Page 33 of Colton

“Don’t be ridiculous. You don’t have any connections to the FBI,” I scoff, then pause, looking at her with skepticism. “Do you?”

“I do. My brother-in-law works for the FBI,” she shrugs.

“I’m shocked.”

“That I have a brother-in-law?” Grace asks, raising a questioning brow.

“No, by the fact that you have a family member willing to talk to you.”

She throws the pillow at me, and a string of curses follow. I laugh, catching the pillow since I saw this one coming from a mile away. Then, I kick my shoes off, and lay down onto the bed next to her.

“So, where have you been today?”

Grace rolls over to her side, propping herself on her elbow, her palm resting against her cheek. Her expression is blank, and there’s something in her eyes that’s telling me none of what she had planned went according to said plans.

“Let’s make a deal. I tell you where I was, you tell me where you were.”

I nod immediately. “Deal. You first.”

Grace takes a deep breath, then she starts talking. Not once does she look away from me, and I’m struggling not to show the emotions on my face, because boy, am I feeling a lot right now. From pure shock, and confusion, to slight disgust that’s mainly directed toward her family.

“Wait, wait, hold on,” I sit up straight. “What year are we living in? Seriously? Arranged marriages?”

She groans, rubbing her face. “I hate this stupid thing.”

“I mean… you could always say no,” I offer, though I know it’s not as simple as that.

“I wish I could,” she sighs. “But that would mean losing access to everything, and right now, I’m not ready for that. I can’t survive in the wilderness all by myself, without the financial support of my parents.”

I want to tell her just how wrong that way of thinking is, and that will have to separate herself from the wealth her parents have created sooner or later. However, now’s not the time. This kind of lifestyle is everything she’s ever known, and I can understand her not being ready to let go of it.

“It doesn’t explain why we came here,” I say.

“Oh!” She chuckles. “One of the people my fiance absolutely despises lives here. So I came to hook up with him.”

I blink. “And, did you?”

“Nah, not my type,” she shrugs. “Your turn. Talk.”

“No, no, no,” I grin. “You haven’t told me who the unlucky fella is.”

Grace sits up, looking directly into my eyes. She takes a deep breath, then takes my hands in hers. One would think she’s about to tell me some govermental secret that I should never know about, and not that she’s marrying some guy.

“You can’t react to it.”

I nod. “Promise.”

“It’s Kenzo.”

Silence.

Crickets.

My brain struggles to comprehend the name that just came out of her mouth. Though, my expression is telling a whole other story. My brows are furrowed together, and I’m pretty sure there is nothing short of aversion.

“You promised you wouldn’t react.”

“I’m not,” I defend, my voice slightly squeaky.