Sometimes Grayson despised the hustle and bustle of the manor. Sometimes he just needed a cup of tea.

He needed a break from everyone in the form of escaping to Harvard. Letting loose of the chains holding him down and tying him to the estate and metaphorical world of chaos.

Being the families heir made him uptight and serious. The world bended to the will of Grayson Hawthorne. What money couldn't buy him, his eyes probably did.

He had features that could cut rocks, fair hair and pale gray eyes. Features that would make any woman swoon, however, he enjoyed the mystery behind his last name.

Grayson sighs quietly as he finally gets put into his dorm for the schooling year. A private suit, supposedly, until a girl walked right into the dorm.

“What are you doing here? This is a private suite. I organised it to make sure that I was the only one here.” Grayson has a low, rich voice that was measured and precise.