The billionaire secret

ia's

a folder of printouts. But for all my research, one thing remained frustratingly

ng on the logistics: what to wear, how to blend in without standing out, and what m

ed my figure without drawing too much attention, a perfect balance between elegant and understated. My goal was to blend in, to look like just another wel

my hair into a loose chignon at the nape of my neck and smoothed the strands that refused to stay in place. Tonight, I was playing a role, and I needed to get it right. I wasn't

nts. A doorman in a crisp uniform stood guard by the entrance, checking names against a guest list. I forced myself to take a ste

as I approached, givi

t, and nodded. "Welcome, Ms.

sed a panoramic view of the city skyline. Soft classical music played in the background, mixing with the murmur of conversation and the clinkin

a strange thrill. It was a game, a dance where each move had to be carefully calculated. I kept my demeano

ul billionaire in his perfectly tailored charcoal suit. His gaze swept the room, and for a moment, our eyes met. I fel

, pretending to be engrossed in conversation with an older woman in p

circling, just as I was, both of us playing a careful game. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I sen

voice low and smooth. "I didn't

verwhelming, and I fought to keep my voice steady. "Mr. Grant," I said, flashing a b

decipher.....amusement, challenge, maybe both. "I

scene for The New York Chronicle. They thought it mi

I held my breath, waiting for him to call my bluff, but instead, h

e said, gesturing to the crowd around us. "Th

ed. "I suppose so. It's a beautif

eaving mine. "I am. But somehow, I don't think

Could he sense the true reason I was here? I felt my heart ham

I said smoothly. "And sometimes, m

nspiratorial whisper. "Is that so? And what,

me off balance at the same time. I could feel the heat of his gaze, the challenge in his tone.

ooking for the story behind the story. The people who m

ther very brave, Ms. Sinclair, or very reckless. Most people

eeling a spark of defiance. "But that's wh

ook a step back, giving me space, but his gaze never wavered. "You certainly know how to keep things interesting,

his challenge head-on. "Thank y

xhaled a shaky breath, feeling the adrenaline surge through me. He knew I was more than just a society journalist. He c

ing out Alexander Grant himself; the man who guarded his secrets so carefully and s

ance. The game of cat and mouse had begun, and there was no turning back now. The

upper hand now, but I wasn't going to let him intimidate me. This was my chance to uncover the truth, and I

me, but I would pla