The Con Artist

Grey's POV

I watched as her lips curled into a frown, defiance flashing in her eyes

I had expected nothing.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded like she owned the place.

She was about to slam the door, but I stopped it with my hand and a foot forward, blocking the threshold.

"I was clear with my instructions, Ms. Anderson," I said, my voice low.

I could feel my heart racing as I pinned my eyes on her, the dark sunglasses I wore, now the only thing that stopped me from looking like a fool.

Sara Anderson looked good. I knew how to pass a compliment when it was deserving. Only that compliments to women like Sara were never meant to be worded. Just secretly expressed.

I stepped further into the room, scanning it: velvet couches, a half-empty bottle of merlot, the city's skyline glinting beyond the window.

"I don't care whatever -" I stopped and faced her, swiftly to catch the scowl on her face. "- whoever you conned last night. You should be in Carlos Alvarez's estate right now, trying to convince him..." I stared at her form in the lingerie for an unholy three seconds, the fabric clinging to her like a second skin. "...however possible."

She seemed to pick up the hint from the tone of my voice because her scowl melted into a smile. But then, she sauntered up to me, the friendly smile metamorphosing into something seductive, dangerous, and strangely, setting my blood on fire.

She placed a hand on my chest and it seemed like time froze. And suddenly, we were in another universe where she could command my attention without consequence.

She brought her lips to my ear and whispered softly.

"Should I demonstrate?"

My body stiffened, a rush of heat that betrayed years of dormancy. I grabbed her hand off my chest, backing away from her as far as possible. I cleared my throat and straightened my suit, hoping it would do the same to my mind.

"Luca - my PA would be communicating directly with you," I said, my voice clipped. "You cannot make the mistake of being seen with me or talking to me."

The frown had returned to her face. She nodded and flicked an invisible speck off her lingerie. My eyes moved impulsively to her form. With the way the fabric curled around her figure, it left little for the imagination and more for my unravelling control. Whoever she had worn this for, hadn't stood a chance.

"I can handle myself," she said cooly, locking her eyes with mine.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Grey," she continued. "But I'm usually a bad hostess to men who send me on deadly missions. I'll be in the shower. The door is over there." She pointed at the door. "Use it when you want to leave."

I was about to say something but her hands were already on the straps of her lingerie, pulling it enough to expose her cleavage.

I turned away impulsively.

"Have a good day, Evelyn Rodriguez. I expect good news by evening."

But as I took the elevator and walked back to my car, I couldn't stop thinking about her in that lingerie. I could almost swear that she was someone I knew..

But men like me had nothing to do with women like her. I was already in the car when I realised I hadn't made her sign the contract as I had tasked myself while stepping out of the car a few minutes ago.

"Drive," I told Luca instead.

My heart hadn't raced like this in years, not since Anne. Yet Sara was the kind of woman I avoided: cunning, untamed, a threat to my carefully built walls.

She was the kind of woman I avoided.

"I need a follow up on Sara Anderson," I told Luca.

"Yes, sir," came his reply.

"Ensure she gets to Carlos' estate today, dressed appropriately. Go shopping. Find something perfect. I hope you understand?"

He nodded. "Yes, sire," he replied with a steady voice.

I leaned back, closing my eyes. But when the grainy thought of Sara's semi nude form wasn't terrorising my thoughts, it was the doctor's diagnosis that afflicted my mind.

After building a successful empire all over America and spreading to its environs, my greatest desire was having an heir - mine - that would inherit everything. That I would train just like my father had trained me. But my life seemed to have ended the very day Anne died. Meeting with the doctor today had only sealed my worst fears.

I had no one.

And everything I owned was going to go for charity the moment I was six feet under.

But maybe I refused to believe that final sentencing. Maybe that was why I was still bent on chasing Carlos Alvarez out of my city.

Today, I felt my heart race and even skip a beat. Maybe more would follow in the coming days.

Maybe a woman like Sara Anderson could stir me up in ways I haven't felt in a long time.

"Change of plans," I said, leaning forward. "Take me to the best boutique around. I'll be doing the shopping myself."

"Yes, sire."

La Vie en Luxe was one of the best in Manhattan. As I stepped out of the car, I noticed the camera flashes from the paparazzi. I could imagine the news asking if Thomas Grey was in love again. Only a man in love would shop at La Vie en Luxe.

Only that I wasn't.

My gaze was solid as I stepped into the luxurious space and the moment I saw the purple dress, I knew it would be perfect for her. My chest tightened with the demonizing thought that I wouldn't be able to see her in the dress. But as I ran my hand through the fabric, I felt the palpitations of my heart again. It felt too strange, too good.

I exchanged the gown for a swipe of my card. The bill read in thousands of dollars. But I stepped out as a satisfied man. I dropped the bag in the passenger seat and returned to the back seat.

"Start the car," I instructed Luca. "Return to Milton."

Maybe Sara Anderson was more than a tool to crush Alvarez. Maybe she was the spark to wake me from this half-life..