Grace's POV
Grace was deep in contract revisions when she heard James come into the library.
She didn't look up from her laptop. She'd learned that looking up was dangerous. Looking up meant eye contact. Eye contact meant remembering. Remembering meant weakness.
So she kept her eyes on the screen in front of her and pretended to be completely absorbed in the legal language of the Mercer Solutions contract. Which she was. Mostly. Partly. Not at all.
She could feel him moving through the library. Could hear his footsteps on the wooden floor. Could sense his presence like her body had some kind of radar that only worked for him.
This was becoming a problem.
They'd been living in the same house for days now, and Grace had managed to maintain distance. She'd kept conversations brief. She'd avoided being alone with him. She'd built walls that were specifically designed to keep him out.
But walls didn't matter when you could feel someone's presence in the room. When your entire nervous system seemed to activate just knowing they were nearby.
James moved toward the bookshelves. Grace kept her eyes on her laptop screen. He was probably looking for something work-related. A business book. Something about strategy or management or the art of building empires. Something that had nothing to do with her.
She heard him reach for something on the shelf. Heard the soft sound of a book being pulled from its place.
Then she needed that same book.
It was ridiculous. She absolutely needed to reference that specific architectural design guide for the contract revisions. The one that was right where James was standing. The one that would require her to get up and walk over to him and interact with him in a space that suddenly felt very small.
Grace closed her eyes for one second.
Then she stood up.
She moved toward the bookshelf where James was standing. She could see the book he was reaching for. The exact same book she needed. The universe was having a very specific sense of humor about all of this.
They reached for it at the same time.
Their hands touched.
Grace's entire world narrowed down to the feeling of his skin against hers. His hand was warm. Familiar in a way that made her chest hurt. She could smell his cologne, that same scent he'd worn since she'd known him. Cedar and something else. Something that smelled like safety and home and all the things she was trying not to need.
Neither of them pulled away immediately.
The moment stretched. Became something more than just an accident. Became something that felt intentional on both sides.
Grace could feel the warmth of his hand. Could remember exactly what his touch used to mean. How it used to be the signal that everything was going to be okay. That he was there. That she mattered.
Her breath caught.
"Sorry," James said quietly, but he wasn't moving his hand. He was just holding it there, touching her, like if he moved even slightly, she might disappear.
"It's fine," Grace whispered.
But it wasn't fine. Nothing was fine. Everything was spiraling and she was letting it spiral and she didn't know how to stop herself.
If she didn't pull her hand back right now, she was going to lean into him. If she didn't pull away, she was going to remember what it felt like to belong to someone. What it felt like to let someone matter that much. What it felt like to trust that someone wouldn't leave her alone in a mansion and chase their empire instead.
Grace pulled her hand back first.
The loss of contact felt immediate and sharp. Like she'd been holding onto something warm and suddenly it was gone.
James held the book he'd been reaching for, but it was clear he didn't actually care about the book. He was just using it as something to do. Something to keep his hands busy so they wouldn't reach for her again.
"How's the business going?" he asked carefully. Like he was testing the waters. Like he wasn't sure if she'd answer or if she'd just walk away.
Grace blinked. It was the first real question he'd asked her in five years. Not about logistics. Not about the mansion situation. A real question about something that mattered to her.
"It's good," she said, and she was proud that her voice sounded steady. "I won a contract with Mercer Solutions."
She watched his expression change.
It wasn't a business expression. It wasn't the kind of smile he gave at company events or board meetings. It was real. Genuine. The kind of pride that came from actually caring about someone's success.
"Grace, that's incredible," he said, and he sounded like he meant it.
Something inside her chest cracked open.
He'd never celebrated her like this before. When they were married, her accomplishments had felt small compared to his. She'd been supportive of his success, but he'd never really noticed hers. He'd been too busy building his empire to see that she was trying to build something too.
But now, standing in this library with a book he didn't actually want, James was looking at her like she was the most important achievement in the world.
"It's a major waterfront development in Brooklyn," Grace found herself explaining. "Sustainable luxury. Cutting edge architectural design with environmental consciousness. They loved my proposal so much they're accelerating the timeline."
"Tell me about it," James said, setting the book down on a nearby table. "I want to hear everything."
And so she did.
Grace found herself talking about her vision. About the way she'd designed the building to work with the environment instead of against it. About the innovative water systems and the rooftop gardens and the way the structure would actually improve the neighborhood instead of just taking up space in it.
James listened like she was the only person in the world. He asked questions. Real questions. He wanted to understand her process. Her reasoning. Her vision.
For the first time since he'd come back, Grace felt like he actually saw her. Not as his ex-wife. Not as the woman who'd trapped him in the mansion. But as someone with talent. With ideas. With something important to contribute to the world.
It felt dangerous.
It felt incredible.
"You're brilliant," he said when she finished talking. "You know that, right? This isn't just good architecture. This is the kind of work that changes how people think about buildings. This is legacy work."
Grace felt tears threatening and she blinked them away.
"Thank you," she said quietly.
James took a step closer.
"I mean it," he said. "I know I never said it before. I know I never noticed when you were building things while I was building other things. But I see it now. I see you. And you're incredible."
Grace's heart was beating so hard she thought it might break her ribs.
This was the moment. This was where she needed to walk away. Where she needed to remind herself that words were easy. That James had used words before and then gone back to ignoring her. That she'd built her entire life around not needing what he was offering.
She opened her mouth to say something. Anything that would create distance between them.
But before she could speak, her phone rang.
It was loud. Jarring. Breaking whatever spell they'd been under.
Grace looked at the screen and her blood went cold.
It was Priya.
But it wasn't a regular call. It was the kind of urgent call that came with dread. The kind of call that meant something had gone wrong.
She answered it.
"Grace," Priya's voice came through panicked. "You need to turn on the news right now. Any channel. It's about Marcus and you and James. They're saying something on the news that's going to make everything worse."
Grace switched the call to speaker.
The news was already on James's phone.
The headline made her stomach drop.
It said: Ex-Wife of Billionaire James Sullivan Caught In Elaborate Embezzlement Scheme. New Evidence Suggests She Orchestrated The Theft.
And underneath that, there was a grainy photograph. Of Grace. From five years ago. Signing documents.
Documents that Marcus had clearly doctored to make her look guilty.
James saw it at the same time she did.
His entire body went still.
"That's not real," he said immediately. "Those documents are fabricated. We can prove it."
But Grace wasn't listening anymore.
She was reading the fine print of the news report.
And she saw something that made her blood actually freeze.
The report said that according to new evidence, the embezzlement had been ongoing for longer than previously thought. It said that the timeline went back to when Grace and James were married. It said that James had potentially benefited from the stolen money through his connection to Grace's company.
It said that James Sullivan was now being investigated as a potential co-conspirator.
Grace looked at the man standing in front of her. The man who'd just celebrated her success. The man whose presence made her remember what it felt like to be loved.
And she understood finally what Marcus had done.
He hadn't just trapped her with his accusations.
He'd trapped both of them.
And now, by helping her, James was being dragged down with her.