Chapter 29

**G R A C E**

"So," he begins, his tone casual yet probing, "I’m guessing you’re here for Sophie’s birthday?"

His question hangs in the air, but I don't rush to fill the silence. The truth is, talking about Sophie feels normal, and nothing about this situation is normal. I nod, my response clipped and noncommittal. "Yeah."

He waits, clearly hoping for more, but when I don’t elaborate, the silence between us grows thick and awkward. His expression falters for just a moment—a flash of something that almost looks like disappointment crosses his face. He reaches forward, a smooth, almost too-practiced motion, and opens a bottle of champagne from a cooler beside him.

He pours the champagne with the ease of someone who’s done it a thousand times, and the soft pop of the cork feels oddly jarring in the small space. "Champagne?" he offers, holding out a glass toward me, his smile returning but with an edge that I can't quite define.

I take the glass hesitantly, my fingers brushing against his for the briefest of moments. I pull away due to nothing more than surprise and I am forced to notice how there is none of that tension, that angst, that warning, that I felt when Alex’s finger touched me.
I raise the glass to my lips, letting the cool rim barely touch them before pulling back. The champagne bubbles lightly, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere. I sip just enough to wet my lips, the taste barely registering. My eyes drift to the luxury around me—the plush leather, the soft lighting, the smooth hum of the car beneath us. It’s a life I can hardly imagine, let alone feel comfortable in.

Matt watches me with a calm, almost predatory patience, as if waiting for something. When I don’t speak, he tilts his head slightly, his gaze sliding over my dress. “That dress,” he says, voice low and deliberate, “It’s quite something. A bit daring, don’t you think?”

The comment catches me off guard, and I feel a wave of discomfort roll through me. My fingers tighten around the champagne glass as I shift in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of the dress’s deep neckline and the way his eyes follow the curve of the fabric. There’s nothing subtle about the way he’s looking at me, and it feels like he’s peeling back layers, seeing more than I want him to.

He’s bold, almost too bold, and the way his gaze lingers makes my skin crawl. “It’s... definitely not made for running,” I mutter, trying to deflect with a weak joke, hoping to break the intensity of his stare.

Matt chuckles, the sound deep and smooth, and it only adds to my unease. “No, it’s not. But it certainly turns heads.” He looks me up to down once more before speaking again. “Maybe we can find you something a bit more... comfortable.” His words are laced with suggestion, and I can’t help but feel like there’s more to them than just clothes. “I know a few places around here. Hidden gems, you could say. Places where you’ll find something that looks good and feels even better.”

I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry, and take another tiny sip of the champagne, more to buy time than anything else. The thought of following him to another place, of continuing this strange, tension-filled interaction, feels like stepping deeper into a web I’m not sure I can escape from. Also, why does he want to help anyway? What’s with the dessert, the bandaging and the champagne?

“Why are you doing this?” I blurt out, my voice quieter than I intended. “Being so... generous. You don’t even know me. Am I your charity case for the day?”

Matt’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Charity case? No, Grace, you’re my reward. I’m in a celebratory mood, Grace. Let’s just say I’ve had a good day—closed a deal that’s been in the works for a long time. One that’s going to leave my biggest enemy eating dust.” He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, “And as it turns out, our mutual friend Alex isn’t having such a great day himself.”

My heart skips a beat. Alex? The deal? It clicks into place, the pieces aligning with a sickening clarity. The meeting Alex was supposed to have, the one that got postponed... Matt’s the other party, the one who walked away victorious. The thought sends a strange thrill through me, but it’s tangled with a mess of emotions I can’t quite untangle.

I don’t fully engage in the conversation, letting his words hang in the air. But inside, my mind is racing. Alex is probably furious right now, and the idea of provoking him further, of pushing his buttons, is both terrifying and oddly exhilarating. Come to think of it, with the deal ruined, he is probably too busy fixing his business to even look for me, he’s probably forgotten all about my escape. Funny thing is, the thought of him not chasing me anymore doesn’t make me feel very pleasantly relieved. However, the thought of him finding out I went shopping with Matt, his enemy who also stole his business deal that he’s been working on for 3 years, sends a rush of rebellious excitement through me.

Wouldn’t it just drive him crazy? Make him lose that cold, controlled composure he always holds onto so tightly? The image of Alex’s face, twisted in anger and jealousy, flits through my mind, and I have to suppress a smirk. Maybe it’s petty, maybe it’s dangerous, but the idea of getting under his skin like that is almost too tempting to resist.

I glance at Matt, his expression unreadable but clearly pleased with himself, and I find myself nodding. “Fine,” I say, the word slipping out almost involuntarily. “Let’s go shopping.”

Matt’s smile widens, satisfied, and as the car starts moving, I settle back into my seat, a strange mix of anticipation and dread coiling in my stomach.