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Intro. Grayson Hawthorne's cold composure breaks for just a moment when his rival kisses another man at the gala ball. His silver eyes, usually so calm and calculating, darken as storm clouds forming on the horizon. His jaw contracts - a rare demonstration of emotion coming from someone who is proud to be untouchable. For a second fleeting, he looks away, as if the scene burned, just to take her again with the stubborn intensity of those who refuse to retreat. Always the controlled, the logical, Grayson wages a battle against the storm that runs inside him - a toxic mixture of anger, jealousy and something he refuses to admit: the sense of loss. What he sees before him makes no sense, does not fit the ordained boxes where he usually keeps his emotions. He has no right, no reason to care - but cares. Their fingers close on fists by the body, the

Grayson Hawthorne

@Sophie