THE BUSINESS MAN'S MYSTERIOUS SECRET

CHAPTER-3 : THE FIRST NIGHT

Allisha returned to Blackwood Mansion the next morning, but it didn't feel return. It felt like she was being summoned back to a place that had already decided to swallow her whole.

The car that the company had sent for her- a sleek, black mercedes that looked too expansive to even touch- had barely stopped at the massive iron gates when her breath caught in her throat. The gates were taller than she remembered, at least twelve feet high,with intricate carving of wolves and thorny roses twisted into the metal.They creaked open slowly on their own,as of an invisible hand was pulling them.No guard,no bottom.Just a silent, heavy movement.

She stood at the entrance with two old,slightly broken suitcases staring at the enormous house that now loomed over her.The suitcases were faded blue,one of the zippers held together with a safety pin, the handle of the other wrapped in tap.They looked painfully out of place against the pristine gravel driveway.

It was not just big.It was ancient, cold and silent, as if it was watching her.The Blackwood mansion was not a house,it was a statement. Built of dark grey stone,with ivy crawling up its like veins,it had over fifty Windows, but not a single one showed any light or movement. The sky above it was overcast, even through the rest of the city was sunny.The air around the mansion was at least five degrees colder.

She still couldn't believe that she was going to live there.Just a week ago,she was struggling to pay rent for a tiny one room apartment where the ceiling leaked Whenever it rained,where she could hear her neighbours fighting through the thin walls,working double shifts at a small,noisy cafe on 5 th street where the manager shouted at her for every small mistake. She had $43 in her bank account and a final notice from her landlord taped to her door.

And now,she had been hired as the personal assistant to Dravid Grover, the most feared and mysterious billionaire in the city.The name alone made people in her old cafe whisper.Dravid Grover heir to the Blackwood empire,a man who never gave interviews,never appeared at parties, whose photos were blurred and rare on the internet. They said he was ruthless in business, that he had destroyed companies with a single signature. They said he was a ghost.

The salary he offered was ten times more than she had ever imagined. Enough to pay off her mother's hospital bills,enough to finally live without fear.All she had to do was live in the mansion and be available 24/7.The contract had been strange through.Clause 7: you will not enter the west wing under any circumstances. Clause 9:Do not ask questions about the noises at night. Clause 12:You must obey Mr. Grover without question after 9 pm.

She had signed it anyway. Desperation makes you ignore red flags.

A maid,a stern-faced woman in her fifties,took her luggage without a word and started walking upstairs. Her steps were heavy and deliberate. She was dressed in a strict black and white uniform,her grey hair pulled back into such a tight bun that it seemed to sketch her skin.Her face showed no emotion. She didn't say "welcome " or "hello" or even look at Allisha properly.

"This will be your room," the woman said,opening a door at the end of the long,dark hallway on the second floor.Her voice was flat and cold.

Allisha looked around and her eyes widened.It was not a staff room.It was a suite bigger than her entire old apartment. A massive four -poster bed with silk sheets in the centre, a fireplace that was already lit, a walk in closet,a balcony the overlooked the vast,the dark forest behind the mansion and a bathroom with a bathtub that looked like a small pool.On the bed there was a small,black box.

"Mr.Grover has left this for you", the maid said.gesturing to the box." He said you must wear it tonight for dinner. Dinner is at exactly 8 pm in the main dinning hall.Don't be late.He hates people who are late".And with that,she left,closing the heavy wooden door with a soft but final thud.

Allisha was alone.The silence of the room was deafening. She could hear her own heartbeat.

Slowly, she walked to the bed and opened the black box.Inside,there was a blood red dress.It was stunning. Long elegant, made of the softest fabric she had ever touched.And next to it,a small note in a sharp, masculine handwriting.

Wear this-D.G.

Why would her boss give her a dress?Her hands started to tremble. This was no longer feeling like a personal assistant job.

She looked out of the window. The forest behind the mansion was dence and dark.And for a second, she thought she saw a figure standing among the trees,looking directly up at her window. A tall figure in the black coat.

She stepped back from the window, her heart pounding.

The clock on the wall showed 7.30pm.She had thirty minutes. And she had a feeling that this first night in Blackwood mansion was going to change her life forever, and not in the way she had hoped.

Night was falling, and the mansion was starting to wake up.She could hear faint footsteps from the floor above her,slow,deliberate footsteps, pacing. And then, a door closing somewhere far away in the West Wing -the wing she was forbidden to enter.

Allisha realized she was not just an employee here.She was a prisoner who had just willingly walked into her own gilded cage.