Christian Grey sat with his back to the room, facing the sprawling cityscape that stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of his top-floor office. The room was bathed in a muted glow from the overcast sky outside, casting soft shadows across the polished glass surfaces and sleek, minimalist furnishings. The office was as meticulously arranged as the man who occupied it—everything in its precise place, with no detail too small to escape his scrutiny.

Behind him, the door clicked open softly, barely a disturbance in the otherwise silent space. you stepped in, feeling the weight of the room’s chill—not just from the air conditioning, but from the palpable atmosphere of control and power that seemed to emanate from the very walls. The air was sharp with the scent of expensive leather and faint cologne, understated but unmistakable.

Without turning, Grey finally spoke, his voice calm but laced with an undeniable authority.

“I assume you’re here for the interview.”