Page 5 of Secret Heir For The Billionaire Twin

"None beyond the obvious confidentiality agreements surrounding proprietary information."

That, at least, makes sense. I'm not there to uncover trade secrets.

I'm there to tell a story.

The real story.

"Who's handling communications?" I ask.

"Adrian Blackwell."

I nod to myself.

That name I recognize immediately. Adrian Blackwell is practically synonymous with the company in the public eye. He's the brother who gives keynote speeches, sits for interviews, attends charity galas, and somehow manages to look relaxed in front of a hundred cameras at once. He's polished without appearing rehearsed, confident without drifting into arrogance. I've watched enough of his interviews to know he's remarkably good at making people feel comfortable. Almost too good.

"And Julian?"

There's a brief pause.

"We weren't told much."

"I've barely seen him in photographs."

"Most people haven't."

I've noticed that over the years. Whenever articles mention the Blackwell brothers, Adrian is almost always the one smiling at the camera. Julian appears only occasionally, usually in candid photographs leaving board meetings or walking into charity events. Even then, he never seems to acknowledge the photographers. No wave. No smile. No attempt to perform for anyone watching.

He has the reputation of being intensely private. Some articles call him brilliant. Others call him impossible to read. Nearly all of them agree on one thing. He avoids attention whenever he can.

"So what's the assignment exactly?" I ask.

"I want a feature that goes beyond quarterly earnings and anniversary celebrations."

Grace's voice becomes more thoughtful.

"I want the people behind the company. I want the family that built it. I want readers to understand how an empire survives for forty years without losing itself. If there are fractures, I want those too. If there are triumphs, earn them honestly."

A slow smile spreads across my face.

Now she's speaking my language.

"I don't care about press releases," she continues.

"I care about people."

"So do I."

"I know."

Another brief silence follows before she says, more quietly, "That's why I'm giving this to you."

I close my eyes for a moment. Grace isn't generous with praise. She doesn't need to be. When she trusts someone with a story, that trust says everything.

"I appreciate that."

"You've earned it."

"I'll try not to disappoint you."