Chapter 3 Unhinged
Not in front of these two old men, both of whom were far too perceptive for my liking. They might have looked friendly, but their eyes were sharp. Too sharp. Sharp enough to read a person in a second.
So, in front of them, I kept my composure.
Grandpa Renan nodded at me. ‘Busy day?’
‘Nothing I can’t manage.’
‘Anne’s becoming more and more capable,’ Caspar Grimaldi chimed in, flashing one of his rare approving smiles. ‘I heard about that deal you closed the other day—it even reached my ears.’
‘Mr Grimaldi, you flatter me. I was just lucky,’ I said, ever the picture of humility.
Caspar chuckled. ‘Now, now, no need to be modest. You’ve got what it takes to do great things. Renan and I have gone head-to-head many times. The only real loss I’ve suffered is not having a granddaughter like you.’
Grandfather smirked. ‘Oh, come on, Caspar. You’re not exactly at a disadvantage—you’ve got Leander and Mireille. I remember when they were little, so well-behaved and quiet. I thought I could raise Linnea to be like that, but no matter what I tried—’
‘Total failure,’ Linnea finished for him, mimicking his gruff tone with perfect comedic timing.
The group erupted into laughter.
I seized the moment to steal a glance at the one person who truly mattered to me—Leander Grimaldi.
He was smiling too, soft and sweet, every curve of his lips placed just so. It was the kind of smile that made looking away impossible. And maybe it was just the lighting, or the warmth of the garden, but I swore I saw a faint flush on his cheeks.
Had it really been a year? He was nineteen now, officially an adult. Taller than before, though still lean, still delicate in a way that made me want to pull him close and shield him from the world. If I wore heels, he’d probably reach just under my chin. Perfect height for—
Oh. Oh no.
Why was I thinking about kissing him again?
I shot to my feet. ‘Grandfather, Mr Grimaldi, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go change.’
‘Go on, then,’ Grandfather said with a dismissive wave.
I didn’t walk—I fled.
Back in my room, I grabbed an ice cube from the tray and bit down on it, hoping the cold would shock some sense into me. No such luck. I yanked open my wardrobe, pulling out the dress I’d bought specifically to wear for Leander.
Stupid. So stupid.
Slipping it on, I stepped in front of the mirror and studied my reflection. Softer, warmer. Less like an untouchable ice queen, more like someone approachable. Someone he wouldn’t hesitate to smile at, to talk to.
People always said I was cold—family, friends, colleagues. I’d never cared before. Their opinions had never mattered. But when it came to Leander, suddenly I cared too much.
I worried about being too distant. I worried about him pulling away.
The fragile connection we had—if you could even call it that—was so thin, so delicate, that the smallest misstep could break it entirely. And if that happened…
If I lost him, I wasn’t sure I could handle it.
I pressed a hand to my forehead. This was getting ridiculous.
How the hell was I supposed to get closer to him?
At first, I thought I’d be satisfied just being friends—watching him from up close, basking in his presence like some Victorian maiden swooning over her secret crush. But then greed crept in. I wanted more. I wanted him. In my arms, in my life, preferably under me while I smothered him with kisses and an unreasonable amount of affection.
There were even moments—dark, dangerous, completely unhinged moments—when I thought, ‘Screw it, why not just keep him?’ Literally. As in, grab him, lock him up and keep him like a sugar baby. My sugar baby.
Except, minor problem: the Grimaldis weren’t exactly the type to be ‘kept.’ Mr Grimaldi would have an aneurysm. My grandfather would probably disown me, then resurrect me just to kill me again. And Leander would probably hate me for the rest of his life.
He might be nineteen, but he was still just a sweet, sheltered boy with barely any experience in the real world. It was probably for the best if I… didn’t act on impulse.
Yet, according to my extensive (and totally not obsessive) research, he hadn’t dated anyone.
Which meant I still had a chance.
In the garden, the two grandfathers were still locked in an intense chess battle, while the rest of us sat around pretending to care.
Then, out of nowhere, Linnea yelped.
Everyone turned to her in confusion as she suddenly jumped from her chair, grabbed the hem of her dress, and sprinted off like she was fleeing a crime scene.
Our heads snapped in the direction she was running, and—oh.
Oh.
That was me.
Well, technically, me, but rebranded.
Gone was the stiff, high-fashion power suit. In its place, a soft ivory cardigan over a pale, flowy dress. My usual icy aura was replaced with something suspiciously warm, almost… gentle. The sheer whiplash of the transformation was enough to leave everyone momentarily stunned.
Linnea practically tackled me, circling around like an overly enthusiastic puppy. Then, hands clasped behind her back, she smirked.
‘So my dear, fearsome sister does have a human side after all.’
I raised a brow. ‘And what, I wasn’t human before?’
Perfect. If even she thought I seemed more approachable, this dress was worth every penny.
Linnea shot me a mischievous grin. ‘Ever heard of the term “Ice Queen,” Anne?’
I smiled at her. ‘You don’t like the new me?’
Linnea clutched my arm like I was the last designer bag at a sample sale. ‘Like it? I love it.’
Excellent. Mission ‘Be Less Intimidating’ was officially a success.