Greyson Black rarely spoke of his family. In fact, Amanda had noticed early on that the subject seemed to vanish whenever it surfaced, replaced by silence or a sharp change of topic. But tonight, as they worked late in his office, the conversation took an unexpected turn.
Amanda was reviewing a contract when she noticed a framed photograph tucked discreetly on the corner of his desk. It was old, the edges worn, showing a younger Greyson with a boyish smile beside a woman who looked strikingly like him.
Amanda hesitated. "Is that your mother?"
Greyson's gaze flicked to the photo, his jaw tightening. "It was."
The weight in his voice made Amanda pause. She set her pen down, her tone gentle. "You don't talk about her."
Greyson leaned back, his eyes darkening. "She died when I was young. My father... he was never the same. Neither was I."
Amanda's chest tightened. She had seen Greyson command boardrooms, silence executives, and bend the city to his will. But here, in this moment, he looked almost fragile.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
Greyson's lips curved faintly, though it wasn't a smile. "Don't be. Loss teaches you things. It teaches you not to rely on anyone. Not to trust."
Amanda shook her head softly. "Or it teaches you how much trust matters. How much connection matters."
His eyes lingered on her, searching, as though her words unsettled him. "You think I should reconnect with them? My father? My sister?"
Amanda nodded. "I think you carry too much alone. Maybe letting them back in would ease that weight."
Greyson turned toward the window, the city lights reflecting in his eyes. For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, his voice dropped, quieter than she had ever heard it. "I don't know if I can. I don't know if they'd even want me back."
Amanda stepped closer, her voice steady. "You'll never know unless you try. And if you do... you might find that love isn't weakness. It's strength."
The silence stretched, charged with something unspoken. Greyson's gaze softened, his armor cracking just slightly. "You make it sound so simple."
Amanda smiled faintly. "Sometimes the hardest things are the simplest."
Greyson studied her, his expression unreadable, but Amanda felt the shift. For the first time, he wasn't the billionaire commanding the world. He was a man haunted by ghosts, standing at the edge of vulnerability — and she was the one daring him to step forward.