden,” I continued in a soft voice, the voices of guilt inside my head ringing out as his, “I’m not trying to make excuses for not coming to visit you for a long time. I’m just here to say I’m sorry.”

Sighing, I stared down into the glass, past the clear-as-day content, the knot in my chest twisting around harder.

“You know,” I continued, twirling the glass in my fingers, “I’ve been doing lots of thinking lately.”

“About how you’d come into my life like a knight in shining armor,” I chuckled softly, shaking my head, “when it was all bleak and lonely, a typical orphan’s world. And then you’d added so much color, Braden,” I added in a whisper. “So much that I thought that I’d finally stumbled onto some real blessing.”

I chuckled again, the gin suddenly too bitter in my mouth. “But it turns out life had some other plans for me.” My eyes slid down to his name engraved in bold letters, running the tips of my fingers across them in a soft caress. “For us.”

“And I discovered finding you might not be a blessing after all, but a curse,” I added, my voice breaking, and

sniffing, I reached up to wipe at the drop of tear that had slipped down my cheek.

“I miss you, Braden,” I continued in the smallest, withered voice, and just then, in the midst of my sorrow, I heard the faint scrunching of footsteps behind me.

Startled, my heart skipping a few beats, I whirled around to see a man standing there, his tall frame blocking the sunlight, so I couldn’t see his face.

But when he eventually stepped a little to the side, the sun hitting his face slightly, my jaw hung open in a silent gasp.

ELENA

“What the fuck you doing here?” I demanded, my voice sharp as steel.

Atlas paused a few steps away from where I sat, staring down at me with a blank expression.

I bolted to my feet moments later, enraged. “Are you stalking me now?” I queried, my tone growing harsher. “Is that it?!”

That would explain why he was here, in this graveyard, right? Could he be here because of Braden?

No… how would that happen?

Why did he keep popping up everywhere I went, in my head and all?

The expression on his face shifted to a slightly puzzled look, and I blew out a blast of air in annoyance, pushing my fingers through my hair.

“Look, Atlas,” I started in a pissed tone, glaring at him, “I’ve had enough of you and your bullshit today, trust me. You and every other fucking Grant. So I believe it would be best if you just stayed away from me, huh?”

Without waiting for a response, I tumbled the rest of the wine in my mouth, and crouched down to snatch up the box I’d come with.

“Excuse me,” I bumped into his shoulder as I tried to get past him, and just then, I felt his long fingers wrap around my wrist gently, pulling me to a stop.

“Wait.” It came out a gruff command, stilling me right to the spot, and sending thrills racing through my heart and body.

Just a simple command—no, word.

Wait…was he commanding me?

Did he think he could order me around just because we signed a contract together?

Ha! He’ll be in for some surprise.

But why was a simple touch from him stealing my breath away? Why was it bringing back a flurry of memories of a night I’d rather not think back on? Why did it remind me of the things I felt, maybe a little too deeply than I was willing to admit, at a certain time?

Why was he even touching me in the first place?

I struggled to pull my wrist free, but my efforts were in vain, as he tugged me forward like I was a skinny bag of chips.

“Come here,” he said in a deep, sober tone, pulling me up close, against his chest, and I found not a single bone in my body willing to fight off this man. Nor was any willing to fight off the urge to know what it feels like being in his arms, again.

I needed to take some time to really think about all of this… these reactions, and actions.

They were confusing me. Distracting.

When Atlas was sure I was close enough, he reached up and scraped his thumb gently across my tear-stained cheeks.

I fought back the tears that threatened to spill at the first crack of compassion that was being shown me since Braden left, pressing my lips together.

He even knew all the right things to do…

Right things? Whatever the hell is wrong with you, Elena Carlson?

“You really loved him, didn’t you?” He mumbled quietly, his voice penetrating my thoughts, and I looked up at him, through the tears.

“Of course, I did,” I shot back. “What do you think? He was my husband.”

He looked at me then in a way I couldn’t read, his eyes penetrating the depths of my soul, then he released me from his grasp, taking a few steps back from me.

What was that?

“I can understand your grief, though,” he continued, slowly turning to face Braden’s grave. “Braden was a good man.”

A sad aura hung around him as he stood there with his hands jammed into his pockets, staring down at the gravestone, lost in the dark for a moment.

And it tugged at my heart, strangely. Seeing him like that.

“You know,” he turned to me moments later, “he was the only one amongst the Grants that accepted me, despite the fact I’m an illegitimate son.”

Oh, fuck me.

I’d completely forgotten Atlas and Braden were brothers, and Atlas had every right to be here.

I suddenly felt bad, my fingers curling in my fist. “I’m sorry,” I muttered under my breath, loud enough to be heard. “It kinda slipped my mind that you were brothers.” I let out a heavy sigh, lifting my fingers to my forehead.

“I’m terribly sorry I snapped at you,” I continued. “I’ve just had a rough day, and would like to be left alone.”

“You don’t have to apologize, actually,” he replied, his eyes sparkling, “because you’re not wrong. I was indeed stalking you.”

He paused, watching me with cocked brows as I tried to process through the numerous reasons whirling around in my head, why he would stalk me.

“And what were you thinking, going to Luke’s house,” he asked moments later, “after we signed a deal together? Don’t you think that’d be going against the rules too?”

My remorse for him quickly morphed back to anger, and I lashed out at him without even stopping to think about it.

“You’re fucking unbelievable, you know that, right?” I bit out, glaring up at him, my fingers biting into the box. “Why the hell would you follow me everywhere, and without my consent?!”

“I mean,” he lifted his shoulders in a careless shrug, “you left so abruptly, in the middle of our meeting, and I needed to know that you were not trying to mess things up. Or if I could trust you.”

I let out a derisive scoff, shaking my head, as I glared up maliciously at him.

“So delusional,” I tutted, making sure I wore the disgust I felt on my face. “You’re the one with a ruined family name, Atlas fucking Grant. Not me. So if anyone should do the stalking, that would be me. To know if I can fucking trust you!”

“You can stalk me, you know,” he returned, his gaze turning dark and heavy. “But what you’ll find might leave you traumatized.”

I impulsively took a step back as there was a sudden dark, intense, overwhelming aura around him, trying to rope me in.

Who the hell are you, Atlas Grant?