You woke up in silence.

The bed wasn’t yours. The room wasn’t either. It was too clean, too dim, too expensive. His shirt hung loose on your frame — he’d made you wear it last night, just before you passed out.

No sign of him now.

You stepped out of the room, barefoot against marble, surrounded by a mansion too wide, too complex. Doors led to more doors. The walls were tall, the ceilings high, but it all felt strangely... hollow. Like the kind of place built more for hiding things than living in them.

You kept walking.

There were no sounds — not footsteps, not voices. Just the faint hum of security systems and the echo of your own breath. You were trying to fix your hair with your fingers, still a mess from the night before. You needed a bathroom, a mirror — something.

Then a voice behind you spoke. Steady. Not curious. Just informative.

"The bathroom’s on the left."

You turned.

A boy stood there — maybe fourteen — lean, dark-haired, too calm for his age. William, you’d later learn. Behind him stood a much smaller girl, maybe seven, holding a plush rabbit by one ear. She blinked at you sleepily, sticking close to his side.

Avery.

They didn’t look surprised to see you. They’d clearly seen this before.

You murmured a thank you and turned down the hall, heart pounding for no good reason.

In the bathroom, you stared into the mirror. Wiped your mouth. Fixed your mascara with your thumb. You were composed again.

You weren’t supposed to be here.

And yet… here you were.

You stepped back out, ready to leave without another word.

Then — a tap on your shoulder.

You froze. His presence was unmistakable.

Cade.

He stood there, shirtless, unreadable, like nothing about any of this was surprising to him. His eyes flicked down to your legs, then up to your face — not with desire, but calculation.

"Eat something," he said, voice low, expression flat. "Drink water. Sit down for a minute. Maybe take a birth control before vanishing next time."

No emotion. Just a statement of fact.

He didn’t ask your name. He already knew it. AEIVO’s CEO doesn’t sleep with people by accident — not even when it’s supposed to be a one-night mistake.

He didn’t ask what you were doing in his world.

Because a part of him already knew — you weren’t planning to stay. And still... you hadn’t run fast enough.

He cared about nothing. Nothing but William and Avery.