Arden didn’t movefor a long time.
The quiet in the bar wasn’t real silence; it never was. Ice clinked in a glass across the room. Someone muttered near the jukebox. Overhead, the hum of dim lights prickled at her skin—low and grating.
But inside her, quietude gathered: sharp, intentional, waiting.
She ran her thumb along the edge of the card in her pocket, the matte finish snagged faintly against her skin, all friction and memory. Clean. Unmistakable. As deliberate as the man who left it behind.
She didn’t believe in fate. Not really. But timing? Timing had teeth. She exhaled and reached for the rag on the counter—routine, motion—anything to ground her before her mind pulled her places she wasn’t ready to go.
Gideon Blackwell.
She hadn’t known his name until thirty seconds ago. Now, it echoed through her like a warning. Or a promise.
He hadn’t said much, but he didn’t have to.
She’d met men who talked too much. Bragged. Overshared.
Gideon didn’t do that. He watched. He listened. And—somewhere in between, he’d seen straight through her armor.
That wasn’t something she was used to. It unsettled her. Worse—it intrigued her. She shook it off ortriedto.
The door creaked open again, and she tensed; it was just a couple of locals stumbling in, laughing too loud and tracking in wet leaves.
“Last call’s in fifteen,” she called out, voice steady. Neutral.
Her hands moved automatically: bottles, glasses, cleanup. But her mind? It hadn’t left that card. The city. The offer. The fact that he hadn’t asked for anything… but she felt the weight of his question anyway.
You ever take a leap?
She’d leapt before. Out of obligation. Out of desperation. Neverjust… to see where she’d land.
Arden glanced at the clock: 12:46 AM.
Dot had already slipped into the back room, the usual end-of-night shuffle beginning. Chairs turned up. Lights dimming.
Her fingers brushed the edge of the card again. There. Real. The possibilities were forming behind her eyes, faster than she could stop them.
She didn’t trust easily. And she sure as hell didn’t chase men in tailored suits who whispered about leaps and left storms in their wake.
But tonight, there had been a shift. She felt it in her bones.
Arden wiped the final glass clean, locked up the cash drawer, andturned toward the door.
The wind howled as she stepped outside. Low storm clouds clung to the horizon, swollen and electric.
And beneath them?
Something unnamed. Unshaped.
But pulling her forward, just the same.
CHAPTER 2
Bloodlines & Boundaries
Sunlight flared against glass and steel as Gideon Blackwell stepped out of the sleek black sedan. Hawthorne Holdings loomed above him: sleek, imposing, unapologetically modern. A monolith built on ambition and legacy. His grandfather’s vision. His inheritance.
It was the backbone of an empire. A source of pride. And a weight he could never put down.
