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FIFTY NINE

GRAYSON'S POV

I stumbled into the mansion, barely aware of my surroundings. The grand entryway, usually a symbol of stability and wealth, felt suffocating. Alice and William were in the living room, their conversation halting abruptly as they caught sight of me. I could feel their eyes on me, taking in my disheveled clothes and the blood still crusted on my face from the bar fight.

"What the hell happened to you?" Alice's voice was sharp, and honestly I don't have her time.

William just stared, his expression a mix of shock and curiosity.

I ignored them both, my only focus on getting to my room. The weight of the evening pressed down on me, and I couldn't muster the energy to engage with either of them. Their judgmental glances were the last thing I needed right now.

"Grayson!" Alice called after me, but I kept walking, my steps heavy and unsteady.

I reached my room, shutting the door behind me with a thud that seemed to reverberate through the silence. Leaning against the door for a
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