GRAYSON'S POV

I leaned back in my leather chair, gazing out the office window at the bustling cityscape below. The phone felt heavy in my hand, my eyes glued to its screen. My men conducted business in the background, their voices a distant hum as I focused intently on the live feed from my new wife. Florence handed her the phone, and I watched as she clutched it, rushing to the bedroom.

This moment was carefully orchestrated; I knew exactly what she would do once she had her phone back. As she unlocked it, a glimmer of hope lit up her eyes. She went straight to her contacts, pausing with...