The Tycoon's Secret Wife's Escape

"Is that Mr. Blake?"

"What's he doing here?"

"Haven't you heard? He owns part of the hotel-he's one of the major shareholders!"

Whispers spread through the crowd, but I couldn't look away from the man I hadn't seen in eight years. I was seventeen the last time we met-just before he disappeared.

"You're saying she pushed you?" Grayson's cold voice sliced through Sabrina's dramatic sobs as she clung to Gabriel

Perhaps because of Grayson's piercing gaze, Sabrina couldn't bring herself to lie. Fear kept her silent.noveldrama

"We can't afford any incidents at this hotel, especially with your drama series producer being a frequent guest. Are you certain about this accusation?" His tone carried the weight of authority.

"Yes!" Sabrina answered, her tone resolute.

"Then you won't mind if I review the surveillance footage to confirm Ms. Isabella Prescott pushed you into the pool?"

As she seemed to recall the many security cameras around, panic flashed across Sabrina's face.

"N-no, wait-I'm not sure anymore!" she stammered, gritting her teeth and shooting a pleading look at Gabriel. "Maybe Isabella didn't mean it. She just walked past me... I-I probably misunderstood."

I stood trembling and silent, my wet clothes clinging uncomfortably. Grayson had always been the only one in high school who saw Charlotte's true character. He's also clearing my name right now, not wanting anyone to think poorly of me.

"Boss, I can handle Ms. Prescott," a man at Grayson's side offered.

"Take her inside," Grayson ordered, turning toward the main building with glacial indifference.

A man who looked to be in his forties, with kind eyes despite his stern expression, approached me.

"I'm Eliot Ward, Mr. Blake's assistant. This way, Ms. Prescott. Let's get you into dry clothes before you catch a cold," he said

with a hint of concern.

As I followed him, I overheard people whispering about Grayson.

"Have you seen how handsome Mr. Blake is? Those eyes..."

"Yes, but I heard he's ruthless in business."-

"Ruthless? How?"

Mr. Eliot Ward turned and glared at the gossiper, making them stumble back and nearly crash into a potted palm.

"Did you see how she cleared Isabella's name in response to Sabrina's accusation?"

"Just what you'd expect from a business-world delinquent. Probably trying to avoid any trouble that might mess with the hotel's reputation," someone muttered nearby.

"But why would Sabrina make up something like that? Accusing a fellow actress of pushing her..."

Murmurs faded into the background as Eliot guided me through the hotel's service corridor and into a private office. The room exuded a warm atmosphere.

"I... I have a suite on the 11th floor," I informed the assistant, feeling slightly awkward.

"Yes, Ms. Prescott." Eliot's tone was gentle but firm. "However, given your current state, ming the main derator would be inappropriate. It's a precaution. We'll bring you some fresh clothes soon. Please make yourself comfortable here for nom?

He was right, of course. I'd already caused enough of a scene; trailing water through the hotel's pristine lobby wouldn't help I nodded my acceptance.

I noticed Grayson's familiar scent lingering on his coat, and a wave of nostalgia swept over me. Back in high school, he was the one who added color to my days. But after eight years apart, the memory felt distant, almost surreal

The Grayson Blake of today was apparently ruthless, a shark in the business world's troubled waters. For all I knew, he might not even remember me.

When he left our city, I found out he was the son of Mr. Blake, a global business titan. It seemed hard to believe, considering our small high school. Also, Grayson never acted like a typical wealthy heir. He was more of a quiet rebel, confident withou needing to show off.

The door opened quietly, and there he was, holding a paper bag with the hotel's elegant logo. Time had changed and made him tougher, but his eyes remained unchanged.

"My apologies-it's the only brand available in our boutique," he said, his voice deeper than I remembered.

A high-end floral dress lay inside. "It's fine. I'll reimburse you, Mr. Grayson Blake.

I hesitated to call him casually. I wasn't even sure if he remembered me, as it felt like there was a wall between us then.

His expression darkened, but he gestured toward the door on the side. "My personal bathroom. You can change there."

I nodded and stepped inside, finding a sleek, modern space with warm touches.

As I started to take off my wet clothes, I heard a phone ring in the office.

Grayson's voice came through the surprisingly thin door.

"Grandma," he said.

"Grayson, are you staying in Los Angeles?" an elegant but fragile woman's voice drifted in.

"Yes, my schedule's clear for the next few days..."

"Perfect timing, then. You'll finally get to meet Mrs. Mendez's daughter. Such a lovely girl-she'd make a wonderful wife for you."

"What?! Grandma! I told you I'm busy and not interested in meeting some random woman!" Grayson's voice rose sharply.

The sudden sound of muffled sobbing made me stop; my one arm stuck in the dry floral dress. "Grayson, why are you being so stubborn? All I want is to see you settled down with a family while I'm still here."

The frustration in his voice faded away like frost under the sun.

"I'm sorry for raising my voice, Grandma. But this... it's not going to happen. You have many years ahead of you... Please don't cry..."

Caught off guard by this softer side of the man everyone called ruthless, my breath was held in surprise.

"No, Grayson, we both know my heart is weaker by day. I need to know that

someone will take care of you. If I'm gone, I'll find peace knowing there's

someone by your side. I don't want you to end up alone like your father left you... Please, meet Mrs. Mendez's daughter."