Tessa paced the living room of the mansion, her nails digging into the roof of her mouth as Roman’s image replayed on a steady loop.

The shock on his face when the bullet hit him.

The way his eyes went blank.

The blood—everywhere.

A knock at the door jolted her back into the present.

She sucked in a sharp breath, smoothed down her dress, and ran shaky fingers through her damp hair—only half-dried from the shower.

Then she crossed the room in quick strides and yanked the door open.

Grayson stood there.

Dark grey joggers hung low on his hips, a black T-shirt clinging to his chest, the top buttons...