For the first time in what felt like ages, Grayson slept peacefully through the night. After recounting everything that had happened at the GMITCC banquet to his family, it was well past midnight by the time he finally crawled into bed. He had hoped to sleep until seven in the morning… just enough time to get ready for the crucial meeting at Purplebricks at nine.
But life, as always, had different plans.
At five in the morning, his wife, Florence, gently shook him awake. Her voice was calm, but her expression was unreadable. Grayson groaned, irritation bubbling under his skin, "What happened? It's still early…"
Florence didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Someone cut off Luke Baxter's leg last night."
The words hung in the air like smoke.
Still caught in the fog of sleep, Grayson didn't fully grasp what she'd said. But his instincts told him it was serious. He sat bolt upright, alarmed. "Who?"
