Chapter 6 - THE MIDNIGHT ENCOUNTERThe rain returned to Manhattan by Friday night, slicking the asphalt and casting neon reflections across the hood of Grayson’s black Maybach.
He hadn’t gone home to his penthouse in three days. Instead, his car sat idling half a block away from Amelia’s brownstone in Brooklyn. He watched the second-floor window where a warm, yellow light flickered through the lace curtains.
He could see her silhouette moving back and forth, rocking a tiny bundle in her arms.
Every instinct screamed at him to storm the door, to wave his court orders, to demand what was legally his. But the memory of her face at the wedding—the raw, broken exhaustion in her eyes—kept his hand frozen on the door handle.
“You think you’re ruthless, Grayson? Try fighting a mother protecting her cub.”
The car door clicked open before he could stop himself.
He stepped out into the pouring rain, ignoring the water soaking through his custom suit, and crossed the empty street. He didn't knock on the front door. Instead, he stood quietly beneath the flickering streetlamp outside her ground-floor window, staring upward.
A minute later, the window slid open an inch.
Amelia was standing there, looking down at him through the glass. Her face was pale, shadowed by exhaustion, but her eyes burned with an icy fury.
"Are you out of your mind?" she whispered harshly, keeping her voice low so as not to wake the baby. "What are you doing here, Grayson? Waiting to serve me another paper?"
"The court papers were standard procedure," Grayson called up, his voice rough, rain dripping from his dark hair down his jawline. "Victoria insisted. I didn't want it to go this way, Amelia."
"Then call off your lawyers!" she hissed back, gripping the window frame so hard her knuckles turned white. "You think this is just a game of chess for you? You're playing right into Jonathan Vance’s hands! He’s backing your legal team behind the scenes to trigger a default clause in your corporate charter and seize your company!"
Grayson went completely still. The rain seemed to stop around him.
"How do you know about Jonathan?" Grayson asked, his eyes narrowing.
"Marcus told me," she snapped. "Your best friend is the only person trying to keep you from destroying your entire life out of some misguided obsession with control!"
"It’s not an obsession!" Grayson stepped closer to the brick wall, looking up with a desperation that shattered his billionaire facade entirely. "It’s my daughter, Amelia! You hid her from me for nearly a year! Do you have any idea what it’s like to realize you missed her first steps? Her first word? Every night I look at my empty apartment and I feel like I'm choking on glass!"
Amelia’s breath hitched. For a second, the fierce armor slipped, and the woman who used to fall asleep against his chest reappeared.
"I was terrified, Grayson," she whispered, her voice breaking into a fragile sob. "When I walked out of that penthouse, I had nothing left of us except her. I was scared that if you knew she existed, you’d view her as another contract to manage, another asset to buy off with trust funds. I wanted her to be mine."
"She’s ours," Grayson said fiercely, stepping right beneath the window. "And I swear to God, Amelia... I will burn Jonathan Vance to ash before I let anyone use my daughter as a weapon against me. But I need you to trust me. Just for five minutes. Let me in."
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Amelia stared down at him, the rain washing away the tears on her cheeks, weighing the most dangerous gamble of her life.
Hook: She cracks the window and reaches out her hand—just as the flash of a camera explodes from the alley across the street, capturing every second.
