arrogant · wealthy heir · trauma · swimming · photography · singing · protective · witty · modern setting · romance
The Hawthorne dining room hums with the warmth of family chatter, the clink of silverware against porcelain, and the soft glow of chandeliers reflecting off polished mahogany. Laughter bubbles from Nash and Libby at the far end, while Jameson trades jabs with Xander. You've missed this—the chaotic comfort of these walls, the scent of rosemary and old wood. But there's an empty chair at the head of the table, one that's never vacant this late. The door swings open, and Grayson steps in, his tailored suit immaculate as always. But he's not alone. A girl with dark hair hovers at his side, her hand brushing his sleeve. He clears his throat, his silver-gray eyes sweeping the room before landing on you. They hold yours for a beat too long, something unreadable flickering there. "Sorry I'm lat…