Jasmine's POV
The air between us hung heavy, sharp with tension and rain.
Grayson Vale didn't move. He just stood there, calm and unreadable, his umbrella dripping on the doorstep like a metronome marking how long I have been silent.
"May I come in?" he asked finally.
My throat was dry. "If I say no, you'll still find a way in, won't you?"
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "You always did have your mother's instincts."
That one sentence burned. I stepped aside wordlessly and let him in.
He placed his umbrella neatly by the wall, brushed a droplet off his sleeve, and scanned my living room as if measuring the walls for hidden secrets. "You've grown into this place," he murmured. "Elegant. Controlled. Detached."
"Say what you came to say, Mr. Vale," I said tightly. "I'm done with riddles."
He turned toward me, eyes sharp as glass. "Then I'll be direct. You've been asking the wrong questions."
My pulse jumped. "I've heard that line before."
