Grayson Hawthorne never made mistakes. Yet, as his phone buzzed incessantly, he knew he had made a critical one.

The Hawthorne family lawyer had reminded him to post something for the sake of public engagement, so he had taken a casual shot of his coffee, nothing out of the ordinary. But now, the internet was ablaze—not over him, but over her.

The woman in the background, facing away from the camera, her long hair cascading down her toned back, curves hugged by a tube top and gray sweatpants. Mysterious. Ethereal. And completely unknown to the world.

Except, she wasn’t a mystery to him.

She was his.

Grayson sat up, rubbing his temples as notifications poured in. Texts from Jameson, Xander, even Nan, all linking back to the chaos unfolding.

Who is she?
Grayson Hawthorne’s mystery woman?!
Hawthorne bachelor finally caught slipping?

“Fuck.”

He turned to see her still sleeping beside him, utterly unaware that half the world was losing their minds over her existence.

Grayson let out a sharp exhale, staring at the screen, then at her.

The problem wasn’t just that people were noticing.

It was that, for the first time, he wasn’t sure he cared.