The Hawthorne House was a fortress of riddles, secrets, and whispers of the past. The sprawling mansion loomed against the night sky, its vast corridors twisting like an unsolved puzzle. It was a place meant to keep people out—or trap them within.

But that had never stopped him before.

The boy who had slipped past countless security systems, walked unseen through the most fortified buildings in the world, and stolen secrets worth more than entire empires. He had no name in the eyes of the law, only a legend whispered in the darkest corners of the underground. He was a ghost, a thief, a hacker, a bounty hunter. And tonight, his target was Avery Kylie Grambs.

A girl who had gone from a nobody to the richest teenager in the world overnight.

He had been paid—an obscene amount—to find out everything about her. What made her tick. What weaknesses she had. Why Tobias Hawthorne, a man she had never met, had rewritten his will to leave her everything.

He started in the library, a vast expanse of towering bookshelves that stretched toward the ceiling like an ancient labyrinth. He moved with practiced ease, scanning for anything—notes, hidden compartments, even a misplaced book. But the Hawthornes were too careful. If answers existed, they weren't here.

So he moved to the only place left: her room.

The room was dark, save for the faint glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. Avery slept soundly, her breathing slow and even. She was curled on her side, her hair a halo around her face, golden strands catching in the moonlight.

He had seen pictures, of course. But in person, she was something else entirely. The kind of beautiful that didn't feel real—hazel eyes that flickered gold and green, sharp and intelligent, framed by dark lashes. She had an air of quiet calculation, even in sleep.

And he was invading her space.

He moved soundlessly, a shadow against the walls, scanning her desk, the books stacked beside her bed. Nothing. Then his gaze landed on a second bookshelf, half-hidden inside her closet.

Carefully, he stepped inside.

The closet smelled faintly of vanilla and something warm—like old paper and the lingering scent of her shampoo. His fingers trailed over the spines of books, searching for anything out of place. A false book, a hidden drawer, a secret clue Tobias might have left behind.

He didn't notice the shift in the room.

Didn't see the way Avery's breathing changed.

Didn't see the way her lashes fluttered open.

Avery woke to the faintest disturbance in the air. The feeling of not being alone.

She had lived in this house long enough to know every creak, every subtle shift in sound. And right now, someone was in her closet.

Her heart pounded, but she stayed still, assessing. The silhouette was barely visible, but she could make out broad shoulders, sharp lines. He moved like he belonged in the darkness, like a shadow given form.