When He Chose Her Over Justice, I Chose Revenge Over Love - Chapter 47: Chapter 47
You are reading When He Chose Her Over Justice, I Chose Revenge Over Love, Chapter 47: Chapter 47. Read more chapters of When He Chose Her Over Justice, I Chose Revenge Over Love.
I first met Grayson back in college.
Found him on the rooftop getting his ass kicked by a bunch of Manhattan trust fund brats.
Even with blood streaming down his face, he gritted his teeth and refused to beg for mercy.
Had to respect that kind of backbone.
So I walked over and shot those guys a look.
The second they saw me, those fearless rich boys went white as sheets and bolted like their asses were on fire.
As they scrambled away, Grayson turned to look at me.
He struggled to his feet, wincing as he warned me: "Those guys are bad news. You shouldn't come up to the roof alone—don't want them targeting you next."
Seeing him beaten to hell but still worried about a stranger made me smile: "Trust me, they won't mess with me."
Grayson took in my plain clothes and thrift store vibe, then snorted: "Come on, don't kid yourself. Those are Manhattan elite—their families run this city. Why would they be scared of some regular girl?"
"Look, I don't judge people for being ordinary, but you don't need to make stuff up to impress me."
His assumption was pretty amusing, so I didn't bother correcting him.
Later I learned his story—third-tier family money, nearly bankrupt, his dad jumped off a building to escape the debt collectors.
Grayson had clawed his way into Columbia on pure merit, determined to rebuild his family's legacy.
Maybe it was because I was so used to spoiled trust fund babies who'd never worked a day in their lives.
But his drive and determination really got to me.
We started talking more and more.
The deeper I got to know him, the more I saw how thoughtful he could be.
When cramps had me doubled over in cold sweats, he'd show up with homemade ginger tea.
When I was down, he'd go crazy trying to make me laugh again.
During sudden downpours, he'd wrap his jacket around me and carry me through the flooding streets.
Gradually, I fell for that genuine, pure-hearted version of him.
He'd always blush and say he just wanted to take care of me.
So we dated, got married, had our son.
Knowing how proud he was, I helped him behind the scenes.
With my support, he resurrected the dying Montgomery Corporation and became the wealthiest man in the state.
But success changed him—suddenly he was never home.
When I asked him to spend more time with our son, the man who'd promised never to look down on ordinary people sneered at me:
"What the hell does a housewife know? Men are supposed to make money—I don't have time to waste playing house. Without me busting my ass out there, you think you and the kid would have this cushy lifestyle?"
His transformation left me heartbroken and disappointed.
But I stayed grateful to him.
He'd given me good genes—blessed me with a brilliant, amazing son.
I just wanted to focus on raising Mason right.
So I put up with Grayson's crap, made excuse after excuse for him.
Never imagined that all my patience would lead to him knocking up his secretary behind my back.
And getting our son killed because of it.
Losing my boy killed any attachment I had left to this family.
And my love for Grayson?
Stone cold dead.
Found him on the rooftop getting his ass kicked by a bunch of Manhattan trust fund brats.
Even with blood streaming down his face, he gritted his teeth and refused to beg for mercy.
Had to respect that kind of backbone.
So I walked over and shot those guys a look.
The second they saw me, those fearless rich boys went white as sheets and bolted like their asses were on fire.
As they scrambled away, Grayson turned to look at me.
He struggled to his feet, wincing as he warned me: "Those guys are bad news. You shouldn't come up to the roof alone—don't want them targeting you next."
Seeing him beaten to hell but still worried about a stranger made me smile: "Trust me, they won't mess with me."
Grayson took in my plain clothes and thrift store vibe, then snorted: "Come on, don't kid yourself. Those are Manhattan elite—their families run this city. Why would they be scared of some regular girl?"
"Look, I don't judge people for being ordinary, but you don't need to make stuff up to impress me."
His assumption was pretty amusing, so I didn't bother correcting him.
Later I learned his story—third-tier family money, nearly bankrupt, his dad jumped off a building to escape the debt collectors.
Grayson had clawed his way into Columbia on pure merit, determined to rebuild his family's legacy.
Maybe it was because I was so used to spoiled trust fund babies who'd never worked a day in their lives.
But his drive and determination really got to me.
We started talking more and more.
The deeper I got to know him, the more I saw how thoughtful he could be.
When cramps had me doubled over in cold sweats, he'd show up with homemade ginger tea.
When I was down, he'd go crazy trying to make me laugh again.
During sudden downpours, he'd wrap his jacket around me and carry me through the flooding streets.
Gradually, I fell for that genuine, pure-hearted version of him.
He'd always blush and say he just wanted to take care of me.
So we dated, got married, had our son.
Knowing how proud he was, I helped him behind the scenes.
With my support, he resurrected the dying Montgomery Corporation and became the wealthiest man in the state.
But success changed him—suddenly he was never home.
When I asked him to spend more time with our son, the man who'd promised never to look down on ordinary people sneered at me:
"What the hell does a housewife know? Men are supposed to make money—I don't have time to waste playing house. Without me busting my ass out there, you think you and the kid would have this cushy lifestyle?"
His transformation left me heartbroken and disappointed.
But I stayed grateful to him.
He'd given me good genes—blessed me with a brilliant, amazing son.
I just wanted to focus on raising Mason right.
So I put up with Grayson's crap, made excuse after excuse for him.
Never imagined that all my patience would lead to him knocking up his secretary behind my back.
And getting our son killed because of it.
Losing my boy killed any attachment I had left to this family.
And my love for Grayson?
Stone cold dead.
End of When He Chose Her Over Justice, I Chose Revenge Over Love Chapter 47. Continue reading Chapter 48 or return to When He Chose Her Over Justice, I Chose Revenge Over Love book page.