Rain battered the towering glass walls of the Kingston Hotel hard enough to rattle them. Outside, the city drowned beneath sheets of dirty silver water and flashing headlights. Inside, warmth and luxury swallowed everything. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. Expensive perfume mixed with cigar smoke. Wealthy elites drifted across the marble floor with the lazy confidence of people born believing the world belonged to them.And in the center of that polished, glittering world stood Ethan Cole.He looked painfully out of place.His black suit was old enough to show wear around the cuffs, the fabric stretched slightly across his broad shoulders. Compared to the custom-tailored tuxedos surrounding him, he looked almost embarrassing. Guests glanced at him, then quickly away again, lips curling with restrained mockery. Even the waiters avoided lingering near him too long, as though poverty itself might stain their uniforms.Across from him stood Sophia Bennett.Beautiful. Untouchable.

The heavy banquet doors slammed shut behind Ryan Parker.His screams echoed briefly through the corridor outside before disappearing beneath the roar of the storm.Then silence crept back into the hall.Not the comfortable silence from earlier in the evening. This one felt heavy. Uneasy. The kind that settled over a room after something irreversible happened.Broken crystal glittered across the marble floor. Red wine spread slowly beneath overturned chairs. Several guests still stood frozen exactly where they had been moments ago, too stunned to move, as if shifting even slightly might attract Ethan Cole’s attention.Sophia Bennett could barely feel her legs.Her eyes drifted over the destruction Ryan had left behind—the shattered glass, the scattered photographs, the streaks of wine staining the floor like blood.Then she looked at Ethan.And regret crashed into her chest so violently it almost hurt to breathe.Three years.Three years of cold looks. Of silence. Of watching her famil

Rainwater ran down Sophia Bennett’s neck and disappeared beneath the collar of her dress.She had stopped trying to stay dry a long time ago.The silver gown she wore to the anniversary banquet hung heavy against her skin now, stained dark at the hem where mud splashed up from the gravel road. One heel had sunk deep enough into the wet ground to leave dirt smeared across the side.The guards at the estate entrance barely acknowledged her anymore.One stood beneath the floodlight with rain dripping from the edge of his cap while another spoke quietly into an earpiece, eyes fixed on the forest surrounding the cliffs.Sophia folded her arms tighter against herself.Cold water clung to her eyelashes every time she blinked.Behind the iron gates, the Cole Estate sat heavy against the coastline. Warm lights burned through towering windows while rain hammered the stone walls without mercy. From this distance, the mansion didn’t look luxurious.It looked untouchable.A black sedan rolled slow

Rain hammered the stone arches above the courtyard.Nobody spoke after the assassin whispered into Ethan’s ear.The guards standing nearby exchanged uneasy looks. Even Augustus went still beside the archway, his hand locked around the head of his cane while red emergency lights flashed across the wet marble.The prisoner smiled through blood.He knew exactly what those three words had done.Ethan stayed crouched in front of him for another second.Then he stood.Slowly.Rainwater slid from his sleeves onto the floor.“What did he say?” Augustus asked.Ethan didn’t answer.That alone tightened the old man’s expression.Because Ethan always answered operational questions. Always. Silence usually meant one thing.Something personal.The wounded assassin laughed weakly again. Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth.“She remembers you,” he muttered.One of the guards grabbed the man by the collar. “Shut your mouth.”The prisoner ignored him completely.“She said the scar still looks ugly

The basement went silent after the guard spoke. Water dripped steadily from the pipe near the ceiling. Somewhere farther down the corridor, metal doors clanged shut. Ethan’s face revealed nothing. But Sophia noticed his right hand close slowly into a fist before relaxing again. Small. Fast. Most people would’ve missed it. She didn’t. The guard swallowed under Ethan’s stare. “The transmission came through one of the dead security channels.” “Voice or text?” Augustus asked. “Voice distortion.” The guard hesitated. “But she left a name.” Ethan looked at him. The guard’s throat bobbed once. “She called herself Scarlett.” The assassin in the chair started laughing immediately. Weak. Broken. Still laughing. “There it is,” he wheezed. “The ghost finally has a name again.” Sophia watched Ethan carefully. Scarlett. Not confusion. Recognition. Deep enough to hurt. The kind people carry in their bones. Augustus struck the concrete floor once with his cane. “Location.”