Becoming Lailah: Married to my Twin Sister's Billionaire Husband-Chapter 258: The Demon’s Best Friend

THE LIBRARY DOOR DIDN’T BURST OPEN with a blast of dark magic like they expected. There was no thunder, no shattering glass, and no terrifying roar.

Instead, the heavy mahogany door simply creaked on its hinges, swinging wide to reveal a man who looked like he had just stepped off the cover of a high-end fashion magazine.

He was tall, with a lean build and emerald-green eyes that sparkled with a mix of intelligence and deep-seated mischief.

He had on a simple white t-shirt and dark chinos that still looked expensive in a low-key way. His hair was a bit of a mess, with one stray lock falling over his eyes.

He held a messenger bag in one hand. He froze at the door, staring at the burnt rug and the five tall, soot-covered men.

"Grayson," the man said, his voice smooth and entirely too casual for a room that had just survived a magical meltdown.

The silence that followed was so heavy you could have carved it with a knife.

Grayson’s hand, which had been balled in a fist, relaxed a bit. He stared at the newcomer with a look of pure, unadulterated confusion.

Mailah felt Shadow’s fur go flat against her legs. The cat wasn’t hissing anymore; she was tilting her head, watching the man with curiosity.

"Who are you?" Grayson asked, his voice low and dangerous.

The man laughed. "Oh, very funny. I don’t see you for months because you’re ’finding yourself’ in Italy, and now you’re playing the ’Who Are You’ game? Is this because I forgot your birthday last year? I bought you a vineyard, Gray. Let it go."

The man’s eyes shifted then, landing on Mailah. The humor in his expression vanished, replaced by a sharp, piercing recognition.

He stepped further into the room, ignoring the brothers as if they were nothing more than particularly large pieces of furniture.

"Well, well," he murmured, his gaze sweeping over her Tacocat t-shirt and messy hair. "The resemblance is truly startling. You must be Mailah. Lailah’s twin."

Mailah felt a jolt of electricity go through her. Her breath caught. "You... you knew my sister?"

"Knew her?" The man smiled, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "Grayson wouldn’t stop talking about the ’other’ twin for six months. Said you were the sensible one. The one who actually liked books more than boys." He looked at her soot-covered face. "Though, looking at you now, I might have to disagree on the ’sensible’ part."

"James?"

The voice came from the back of the room.

Ravenson stepped forward, his massive shadow falling over the charred rug. Unlike the other brothers, who looked ready to kill, Raven looked... guilty.

James Webb turned his head, his brow furrowed as he looked at him. "Do I know you? You look like you’ve been through a blender."

"I... no. We haven’t met," Ravenson said quickly.

"Wait," Grayson interrupted, stepping between James and Mailah. The protective instinct was still there, sharp and jagged, even if his memories weren’t. "You claim to be my... friend?"

James snorted. "Best friend. Business partner. The guy who keeps you from filing your taxes incorrectly. James Webb. Ring any bells, or did you hit your head on a statue in Tuscany?"

Grayson looked at his brothers.

Lucson looked at the ceiling. Mason looked at the floor. Carson, ever the agent of chaos, stepped forward with a wide, toothy grin.

"Actually, James," Carson said, leaning on a scorched bookshelf. "He did hit his head. Quite hard. He’s got a bit of a memory problem. For example, he’s currently under the impression that he’s a lonely prince who doesn’t have any friends."

James blinked.

He looked at Grayson, then at the brothers. "Memory loss? Is that why you’ve got four bodyguards in your library? And who are these guys, anyway? Grayson, you never mentioned having a wrestling team on payroll."

"We’re his brothers," Carson chirped.

James’s jaw dropped.

"Brothers?" James turned back to Grayson, his green eyes wide with genuine shock. "You told me your parents were only-children who died in a tragic yachting accident! You told me you were an orphan!"

Grayson looked like he wanted the floor to open up and swallow him whole.

He looked at the brothers, then back at James.

In his mind, he was likely trying to reconcile the image of himself as an ancient, powerful demon with the idea of a human man who thought he was a yacht-accident orphan.

"I... I might have lied," Grayson muttered, his voice lacking its usual authority.

"Might have?" James threw his hands up. "I spent three hours comforting you over a bottle of Scotch on the anniversary of their ’deaths’! I even bought a wreath!"

Mailah couldn’t help it.

Despite the smoke, the danger, and the glowing safe, she felt a giggle bubble up in her chest.

The great, terrifying Prince of Ashford was being scolded by a human about a yacht.

"It’s not funny," Grayson hissed at her, though he didn’t look truly angry. He looked overwhelmed.

"It’s a little bit funny," Mailah whispered back.

James turned his attention back to Mailah. "And you. Why are you here? The last time we talked he told me he was planning to send you away."

Mailah looked at Grayson. Send her away? So he had been talking about her to his human best friend.

"Things changed," Mailah said, her voice softening. She looked at Grayson, seeing the way his eyes were searching hers, desperate for a foothold in the storm of his own mind. "We’re... working on things."

"Working on things?" James looked at the library. "Is that what you call burning down the estate? Look, Gray, I don’t care if you have ten brothers or if you’ve forgotten my name. We have our annual meeting in the morning. And, the downtown project is stalling because you haven’t signed the permits. I’ve been trying to reach you for days for Pete’s sake."

Grayson straightened his shoulders, trying to reclaim his dignity. "I am not signing any permits, James. I have more important matters to attend to."

"Like what? Polishing your safe?" James stepped toward the glowing box on the wall. "By the way, why is that thing humming? Is that a new security system?"

"Don’t touch that!" all five brothers shouted at once.

James jumped back, his hands raised. "Okay! Jeez! Sensitive about the safe. I get it." He looked at Mailah. "Is he always this grumpy when he has amnesia?"

"Usually he’s worse," Mailah said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Grayson walked over to Mailah, his hand resting briefly on her shoulder.

The touch was light, but it felt like a brand. It was a silent claim, a way of telling the world—and James—that she belonged with him, even if he didn’t know why.

"James," Grayson said, his voice regaining some of its princely steel. "I need you to leave. This house is... not safe for you right now."

"Not safe? Gray, I’ve been your partner for ten years. I’ve seen you deal with hostile takeovers and angry exes. I think I can handle a little smoke."

"You don’t understand," Grayson said, his eyes flickering back to that dangerous silver. "The people I’m dealing with now... they don’t use lawyers."

James went quiet.

He looked at Grayson, then at the soot-covered brothers, and finally at Mailah. For a moment, the humor left his face, replaced by a look of deep, unsettling calculation.

"You’re different, Gray," James said quietly. "I noticed it the second I walked in. You look... older. Not in years, but in... weight."

"Leave, James," Grayson replied.

"Well," James said, picking up his briefcase. "If you’re in trouble, you call me. I don’t care about the brothers or the secret safes. You’re my best friend. Even if you are a liar who’s not an orphan."

He looked at Mailah one last time. "It was good to finally meet you, Mailah. Lailah would be... she’d be glad you’re with him."

With a wink and a sharp nod, James Webb turned and walked out of the library, whistling a tune as if he hadn’t just walked into a supernatural war zone.

The silence that returned was different this time. It wasn’t full of tension; it was full of questions.

"Raven," Grayson said, his voice tight. "How do you know him?"

Ravenson rubbed the back of his neck, his huge hand looking like a shovel against his skin. "I... I watched you, Grayson. For those three hundred years you were playing human. I stayed in the shadows. I made sure no other demons came looking for you. I saw you meet him. I saw you build that company."

"And you never told me?" Grayson asked.

"You were happy," Raven whispered. "For the first time since the war, you weren’t a Prince. You were just a man who liked architecture and expensive Scotch. I didn’t want to ruin it."

Grayson looked at the library door where James had disappeared.

He kept trying to imagine it, but having a human for a best friend felt impossible to him.