Amanda had never seen anything like it. The wrought-iron gates of Greyson Black's estate opened slowly, revealing a long driveway lined with lanterns that glowed against the evening sky. At the end stood the mansion — a masterpiece of stone and glass, its towering windows reflecting the city lights in the distance.
She clutched her folder of documents, reminding herself this was work. Greyson had asked her to deliver the finalized merger summary personally, insisting it couldn't wait until morning. Still, as the driver escorted her up the steps, Amanda couldn't ignore the flutter in her chest.
The door opened before she could knock. Greyson stood there, no suit this time — just a crisp white shirt, sleeves rolled, collar undone. The sight startled her; he looked less like the billionaire she knew and more like a man at ease in his own world.
"Miss Evans," he said, his voice low, smooth. "You're punctual. Again."
Amanda smiled nervously. "I didn't want to keep you waiting."
He gestured for her to enter. The interior was breathtaking — marble floors, chandeliers dripping with crystal, walls adorned with art that seemed to belong in museums. Yet despite the grandeur, the space felt... quiet. Almost lonely.
Greyson led her into a study lined with bookshelves. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm light across the room. Amanda handed him the folder, but he set it aside without opening it.
"You work hard," he said, pouring two glasses of wine. "Most people would have left this for tomorrow."
Amanda hesitated as he handed her a glass. "I wanted to prove I could be trusted."
Greyson's gaze lingered on her, intense and unyielding. "Trust is rare in my world. People want what I have. They'll smile to my face and betray me the moment I turn away."
Amanda's voice softened. "Not everyone is like that."
He studied her for a long moment, then looked toward the fire. "Maybe not. But I've learned to expect it."
The silence stretched, filled only by the crackle of flames. Amanda sipped her wine, her pulse quickening. She felt the weight of his presence, the way his voice carried both strength and vulnerability.
Finally, Greyson turned back to her. "You intrigue me, Amanda. You walk into this world of power and wealth, but you don't seem blinded by it. You see more than the surface."
Amanda's breath caught. "Maybe I see the man behind it."
For the first time, Greyson's expression softened into something almost tender. He leaned closer, his voice dropping. "That's dangerous, Amanda. Because once you see the man, you might not be able to walk away."
Her heart raced, the air between them charged with something unspoken. She wasn't sure if it was warning or invitation — perhaps both.
As the firelight flickered across his face, Amanda realized she was standing at the edge of something far larger than herself. Greyson Black's mansion wasn't just a fortress of wealth; it was a glimpse into the solitude of a man who had everything... except love.