The sun was beginning to melt into the horizon, casting long golden shadows through the tall windows of Max Carter’s mansion. The quiet hum of the estate outside was a sharp contrast to the still energy pulsing through the main hallway as Max approached Emilia Grace’s room.
She was seated by the bay window, a book open on her lap and her hair pulled into a soft, unintentional bun that seemed to have formed naturally in the day’s rhythm. She looked up at him, one eyebrow raised, sensing something different in his expression.
“You look like a man with a secret,” she said.
Max grinned, and for a moment, he looked nothing like the calculating CEO the world knew. “Maybe I do.”
She tilted her head. “Should I be concerned?”
“That depends,” he said, stepping forward and holding up a silk blin
