Chapter 422: The Second Lead

"Can I get this?" Chloe asked with a completely blank face. "It costs eight hundred dollars and it makes me look like a glowing traffic cone."

Grayson stared at the bright orange coat with absolute horror, pulling Mailah slightly behind his broad frame as if the fake fur might spring to life and attack them.

"If you place that atrocious rag anywhere near my estate," Grayson said, his deep voice dropping into a cold whisper, "I will have Thomas burn it in the courtyard. I will not allow my home to look like a roadside construction zone."

"I’m buying it!" Chloe declared proudly, tossing it onto the glass counter.

Grayson let out a dramatic, suffering sigh, pulling his black card back out. "Fine. Take the bright monster. But if a single orange fiber touches my wife’s lavender sweater, I will banish you to a desert island with no internet access."

"You wouldn’t dare!" Chloe gasped.

"Try me, cousin," Grayson smirked coldly.

After paying for the mountain of shopping boxes, Grayson stepped out into the cool afternoon street. He looked like a dark king who had been roped into human chores, holding colorful paper bags in both hands. Yet, every single time Mailah adjusted her step, Grayson adjusted his long stride instantly, keeping his broad body positioned between her and the crowd.

When a chilly autumn breeze blew down the street, Grayson stopped dead in his tracks right in the middle of the busy sidewalk.

"Are you cold?" he asked, his dark eyebrows pulling together in deep concern.

"I’m fine, Grayson," Mailah smiled up at him.

"You are lying to keep me from worrying," Grayson declared firmly. Without waiting for her permission, he unbuttoned his heavy trench coat, pulled Mailah flush against his hard chest, and wrapped the massive jacket around both of them.

Mailah gasped as she was suddenly tucked inside his warm coat, her face pressed right against his crisp shirt and the steady beat of his heart.

"Grayson! We are standing in public!" Mailah giggled, her voice muffled against his chest.

"Let them look," Grayson rasped, his long arms locking around her waist under the fabric like iron bands. He rested his chin on top of her head, completely ignoring the passing shoppers who were staring at the tall, insanely handsome man holding his wife inside his coat like a precious hidden kitten. "My body heat belongs to you. If the cold air dares to touch your skin, I will personally fight the autumn sky."

"You are so silly," Mailah whispered, her heart melting as she wrapped her arms around his waist under the coat.

"I am a dark lord guarding my heart," Grayson corrected softly, his thumb gently caressing her waist. "Because if you catch a cold, my entire world stops spinning."

Behind them, Chloe groaned so loudly that several people turned around. "Can you two stop being disgusting for five minutes? My eyes are burning!"

Grayson didn’t even bother looking at her. He simply leaned down, pressing his lips against Mailah’s forehead with deep, quiet devotion, holding her close while the busy world rushed right past them.

Mailah could not help the warm laugh that bubbled up from her chest, her hand lightly tapping Grayson’s broad chest. "Grayson, let me go before Chloe starts throwing her straw at us."

Grayson slowly unclasped his heavy trench coat, letting the cool autumn air return to them. But he did not let go of her hand. He slid his long fingers through hers, locking their hands together tightly.

Chloe shuffled forward, dragging her feet like a tired child. The neon-orange coat was stuffed into a black paper bag that she banged against her legs with every single step.

"My feet hurt," Chloe whined loudly, pulling her sunglasses down to glare at the paved ground. "Human shoes are a scam. Why don’t you use your dark powers to move us home instantly?"

Grayson did not even turn his head to look at her. "Because my wife enjoys the afternoon walk. If your weak ankles cannot support your small body, you may sit on the curb until a garbage truck picks you up."

"You are awful!" Chloe yelled, taking another loud drag from her empty boba cup.

They reached the sleek black car parked at the end of the stone street. Grayson stepped forward and opened the passenger door for Mailah with grand care. He placed one broad hand over the top frame so she would not bump her head, adjusted her seat angle, and squeezed her hand gently before closing the door.

Then he turned to face Chloe at the back door.

"If you eat a single snack in the back seat," Grayson warned in a low tone, his sharp jaw tight, "I will make you wash the tires with a toothbrush."

"I am not eating!" Chloe snapped, shoving her hands deep into her hoodie pockets as she slid inside. "Just drive!"

Grayson got into the driver’s seat. The engine purred like a deep, powerful beast. He did not put the car into drive right away. Instead, he reached across the middle console, taking Mailah’s right hand and resting it comfortably on his thigh. He drove with one hand on the wheel, his thumb gently stroking the back of Mailah’s hand the entire time.

"Is your leg hurting from all the walking?" Grayson asked softly. His sharp eyes checked her face in the mirror before looking back at the road.

"Not at all," Mailah smiled, looking at how his large hand held hers so gently. "It was nice to walk around."

"Good," Grayson murmured, his deep voice filling the quiet car. "If your leg had throbbed even once, I would have bought the entire street and paved it with soft velvet."

"That makes no sense, Grayson," Mailah laughed.

"It makes perfect sense," he stated flatly. "You deserve soft velvet wherever you step."

From the back seat, Chloe made a loud gagging sound. "Stop it. Please. I am begging you. Drive faster so I can escape this love spell."

By the time they returned to the Ashford estate, the evening sun had faded into a soft, dark blue sky. The grand house was warm and quiet. Thomas met them at the entrance to take the heavy shopping bags, while Mrs. Baker was already in the kitchen preparing dinner.

Mailah walked into the large, bright kitchen to offer her help. Grayson followed right behind her like a tall, dark shadow.

"Mailah, dear," Mrs. Baker smiled warmly from the counter. "I am just chopping vegetables for the roast."

Mailah reached toward a wooden handle on the counter. "I can help with that!"

Before her fingers could even touch the wood, Grayson’s long arm shot out, snatching the metal knife away instantly.

"No," Grayson said firmly, holding the knife high up near the ceiling out of her reach.

Mailah blinked. "Grayson, it is just a vegetable knife."

"It is a sharp piece of metal," Grayson declared with dramatic horror in his voice. "Your skin is soft. It is delicate. It is precious. You shall not touch dangerous iron tools while I am alive."

Mrs. Baker hid a soft smile, turning back to stir her pot on the stove.

Chloe walked into the kitchen wearing her fuzzy cat slippers and her new neon-orange coat over her pajamas. She looked like a bright yellow and orange signal cone standing near the doorway.

"Why is he standing over the carrots like a guard?" Chloe asked, grabbing a red apple from a silver bowl.

"Because your cousin thinks a kitchen knife will bite me," Mailah sighed fondly, resting her hands on her hips.

Grayson rolled up his crisp white shirt sleeves, revealing his broad, muscular forearms. He picked up a fresh carrot, holding the knife with terrifying speed and perfect grace. Within five seconds flat, the carrots were chopped into neat, identical little rounds.

He turned toward Mailah, puffing his chest out with proud, regal air. "See? That is how a dark lord handles sharp tools. You may sit at the island and look beautiful while I prepare the food."

Chloe took a loud bite of her apple. "You chopped carrots. Calm down, king of darkness."

Grayson pointed a carrot slice at Chloe. "Be quiet, bright orange child."

Dinner was loud and full of energy. Chloe complained that human salt was too weak, Grayson scolded her for resting her elbows on the French table, and Mailah spent the entire meal keeping the peace while laughing until her cheeks turned red.

Later that night, the rest of the grand house fell completely dark and silent.

In the master bedroom suite, a warm fire crackled in the wide stone fireplace, casting a golden glow across the heavy velvet curtains and the large king bed.

Mailah stepped out of the bathroom wearing a soft cream silk gown. Grayson was sitting on the edge of the mattresses, wearing dark pants and a silk robe left slightly open at his broad chest.

The moment Mailah walked into the room, his dark eyes locked onto her. The sharp, silly, overly dramatic demon lord completely vanished. In his place was a man of deep, intense devotion.

Mailah walked over to the bed. Grayson reached out, taking her hands and pulling her down gently between his knees. He looked up at her face, his eyes glowing softly in the warm firelight.

"Are you happy, Mailah?" he whispered, his deep voice much lower and softer than before.

"I am very happy, Grayson," Mailah said, running her hand along his strong, sharp jawline. "Why do you ask?"

Grayson rested his cheek against her warm palm, closing his eyes for a quiet moment as if soaking in her touch.

"Because my life used to be completely empty," Grayson murmured softly. "Centuries of dark power. Endless gold. Countless spirits bowing to my name. None of it meant anything. I was just a cold lord wandering in a dark, silent hall."

He opened his eyes, looking up at her with a raw tenderness that made Mailah’s breath hitch in her throat.

"Then you came into my life," Grayson rasped out, pulling her closer by her waist until she was leaning flush against his hard chest. "You taught me how to feel warmth. You taught me what it means to care for someone more than my own pride. You are my true home, Mailah."

Mailah felt a sweet warmth fill her chest. She leaned down, wrapping her arms tightly around his broad shoulders. "Oh, Grayson..."

Grayson shifted smoothly, lifting her onto the bed and pulling her small body close beside him under the thick blankets. He wrapped his long arms securely around her waist, burying his face into the soft crook of her neck.

"I will protect this home," Grayson whispered softly into her skin. "No matter what comes from the upper realm. No matter what secrets Chloe is hiding. No one will ever take this peace away from us."

"I know," Mailah whispered back, resting her head over his heart. "I trust you."

Within half an hour, Mailah’s breathing slowed into a deep, peaceful sleep. Her small hand remained resting softly against his chest.

Grayson lay awake in the dim room, listening to the crackle of the wood and the steady rhythm of her breath.

A soft buzz broke the silence from his phone resting on the dark wooden nightstand.

Remembering his strict warning to Jasper, Grayson reached out smoothly, grabbing the phone without making a single sound or moving Mailah an inch.

He lit up the screen. A single text message from Jasper Smith read:

My Lord, my informant just met the retired vault guard. I have the file on Lady Chloe.

Grayson’s dark eyes narrowed slightly in the dark room. A cold, quiet calm settled over his sharp features.