The rain began just before midnight.
Elena Vale stood beneath the narrow awning of the Blackwood Estate, clutching the strap of her handbag with one hand while holding a folded piece of paper in the other.
The paper was already damp at the edges.
She looked up at the enormous iron gates in front of her.
They were beautiful in a way that made her uneasy.
Black metal twisted into elaborate patterns, ending in sharp points at the top. Beyond them stretched a long private road surrounded by dark trees. At the end of it stood the Blackwood mansion, barely visible through the rain.
It didn't look like a home.
It looked like a fortress.
Elena took a slow breath.
"This is just a job," she whispered to herself.
A job.
Nothing more.
She needed the money. She needed somewhere to start over, somewhere far enough from her old life that she wouldn't have to keep looking over her shoulder.
And according to the employment agency, the position was simple.
Live-in personal assistant.
Good salary.
Private residence.
Strict confidentiality.
She had almost laughed when she'd read that last part.
Who needed a confidentiality agreement for an assistant?
Now, standing outside the Blackwood Estate at nearly midnight, she understood.
The gates opened without a sound.
Elena froze.
She hadn't seen anyone approach them.
A black luxury car rolled slowly toward her and stopped several feet away.
The rear door opened.
A man stepped out.
He was dressed entirely in black.
Tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Impossibly composed.
Rain slid from the shoulders of his coat as he walked toward her, his expression unreadable.
Elena's fingers tightened around her bag.
"Miss Vale?"
His voice was low and calm.
"Yes."
"You're late."
She glanced at the clock on her phone.
"By three minutes."
His eyes settled on her.
For some reason, that made her feel as though she'd made a much bigger mistake.
"I was told midnight."
"It is midnight."
She frowned.
"Then I'm not late."
For the first time, something almost resembling amusement flickered across his face.
Almost.
"You have a habit of arguing with people you just met?"
"Only when they're wrong."
Silence.
The rain seemed louder.
The man's gaze moved over her face, lingering for a moment before returning to her eyes.
"Interesting."
Elena didn't know why that single word made her uncomfortable.
"Are you Mr. Blackwood?"
"No."
He turned toward the mansion.
"I work for him."
Of course.
Elena followed him through the gates.
She didn't notice the security cameras until they were already inside.
There were more than she could count.
Small black lenses hidden beneath the roofline, inside decorative columns, near the garden walls.
She slowed.
"What kind of person needs this much security?"
The man stopped walking.
He looked back at her.
"Someone important."
"Important enough to need armed guards?"
His expression hardened.
"You notice too much."
Elena immediately regretted asking.
The mansion doors opened before they reached them.
A middle-aged woman stood inside.
"Miss Vale," she said warmly. "I'm Mrs. Hawthorne. Come in before you catch a cold."
Elena stepped inside.
Warmth surrounded her.
The entrance hall was enormous, decorated with dark wood, marble floors, and golden chandeliers. Everything was elegant, expensive, and strangely cold.
She glanced over her shoulder.
The man who had escorted her was already walking away.
"Wait."
He stopped.
"What's your name?"
He looked at her.
"Adrian."
Then he disappeared into the darkness of the corridor.
Elena stared after him.
Something about him bothered her.
She couldn't explain what.
Maybe it was the way he watched her.
Maybe it was the complete lack of emotion in his face.
Or maybe it was simply the feeling she'd had from the moment she'd entered the gates.
Someone was watching.
Someone had been watching before she even arrived.
"Don't worry about him."
Mrs. Hawthorne's voice pulled Elena from her thoughts.
"Who is he?"
Mrs. Hawthorne hesitated.
Then she smiled.
"Mr. Blackwood's right hand."
That didn't answer the question.
Before Elena could ask anything else, Mrs. Hawthorne picked up her suitcase.
"Your room is upstairs. Mr. Blackwood expects you to begin tomorrow morning."
"Tomorrow?"
"Seven o'clock."
Elena stared at her.
"I just arrived."
"I know."
Mrs. Hawthorne smiled apologetically.
"Welcome to the Blackwood household."
---
Elena barely slept.
The room was beautiful.
Too beautiful.
A massive four-poster bed stood against one wall. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the gardens. A small fireplace warmed the room, and fresh flowers sat beside the bed.
But Elena couldn't relax.
Every time she closed her eyes, she remembered Adrian.
The stranger at the gate.
The way he'd looked at her.
The way he'd said her name.
She turned onto her side.
"This is ridiculous."
She had met hundreds of people in her life.
Why was one man bothering her so much?
Eventually exhaustion won.
She fell asleep.
And dreamed of nothing.
---
At exactly seven in the morning, someone knocked on her door.
Elena woke instantly.
She sat up, confused.
Another knock.
"Miss Vale?"
"I'm awake."
She hurried out of bed and opened the door.
Mrs. Hawthorne stood outside.
"Mr. Blackwood wants to see you."
Elena's stomach tightened.
"Now?"
"Now."
She followed Mrs. Hawthorne downstairs.
The mansion looked completely different in daylight.
It was less frightening.
But not less imposing.
They stopped outside a large set of double doors.
Mrs. Hawthorne knocked once.
"Come in."
Elena entered.
Adrian Blackwood stood beside the enormous windows overlooking the gardens.
He wasn't wearing the black coat from last night.
Instead, he wore a perfectly fitted white shirt with the sleeves rolled to his forearms.
He looked younger in daylight.
And somehow more dangerous.
His eyes moved toward her.
"Close the door."
Elena did.
He pointed toward the chair opposite his desk.
"Sit."
She sat.
He remained standing.
"Do you know who I am?"
Elena frowned.
"You're Mr. Blackwood."
His expression didn't change.
"That's not what I asked."
She hesitated.
"No."
He walked toward the desk.
"Good."
He placed a folder in front of her.
"This contains everything you need to know about your position."
Elena opened it.
Her responsibilities were listed clearly.
Schedule management.
Private correspondence.
Household organization.
Travel arrangements.
Confidential documents.
She looked up.
"That's a lot."
"You'll be compensated accordingly."
"I noticed."
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"You'll also follow certain rules."
"What kind of rules?"
"No guests."
"Fine."
"No leaving the estate after dark without informing security."
Elena paused.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
She closed the folder.
"That's not a good enough reason."
Adrian's gaze sharpened.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Then he leaned forward slightly.
"You don't know this city as well as you think you do."
"Neither do you, apparently, if you think giving orders makes people trust you."
A dangerous silence filled the room.
Elena immediately wondered whether she'd gone too far.
But Adrian didn't get angry.
Instead, he smiled.
It was the first genuine smile she'd seen from him.
And somehow, it was worse than his cold expression.
"You really aren't afraid of me."
"I don't know you well enough to be afraid of you."
His smile disappeared.
"You should be."
Elena felt a chill run down her spine.
Before she could respond, Adrian turned toward the window.
"Your first assignment begins tonight."
"What is it?"
"You'll accompany me to a private dinner."
Elena blinked.
"Why?"
"Because I need someone I trust."
She almost laughed.
"We met last night."
"I know."
He looked back at her.
"And yet you're still here."
Elena didn't understand what he meant.
But as she stood to leave, Adrian's eyes followed her.
He watched until the door closed behind her.
Only then did his expression change.
The folder on his desk wasn't the only file he'd prepared.
Beneath it was another one.
Much older.
Inside were photographs of Elena.
Photographs taken long before she'd ever applied for the job.
Adrian slowly opened the file.
His eyes settled on her face.
For months, he'd watched her from a distance.
He knew where she'd worked.
He knew where she'd lived.
He knew about the night her life had fallen apart.
And most importantly, he knew something Elena didn't.
The tragedy that had destroyed her family hadn't been an accident.
It had been connected to the Blackwoods.
And now she had walked directly into his house.
Adrian closed the folder.
For the first time in years, something dangerously close to obsession stirred inside him.
He had spent months telling himself that bringing Elena here was about protecting her.
That was the lie.
The truth was much simpler.
He wanted her close.
And now that she was finally within his reach, he had no intention of letting her go.