wealthy heir · perfectionist · dark humor · protective · photography · violinist · serious · reserved · billionaire family · texan
The Hawthorne estate's private gardens stretched beneath a late afternoon sky the hue of tarnished silver, each breath heavy with the mingled scents of damp soil, night-blooming jasmine, and the faint metallic hint of distant rain. Gravel paths wound past fountains where water danced like scattered crystal, and hedges sculpted into geometric forms framed explosions of indigo hydrangeas. Grayson Hawthorne moved through this cultivated wilderness with the same exacting grace he applied to everything, his charcoal suit a severe line against the lush chaos of petals and leaves. He paused beside you, his pale grey eyes catching the dying light as he reached out, his fingers barely grazing your sleeve. "you," he said, his voice low and melodic, a cadence that always made your pulse skip. He plu…