Chapter 3

Grace's POV

Weekend. I stood at my bedroom window, peering through the sheer curtains at the black Maserati parked below.

Damien had really come.

Since our "chance encounter" at the coffee shop a few weeks ago, I'd been on edge. I knew he wouldn't just leave things be, but I hadn't expected him to show up at my doorstep so soon. Gabrielle had called me excitedly to announce that her "Yale prince" was coming for dinner tonight to meet her family.

"Grace! Come down and help!" Mom called from downstairs. Her voice carried obvious tension and excitement.

I took a deep breath and smoothed my hair. Acting too strange would only raise suspicions. I needed to pretend this was just an ordinary family dinner.

But when I descended the stairs and saw that familiar figure in our living room, my steps involuntarily froze.

Damien stood in our living room wearing a deep blue cashmere sweater and black slacks, looking like the perfect boyfriend straight out of a magazine. He was talking with my father, holding a glass of red wine, his expression attentive and polite.

"The investment opportunity is quite promising," his voice carried across the room. "My fund just completed acquisitions of several tech startups..."

Dad was listening intently, nodding in agreement.

"Grace!" Gabrielle spotted me and immediately latched onto Damien's arm. "Come meet my boyfriend Damien. Damien, this is my stepsister Grace I told you about."

Damien turned, those once-blind eyes—now bright as stars—looking directly at me. He wore a perfect smile and extended his hand.

"Hello, Grace. Gabrielle mentions you often."

I had no choice but to shake his hand. His fingers were still as warm as I remembered, but stronger than they were two years ago. When our skin touched, I felt a shiver like an electric current run through me.

"Hello," I tried to keep my voice steady, but I could hear the tremor in it.

His fingers brushed against my palm so lightly that neither Gabrielle nor my parents noticed. But I knew it wasn't accidental.

"Your hands are cold," he said softly. "You should take better care of yourself."

The comment reminded me of before, when he would express the same gentle concern whenever my hands went cold with fear. Back then, I thought it was genuine tenderness. Now I understood it was just another manifestation of his need for control.

"Dinner's ready!" Mom emerged from the kitchen, beaming. She was clearly impressed with this "perfect son-in-law" material.

At the dinner table, Damien was every parent's dream. He brought French perfume for my mother, saying he'd specially ordered it from Paris; discussed investments with my father, displaying maturity beyond his years; and was incredibly attentive to Gabrielle, occasionally serving her food and listening to her with such focus as if she were the most fascinating person in the world.

"Damien is just perfect," Mom couldn't help but remark. "So polite and talented. Gabrielle, you're so lucky."

"Young, accomplished, and promising," Dad added his praise. "Gabrielle, you've found yourself a good boyfriend."

Gabrielle smiled smugly. "He says I'm the most special girl he's ever met."

I kept my head down, cutting the steak on my plate, trying hard not to look in Damien's direction. If they knew the true face of this "perfect boyfriend," if they knew he had once imprisoned a helpless girl, would they still praise him like this?

"Grace, why are you so quiet?" Gabrielle suddenly noticed my silence. "Don't you think Damien is impressive?"

Forced to look up, I met Damien's gaze. He was watching me with that familiar deep emotion in his eyes, just like ten years ago when he would watch me read.

"Of course," I managed a smile. "You two make a great couple."

"I have a hobby," Damien suddenly spoke, his voice as gentle as if discussing the weather. "I collect toys. Especially Mickey Mouse. He represents hope and miracles, don't you think?"

I nearly dropped my water glass.

Mickey Mouse. That was a code only the two of us knew. Ten years ago in that basement, when I would curl up in the corner terrified, he would softly tell me stories about Mickey Mouse, saying it would bring me hope. Later, whenever he wanted to reassure me or send me a signal, he would mention Mickey Mouse.

Now, at my family's dinner table, in front of everyone, he had spoken our secret code word.

"I... I don't really know much about those characters," my voice trembled.

Damien smiled at me. "That's okay. Someday you'll learn to like them again. Some things, once you love them, are hard to forget, right?"

The implication in his words was so obvious, yet everyone else took it as casual conversation. Only I knew he was telling me that he hadn't forgotten, that he remembered everything.

After dinner, Gabrielle suggested showing Damien around the house. "Our home may not be as luxurious as yours, but it's cozy," she said.

Damien politely expressed his interest in the tour. As they passed by me, he suddenly stopped.

"Grace, would you mind showing me the study? Gabrielle mentioned you love reading, and I'm curious about your book collection."

Gabrielle looked displeased. "Why look at her boring books? My room is much more interesting."

"I'm very interested in literature," Damien explained gently. "And I'd like to get to know your family better."

His reasoning was flawless. Though reluctant, Gabrielle couldn't refuse.

I had no choice but to lead them upstairs. As we passed through the second-floor hallway, I pointed to a half-open door. "That's the study."

Gabrielle pushed the door open and walked in, beginning to explain the room's layout. While she was distracted, Damien deliberately fell back a few steps to walk beside me.

His voice was soft, so only I could hear: "Two years without seeing you, GG. You've grown even more beautiful than I imagined."

GG. Gray Grace.

That was the nickname he had given me, known only to him, used only by him.

My body stiffened, yet I found something deep inside me trembling. Was it fear? Or was it that buried complex emotion?

"You've got the wrong person," I struggled to stay calm. "I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckled softly, a sound filled with nostalgia, possessiveness, and something deeply suffocating.

"Is that so?" He reached out as if to touch my cheek but stopped at the last moment. "Then why are you trembling?"

"Damien! Come look at this!" Gabrielle called from her room.

He withdrew his hand, giving me a meaningful smile. "We have plenty of time to talk. No rush."

With that, he walked into the study, continuing his role as the perfect boyfriend.

I stood in the hallway, my legs weak, barely able to stand. I knew this was just the beginning. He had successfully infiltrated my family, winning everyone's trust. And I, just like ten years ago, had once again become prey in his hands.