Chapter 431: The Lost Memory

Grayson reached into his inner jacket pocket and pulled out a sleek, solid black credit card with no numbers printed on it—only an ancient family crest stamped in silver. He slapped it onto the counter with dramatic flair.

"Keep the remainder of the balance on this card," Grayson commanded the barista sternly. "Use it to buy yourself better manners when addressing nobility."

"Grayson, you cannot give a thousand-dollar tip for two croissants!" Mailah protested, trying to grab his hand.

"I am of infinite riches, Mailah," Grayson declared proudly, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her close to his side. "A king does not carry pocket change. Besides, if I make him rich, he will leave this bakery and never look at my beautiful wife again."

Mailah covered her face with her small hands, chuckling hopelessly against his chest. "You are completely ridiculous."

"I am thoroughly devoted," Grayson corrected smoothly, kissing the top of her head.

They sat at a small round wooden table by the window, watching the quiet night street outside. Grayson sat right beside her, refusing to sit across the table because he claimed two feet of wooden distance was "an unbearable tragedy for his soul."

He carefully picked up an almond croissant with his long fingers, blowing on it gently to ensure it wasn’t too hot, before holding a small piece up to Mailah’s lips.

"Eat, my love," Grayson coaxed softly, his eyes shining with pure romance. "You need your strength."

Mailah took a bite, savoring the rich, buttery flavor. "It’s delicious. Now take a bite yourself." She picked up a small piece and held it up to his mouth.

Grayson stared at the piece of pastry held in her small hand as if it were a sacred gift from the gods. He leaned down and took the bite from her fingers, his lips gently brushing against her skin, sending a sweet shiver down her spine.

"It tastes like heaven," Grayson rasped softly, looking directly into her eyes.

Mailah blushed deeply, sipping her hot chocolate to hide her bright smile. "You really sound like a character from a drama, Grayson."

"Dramas are based on weak human romance," Grayson scoffed grandly, reaching out to wipe a tiny speck of whipped cream from the corner of her lip with his thumb, then bringing his thumb to his own lips with a dangerous smirk. "Our love was written in the ancient dark stars long before humans learned how to write stories."

When they finally returned to the estate, it was quiet.

They walked through the front doors, Grayson holding a large brown paper bag of fresh pastries for the house staff and Mailah carrying a single white rose Grayson had insisted on buying from an outdoor stand on their way back.

As they stepped into the grand foyer, a loud snort echoed from the top of the marble staircase.

Chloe was sitting on the top step, wearing her bright neon-green jacket over gray pajamas, eating a bag of sour gummy worms. She looked down at them with a look of supreme judgment.

"Look who finally decided to come back," Chloe called down, leaning her chin on her hand. "Did you two spend the entire night riding around like leather-jacket biker delinquents?"

Grayson stopped in the middle of the foyer, holding Mailah’s hand tightly. He looked up at his cousin with supreme aristocratic disdain.

"Silence, child," Grayson boomed coldly, raising his chin. "Why are you awake at midnight eating artificial sugar?"

"Because your butler refused to make me late-night fries!" Chloe complained, waving a gummy worm at him. "She said kitchen hours end at ten! This house is a dictatorship!"

"It is a kingdom," Grayson corrected proudly. "And in this kingdom, those who drop cookie plates and yell at my staff are exiled to their bedchambers."

Mailah laughed softly, letting go of Grayson’s hand to walk over to the base of the stairs. She pulled a warm, fresh chocolate croissant out of the paper bag and held it up toward Chloe.

"Here, Chloe," Mailah said sweetly. "Grayson bought these from the city bakery. They’re still warm."

Chloe’s eyes lit up. She slid down the marble banister with dangerous speed, hopping off at the bottom and grabbing the pastry from Mailah. "Mailah, you are literally an angel sent to save me from this grumpy demon."

Grayson gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his broad chest as if he had been struck by a dark spear.

"You give my pastries to the brat?" Grayson grumbled, turning his moody pout back onto Mailah. "I bought those with my sacred black card for you!"

"There are six more in the bag, Grayson," Mailah smiled, reaching up to smooth down his dark hair. "Sharing is good for your dark soul."

"My soul requires only your affection," Grayson grumbled, though his face softened immediately as Mailah’s fingers stroked his cheek.

Chloe rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful, taking a massive bite of the croissant. "Ugh. Please. Stop glowing at each other. I’m going to throw up chocolate." She turned and headed back up the stairs, yelling over her shoulder, "Thanks for the croissant, Mailah! Grayson, your leather jacket looks way better on her!"

Grayson pointed a long finger after her retreating back. "I am locking her out of the Wi-Fi tomorrow!" he declared angrily.

Mailah hooked her arm through his, giggling against his shoulder. "Come on, my demon prince. Let’s go to bed."

Instantly, Grayson’s outrage vanished. His dark eyes flared with deep, intense warmth. "A magnificent suggestion, my love."

Upstairs in the grand master bedroom, the large stone fireplace crackled with a warm, steady fire, casting golden shadows across the dark wood furniture and plush velvet rugs.

Mailah sat at her mahogany vanity table, wearing a cream silk nightgown that fell softly around her ankles. She pulled out her hairpins, letting her long, dark hair fall in soft waves over her shoulders.

The bedroom door opened quietly.

Grayson walked in, having changed into a loose black silk robe that hung open slightly at his chest, revealing his broad, muscular torso. He walked over with slow, panther-like grace, stopping right behind her chair.

He reached out, his long fingers picking up the heavy silver hairbrush resting on the marble table.

"Allow me," Grayson requested softly, meeting her gaze in the mirror.

Mailah smiled softly in the reflection, leaning her head back against his chest. "You know how to brush hair?"

"I know how to care for everything that belongs to me," Grayson murmured in a low, velvety tone.

He began to brush her dark hair with incredible, gentle patience. His large, strong hands moved with breathtaking softness, smoothing down the strands, taking absolute care not to pull a single hair.

As he brushed her hair, his eyes remained fixed on her face in the mirror. The dramatic, arrogant persona he wore during the day quieted down, leaving behind a raw, intense depth of emotion that made Mailah’s heart beat faster.

"What are you thinking about, Grayson?" Mailah asked softly, reaching up to touch his hand on her shoulder.

Grayson set the silver brush down on the marble. He leaned down, placing his large hands gently on her shoulders, and rested his chin against the side of her neck.

"I am thinking about how fragile you are," Grayson whispered, his deep voice low and raspy against her skin. "And how monstrously powerful I am... yet one single smile from you brings me to my knees."

He turned his head, pressing a slow, warm kiss against the sensitive skin right behind her ear.

"Before I met you, Mailah," Grayson continued quietly, his dark eyes meeting hers in the mirror, "my life was an endless, empty march of power, shadow, and duty. I did not care about the passing of centuries. I did not care about joy, or warmth, or love. I existed only to rule in the dark."

He slid his hands down her arms, pulling her gently up from the chair. He turned her around to face him, wrapping his strong arms securely around her waist to pull her small body flush against his chest.

"And then you entered my life," Grayson rasped, his thumb rising to gently trace her bottom lip. "After the witch erased my memories... I was lost in a dark fog. But the moment I saw your face again, my soul recognized its owner. I might have denied that for a while, but it seemed inevitable."

Mailah felt tears of pure, sweet happiness well up in her eyes. She raised her small hands, framing his sharp, aristocratic face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath her palms.

"I love you, Grayson," Mailah whispered softly, her voice rich with undeniable devotion. "With or without your memories, I am yours."

Grayson let out a low, shuddering breath, as if those simple words were the most powerful magic in the universe. He closed his eyes for a brief second, savoring the feeling of her love, before opening them to look down at her with pure, undivided adoration.

"And I am yours, my love," Grayson declared fiercely.

He leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, breathtaking kiss.

The kiss was slow, rich, and filled with a passionate devotion that made the rest of the world vanish entirely. Grayson held her close against his chest, his large hands resting possessively over her waist, anchoring her to him as if he would never let her go.

When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathless. Grayson smirked softly, a breathtaking grin that lit up his dark features.

He swept his arms under her knees, lifting her effortlessly into his arms. Mailah gasped softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her over to the massive plush bed.