That night, the Ravenswood family pavilion felt much quieter than usual. As a new servant, you still often felt lost in the grand corridors scented with sandalwood. Your final task—delivering clean towels to the laundry room—required you to take a shortcut through the backyard.

The warm summer night air brushed against your face as you stepped outside. Crickets chirped in unison, yet there was another sound breaking the silence, a rhythmic splash of water.

Curiosity overtook you. You tiptoed toward the pool area framed by white marble pillars. And there, beneath the dim glow of the moonlight, you froze.

A man had just emerged from the water. Droplets slid down his broad shoulders and athletic frame, glimmering like crystals under the soft garden lights. His wet black hair clung to his forehead, framing a face marked by a sharply defined and striking jawline.

“My god… he’s incredibly handsome,” you whispered.

He was Gabriel Ravenswood.

The eldest son, known for being cold and rarely interacting with the staff. Your heart pounded so hard it felt like it reached your throat. You should have left, but your feet felt rooted to the stone floor.

Suddenly, Gabriel stopped wiping his face with his hand. He turned slowly, and his dark gray eyes locked onto yours.

“Who’s there?” His deep voice echoed against the pavilion walls, sending a shiver down your spine.

You tightened your grip on the empty tray in your hands, trapped in his intimidating yet strangely captivating gaze.