Chapter 1: The Girl Next Door
The first thing people noticed about the Miller Mansion wasn't its towering gates or the endless stretch of manicured gardens.
It was how quiet it was.
Too quiet.
For a home that belonged to one of the wealthiest families in the country, it lacked warmth. The marble halls echoed with silence, the dining table was always set for two but occupied by one, and the only sound that ever broke the stillness was the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the foyer.
Emilia Miller had grown used to it.
At eighteen, she'd stopped waiting for her father to come home before dinner. Stopped expecting birthday breakfasts. Stopped hoping he'd ask about her day.
Sean Miller loved her.
She never doubted that.
He simply didn't know how to show it.
So instead of spending another lonely Saturday inside the mansion, Emilia grabbed her car keys and headed to the only place that had ever felt like home.
The Hawthorne Estate.
---
"You're late!"
Camila Hawthorne practically launched herself off the front porch the second Emilia stepped out of her car.
"I've been waiting forever!"
Emilia laughed as her best friend wrapped her in a dramatic hug.
"You've been waiting for ten minutes."
"Twenty."
"It was ten."
"It felt like twenty."
They burst into laughter.
If someone had asked Emilia to describe happiness, it would look exactly like this.
Camila had been her first friend.
Her first sister.
The person who had held her hand on the first day of school, sneaked into her room for midnight movie marathons, and celebrated every birthday when her father couldn't.
Without the Hawthornes...
She wasn't sure she would've survived her childhood.
"Mom's making lunch," Camila said, linking their arms together. "And she's already complaining that you skipped breakfast again."
Emilia groaned dramatically.
"I knew she'd notice."
"Lillian notices everything."
They walked inside together.
The scent of freshly baked bread, roasted chicken, and vanilla filled the air.
It smelled like family.
"There's my other daughter!"
Lillian Hawthorne emerged from the kitchen wearing a flour-dusted apron before pulling Emilia into a warm embrace.
"You've gotten thinner."
"Lillian..."
"No arguments. You're eating."
Camila smirked.
"Told you."
Emilia smiled despite herself.
If she believed in second chances, Lillian was hers.
---
Lunch passed with laughter.
Stories.
Endless teasing.
For a while...
Emilia forgot how lonely home felt.
Until—
The front door opened.
Heavy footsteps echoed across the hallway.
A scent unlike anything she'd ever known drifted through the room.
Fresh rain.
Cedar wood.
And something wild.
Camila's eyes lit up.
"Dad!"
Emilia's heart skipped.
Killian Hawthorne stepped inside, shrugging off his black overcoat.
At forty-two, he looked nothing like the businessmen who spent their lives hidden behind office desks.
He stood well over six feet, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his charcoal shirt. His hair—a mixture of dark brown and black—was slightly tousled from the wind, while piercing blue eyes scanned the room with quiet authority.
Power seemed to follow him wherever he went.
He wasn't loud.
He didn't need to be.
Every conversation in the room paused for just a heartbeat when he entered.
Including Emilia's.
She hated that her heart still reacted this way.
She'd spent years convincing herself it was just admiration.
That eventually she'd grow out of it.
She hadn't.
"Welcome home," Lillian said warmly.
Killian nodded before embracing Camila.
"How's my favorite troublemaker?"
"I was never trouble."
He raised an eyebrow.
"You convinced your mother to let you dye the dog pink when you were twelve."
Camila grinned unapologetically.
"It washed out."
"After three weeks."
Everyone laughed.
Everyone except Emilia.
She was too busy pretending she hadn't been staring.
Killian's gaze shifted.
For one brief moment...
Their eyes met.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
"Hello, Emilia."
His deep voice wrapped around her name effortlessly.
"H-hi."
Smooth.
Very smooth.
She mentally groaned.
Killian offered a small smile.
"It's good to see you."
"You too."
Please stop blushing.
Please.
Camila looked between them suspiciously before shrugging.
"You two are so awkward."
"We're not awkward," Emilia protested a little too quickly.
Killian hid an amused smile.
"No?"
"No."
Camila snorted.
"You sound guilty."
"I'm literally standing here."
"Exactly."
Lillian shook her head.
"You children haven't changed."
Children.
Emilia forced herself to smile.
Because that's what they still were in Killian's eyes.
Wasn't it?
---
Later that evening, Emilia stood alone on the Hawthorne balcony overlooking the gardens.
The sunset painted the sky in shades of orange and crimson.
She exhaled slowly.
"What am I doing..."
She wasn't a child anymore.
She knew the difference between fantasy and reality.
Killian Hawthorne was impossible.
He was older.
Her best friend's father.
And a man who had always treated her with kindness, never anything more.
This crush...
It had to end.
She had promised herself that after her eighteenth birthday tomorrow, she'd let it go.
She'd move on.
Meet someone her own age.
Forget about the man she could never have.
Behind the glass doors, Killian glanced toward the balcony.
His blue eyes lingered on the young woman staring at the horizon.
For reasons he couldn't explain...
He found himself watching her a little longer than he should.
Then he looked away.
Neither of them knew...
That by this time tomorrow, fate itself would rewrite their lives forever.