But Grayson hadn’t had time to grieve before his parents had started pressuring him to leave the
business he’d created and return to the family company. The Chandlers were American royalty, and
with the heir now gone, the spare had to step up and perform his duty. Which meant helming Chandler
International and, according to his mother, committing himself to a woman from a respectable
background.
The knot that had started to relax around his throat tightened again, and he jerked at his bow tie. God,
the thought of being back under his father’s thumb, having to answer to Daryl Chandler and the board
full of men just like him... Of having his independence stripped from him... Of having to live by the
constricting rules that governed being a Chandler, one of Chicago’s oldest and wealthiest families...
He was already suffocating.
Fuck, he needed air.
Charging across the ballroom, he didn’t stop until he exited the cavernous space filled with the glitterati
of Chicago. They were supposed to be his friends, his business contacts, his people.
And all he wanted was to escape.
Escape them all.
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