The Con Artist

Grey's POV

I stared at the medical report, disappointed, wearing a face that betrayed nothing..

After months of therapy, and nothing.

The doctor's apologetic gaze met mine. "I'm sorry, Mr. Grey. The sessions haven't worked. Surgery is the next step."

It was just another drop in a bottomless ocean. My time wasted, my money burned, and still, the virility test glared back. Negative.

"However," he added, hesitant, "surgery doesn't guarantee success-"

I shot to my feet, tossing the report aside. "This isn't right!"

He stood, hands raised to calm me. "Mr. Grey, please-"

"I've done everything," I snapped, pacing his office. "Every pill, every session, not a single day skipped. Why is it still the same?" I massaged my temple and paced the office, then spun to face him. "Does this mean I can't have children?"

I needed the truth, raw and unfiltered. No more sugar coating.

"We can't say definitively-"

"Answer me, damn it!" My fist slammed the desk, dropping a pen to the floor.

He sighed, shoulders sagging. "Surgery might work..."

"What are my chances?" I needed to know. "How low?"

The doctor sighed and I knew it was bad news. "Given that your condition is rooted more in psychological trauma than the physical injury, the odds are... low. I'll say it all depends on you."

On me?

What the hell hadn't I done? Did he understand the frustration of not being able to be aroused or being able to do anything at all?

And worst, I needed an heir. Without one, my empire that built on decades of sacrifice would fall to my vulture cousins. All the years I had put into learning business, right from childhood. I'd traded prom nights, first loves, a normal life for boardrooms and balance sheets, all under my father's iron gaze. I hadn't even had a girlfriend until my last year in college.

And now this?

I couldn't accept it.

"You must let go of the past," the doctor said, his voice soft, probing.

My jaw clenched, fists balling. Letting go meant erasing all the memories I had with Anne, my first love, the only one who saw the man beneath the mask, and the sacrifices I've had to make.

We'd met in London, at a business conference I attended a few days to my exams.

"The real test is out there, son," my father said. "Everything you do in school is just theory. Out there in conferences and board rooms, is the real deal."

She was there with her uncle, her smile stealing my breath and heart.

"They never let us live, do they?" she'd whispered, her eyes sparkling with rebellion. One that ignited mine

I was in my final year in business college and she in her first. I skipped the conference to chase her laughter through London's streets, dreaming of a future where she'd wear my ring and we would have a family.

"They wouldn't even know we're gone," I'd said, nudging her to explore the city.

"Sounds like fun," she'd replied, her chuckle a melody.

We were two sides of the same coin, bound by duty yet craving freedom. When I returned to New York, buried in work, she never complained. She understood.

We made the absolute best couple.

Until that weekend she snuck to see me. I was driving her to the airport, her hand in mine, when fate stole everything from me. Her life, my heart, and my future.

"You can't tell me to let go!" I roared at the doctor, my voice cracking with hurt.

It was sacrilege. I'd begged Anne to skip classes, to come see me. I should've died in her place.

Maybe I had. I was merely a walking corpse. No, heart, no soul. And now, no way to have a continuity. They all died on the spot that day, alongside my pretty Anne.

I stormed out of the office , certain I would not be returning. Luca trailed behind as I strode to my waiting car, my face the polished mask of the businessman the world knew. But if they looked inside, they'd see I was just a vacuum.

Empty.

In the car, Luca launched into updates, but my mind was on Carlos Alvarez.

"Intel says he's planning a major shipment this weekend," Luca said.

That was not enough. I needed more. That was why I needed Sara Anderson to be my eyes and ears. I couldn't let Carlos come to take everything I had worked so hard for.

"What about Sara? Any word?" I asked.

"She called saying she would start next week."

Next week? Was she crazy?

"Damn it," I muttered. Did she understand the stakes at hand? Alvarez wouldn't wait a week to hire a PA. She had to be there today.

"Get her on the line. Now."

The phone rang, then rang again, before her voicemail chirped: "This is Evelyn Rodriguez. I'm either having the time of my life or in a meeting. Please, leave a message. Thank you."

I clenched my jaw. "Did you trace her to where she stays at the moment?"

"Yes, boss. A lounge in Milton," Luca confirmed.

I nodded. "Take me there."

I had no time for silly games. Sara would sign a contract. If she failed to get me what I wanted, I would make sure she rots in prison.

Once we got to Milton, I marched down the hallway to the lounge, my heels clicking with purpose. I knocked, sharp and insistent.

A singsong "Coming!" floated through the door to my ears.

Seconds stretched to minutes. When it finally opened, Sara stood there, her smile melting into shock when she saw me. She had obviously been expecting someone. I could guess it was one of the men she was about to strip bare to nothing.

My eyes dropped to the silk lingerie clinging to her curves, and I felt something I hadn't felt since Anne.

My heart stirred, faint but undeniable.