LOGINEliam stared at the name on his phone. Avaline Hart. The message from Eleanor remained open.
I found the name connected to the old investigation. Nothing else. No explanation. No details. Just a name. And somehow, that made it worse. Because Eliam knew his grandmother, Eleanor Blackwood, did not send incomplete information unless the missing pieces were dangerous. He looked at Gabriella sleeping peacefully. A child who had no idea that adults were once again fighting over the shadows of her past. His fingers tightened around the phone. “Who are you, Avaline Hart?” The next morning, Blackwood Tower woke before the city did. Employees arrived before sunrise. Security teams checked every entrance. Assistants prepared schedules. Executives prepared for meetings. And at the center of it all was Eliam Blackwood. The man who never appeared unprepared. The man who never showed weakness. The man everyone believed had no fear. But inside his office, he stood alone, staring at a file on his desk. AVALINE HART Age: twenty-seven. Occupation: Kindergarten teacher. No criminal record. No financial problems. No suspicious activity. At first glance, she was ordinary. Too ordinary. That was what bothered him. People who entered his world were never ordinary. Everyone wanted something. Money. Power. Protection. Revenge. He had learned that lesson the hard way. His assistant knocked before entering. “Mr. Blackwood?” “Come in.” She placed a folder on his desk. “The school event schedule you requested.” Eliam glanced at it. “Gabriella’s school?” “Yes.” He nodded. “Cancel my meetings tomorrow morning.” His assistant looked surprised. “You’re attending?” “Yes.” She quickly lowered her eyes. “Of course.” After she left, Eliam leaned back in his chair. He hated admitting it. But Gabriella had asked him to attend. And he had promised. Promises were the one thing he never broke. At the same time, across the city, Avaline Hart stood in front of a mirror. She barely recognized herself. Soft beige sweater. Simple skirt. Hair tied back. A gentle smile. The perfect kindergarten teacher. The perfect disguise. But beneath the innocent appearance was a woman trained to read danger before it arrived. Her eyes moved to the small photo sitting beside the mirror. Her and Noah. Her younger brother. The only person who had ever made her feel human. She picked up the picture. “I’m going to fix this.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “I promise.” A knock sounded. She quickly hid the photo. The door opened. Noah stepped inside. At nineteen, he still had the same kind eyes he had as a child. The kind that made Avaline feel guilty every time she lied to him. “You’re leaving early?” She smiled. “School starts early.” He studied her face. “You look tired.” “I’m fine.” “You always say that.” She laughed softly. “Because I usually am.” He didn’t believe her. Noah had become quieter over the years. More observant. He knew something was wrong. He didn’t know what. “You know you can tell me things, right?” The question hurt. Because she wanted to, she wanted to tell him everything. About Dante. About the threats. About the choices she had made. But truth was dangerous. And danger always found the people you loved. “I know.” Noah smiled slightly. “Good.” He left. Avaline waited until the door closed. Then she released the breath she had been holding. Her phone buzzed -a message. Do not forget why you are doing this. Dante. She stared at the screen. Then deleted it. Not because she was free. She wasn’t. But because for one second, she wanted to pretend she was. The school event was louder than Eliam expected. Children running. Parents laughing. Teachers organizing activities. A world opposite to his own. He stood near the entrance in a black suit, surrounded by security. Every person noticed him. Some recognized him. Some whispered. But he ignored them. His attention was only on one person. Gabriella. She held his hand as they walked through the hallway. “Eli?” “Yes?” “Can you smile today?” He looked down. “Why?” “Because everyone thinks you’re angry.” He raised an eyebrow. “I am not angry.” Gabriella tilted her head. “You look angry.” A small smile almost appeared. Almost. “I’ll try.” She squeezed his hand. “Good.” Then she saw someone. Her entire face changed. “Miss Hart!” Before Eliam could react, Gabriella ran toward a woman kneeling beside a group of children. Avaline. She turned at the sound of her name. And for a brief moment… everything stopped. Eliam saw a woman who didn’t look afraid of him. Didn’t look impressed by his wealth. Didn’t look interested in his reputation. She smiled at his sister. “Gabriella.” The little girl hugged her. “I told you my brother would come.” Avaline looked up. Her eyes met Eliam’s. And something strange happened. She recognized him instantly. Not from newspapers. Not from television. From memory. From a night years ago. A photograph. A name. A family she had helped destroy. But she hid it quickly. Because that was what she was trained to do: hide, lie, survive. “Mr. Blackwood,” she said politely. Her voice was calm. Too calm. Eliam studied her. “Miss Hart.” A pause. “Gabriella speaks highly of you.” “She’s a wonderful child.” “I know.” The words came out softer than he intended. Avaline noticed. For one second, she saw something behind the cold billionaire image. A man who loved his sister. A man carrying pain. A man who had no idea she was standing in front of the person connected to his greatest loss. Gabriella looked between them. Then smiled. “You both look sad.” They froze. “What?” Eliam asked. She shrugged. “Your eyes.” Avaline looked away. Because Gabriella was right, they were both carrying ghosts -the same kind. The kind nobody else could see. Then Gabriella reached for Avaline’s hand. “Miss Hart, can you come to my house?” Eliam immediately looked down. “Gabriella.” “What?” “You can’t invite people home without asking.” She frowned. “Why?” “Because—” He stopped. He didn’t have an answer. Avaline smiled gently. “I think your brother likes being in control.” Gabriella nodded seriously. “He does.” Eliam looked at her. “That is not something you announce.” “But it’s true.” For the first time in days… Eliam almost laughed. Almost. Then his phone vibrated. A message. Unknown number. He opened it. One sentence. The woman standing beside your sister knows exactly how your mother died. Eliam slowly looked up. Across the room, Avaline was smiling at Gabriella. But now he was looking at her differently. Suspicion. Questions. Danger. And neither of them knew their lives had just changed forever.The rain had stopped by the time Eliam’s car rolled through the iron gates of Blackwood Estate. The mansion stood on a hill overlooking the city, its stone walls glowing beneath warm golden lights. To everyone else, it was a symbol of power. To Eliam, it was a prison built from memories. The butler opened the front door before he reached it. “Welcome home, sir.” Eliam gave a short nod and handed over his coat. “Where’s Gabriella?” “In the library, sir. She insisted on waiting for you.” A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. That child had somehow become the only reason this house still felt alive. He walked toward the library, where laughter spilled into the hallway. Gabriella sat cross-legged on the carpet, surrounded by crayons, picture books, and stuffed animals. She looked up the moment she heard his footsteps. “Eli!” She jumped to her feet and threw herself into his arms. He caught her effortlessly. “Someone skipped her bedtime.” She wrapped her tiny arms arou
Avaline Hart had always believed guilt was something you carried quietly. Not something that waited behind every heartbeat. She stood outside Blackwood International’s towering headquarters, her fingers tightening around the strap of her leather handbag as dozens of employees hurried past. The glass building reflected the gray New York sky, making it look cold and untouchable. Much like the man waiting inside. Her phone vibrated. She didn’t need to check the screen. There was only one person who called from blocked numbers. She answered anyway. “You’ve kept me waiting.” Dante Moretti’s voice was calm, almost pleasant. That frightened her more than anger ever could. “I came as soon as I received your message.” “I heard your meeting with Eliam Blackwood went well.” Avaline swallowed. “It wasn’t a meeting.” “No?” A soft chuckle echoed through the speaker. “His little sister seems to like you.” The words made her blood run cold. He was watching. He always was. “What do you wa
Eliam looked down at their joined hands. His hand. Avaline’s hand. A simple gesture from a child. Nothing more. But somehow, it felt like Gabriella had unknowingly crossed a line that both adults had spent years protecting. Avaline quickly pulled her hand away. Not because she disliked the contact. Because she felt guilty. Because his hand was warm. Because for one brief second, she forgot who he was. She forgot the Blackwood name. She forgot the mission. She forgot the reason she was standing there. And that frightened her more than anything. “Gabriella,” Eliam said gently. “Yes?” “We don’t grab people’s hands without asking.” The little girl looked confused. “But you both looked sad.” Avaline almost smiled. Almost. Children were dangerous. Not because they could hurt you, but because they could see things adults spent years hiding. “I’m not sad,” Eliam said. Gabriella looked at him. “You are.” His mouth opened. Then closed. Because arguing with a four-year-old was impossi
Eliam had spent ten years searching for answers. He had searched through police reports, old newspapers, security footage, financial records, and every piece of evidence connected to the night his mother died. But never once had he found a mention of another woman. A woman who was crying. A woman who said sorry. Now, that memory lived inside his four-year-old sister, and he had no idea what to do with it. “Gabriella,” he said carefully. “Can you remember her?” The little girl nodded. “A little.” “What did she look like?” Gabriella closed her eyes, trying to pull something out of a memory that was too big for her. “She had brown hair.” Eliam waited. “She was sad.” “What else?” “She kept saying—” Gabriella stopped. “What?” The little girl looked frightened. “She said she didn’t want to hurt Mommy.” The room became silent. Eleanor slowly stood, and Luca watched her carefully, because that reaction told him something. Eleanor knew more than she was saying. “Grandmother,” E
For a man who had built his life around control, Eliam Blackwood hated moments like this. Moments where the past reached through the walls he had spent years building. He stared at the photograph on the screen. His mother. Elena Blackwood. Beautiful. Elegant. Alive. A woman who had always smiled like she knew a secret the world didn’t. A woman who had been taken from him too soon. The words beneath the image remained: SHE DIDN’T DIE ALONE. His chest tightened because that sentence carried a terrible possibility, a possibility he had never allowed himself to consider. Someone had been there. Someone had seen what happened. Someone had known the truth, and they had stayed silent. “Trace it.” His voice was calm, too calm. Luca knew that tone. It meant Eliam was angry—the dangerous kind of angry. Marcus moved quickly to the security system. “I’m checking the source.” The guards spread throughout the penthouse. Gabriella stood frozen beside the dining table, her little hands holding
Eliam Blackwood had faced men with weapons pointed at his head. He had sat across from ruthless businesspeople who smiled as they planned his downfall. He had walked into rooms where everyone wanted something from him. But nothing prepared him for the feeling of standing across a crowded school hallway, staring at a woman who might know the truth about his mother’s death.Avaline Hart.The name replayed in his mind. The message from the unknown number burned on his phone screen: The woman standing beside your sister knows exactly how your mother died.He should have confronted her immediately. That was what the old Eliam would have done—the man who trusted nobody, the man who destroyed threats before they became problems. But then he looked at Gabriella. His little sister was laughing and actually laughing—something she rarely did around strangers. Avaline was helping her fix a paper crown that had fallen apart. A simple moment. A normal moment. And somehow, that made him more suspici







