𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐲 | ✓

8

I twist a lock of my hair around my finger, absently playing with it as I gaze out of the glass wall across from my work desk.

Once upon a time, I fell in love with Spencer Wright. I made poor decisions and our love story ended in shambles.

Five years have gone by. Even though I don't think I love him anymore, the notion of going against him doesn't particularly sit well with me.

I wasn't lying or exaggerating when I warned him to stay out of my way or else he'll regret it.

At this point, I don't know if I should be scared of myself or not. Maybe I'm truly going mad with this unstoppable urge for revenge. Because I really don't think I'll be stopping at anything to get what I want; that is, Benjamin Stewart's destruction.

I sigh and rub my brows. Never in million years did I ever imagine the first time I get to see Spencer after things ended between us, would lead to such a messed-up challenge.

But if he truly tries to stop me, how far am I willing to go to oppose him?

The answer frightens me and I refuse to think about it.

A knock on the door snaps me out of my thoughts as Erika's head appears. "Ma'am, Mr. Benjamin Stewart is here."

I nod and she leaves. With a sharp inhale I push myself to my feet, brushing off imaginary dust from my tight white dress, reaching just below my knees, before readjusting the V line collar. I trace the necklace Spencer gifted me on my birthday five years ago, and what I use now as my good luck charm, I definitely need the luck.

Assured and confident, with long strides, I march out of my office, making sure to lock the door before heading straight to the room we've set for this meeting.

I hold my head high as I enter the conference room. The curtains are drawn and Benjamin has situated himself on one end of the long black meeting desk placed in the middle of the room.

"Gracie," he greets me and gets to his feet, offering his hand to me as I approach him.

I keep my face neutral, devoid of emotion. Even when I shake his hand, I ensure my face doesn't betray me and flicker the disgust bubbling in me.

Benjamin has donned a navy-blue suit; his hair has turned grey entirely and wrinkles are starting to appear around his eyes and mouth. He unbuttons his jacket suit as he sits back down, tightening his tie around his collar.

In slow, oozing with confidence movements, I choose to sit across from him, on the other end of the table.

His icy blue eyes fixate on me, a few shades lighter than my dad's eye color. They never really had anything in common. Not appearance-wise and definitely not character-wise.

Sometimes, I wonder if they were truly brothers. I wouldn't be surprised if it turns out Benjamin was adopted.

I steadily hold his gaze, steepling my hands, as he leans back into his seat, showing off a relaxed stance, taking up the entire space the leather chair offers.

"I'm going to go straight to the point," he starts and I arch an eyebrow. He takes it as his cue to continue, "I must confess, I wasn't expecting you to be able to rise back up so high and quickly, but you have, and I must say I'm proud to be your uncle."

I grind my teeth, putting my entire willpower in use to not roll my eyes. I'm glad Mom took the day off and Mason's schedule is busy enough he wouldn't have been able to join if I had told him about this meeting.

Apparently, this asshole has come for the sole reason of pissing us off.

"I'm sure your dad is proud too," he adds, a cruel smirk twitching the corner of his mouth upwards.