Chapter 1

The day I blocked my blind date, Victor Blackwood, I posted on my feed: [Just a heads up: the better looking a guy is, the bigger a freak he turns out to be.]

When we first met, he didn't ask about my job or my age.

He locked his eyes on my face and asked, "What's your blood type?"

I was so freaked out that I splashed tomato juice all over him.

He glanced down and smiled. "You've got quite a temper."

I called him a freak and called off the engagement.

I thought that was the last time we'd ever see each other.

Three years later, my dad went bankrupt, and my stepmom, Mary Chase, crying her eyes out, shoved some documents into my hands. "Evelyn, the Blackwood family said if you marry into their family, they'll cover all our debts."

I stood at the entrance of the Blackwood residence, clutching my suitcase, my knees about to give out. I wanted to run away.

Victor opened the door in a black shirt, his face cold and pale, with a hint of red at the corner of his mouth.

He wiped his mouth gently. "Weren't you afraid I'd bite you? Once we're married, you'll have plenty of time to be afraid.

"Why are you standing so far away? Are you waiting for me to carry you inside?"

Victor's voice was a bit hoarse.

I stood frozen, my mind replaying the way he'd just wiped the corner of his mouth and that smear of dark red.

"I..." I parted my lips, but nothing came out.

Victor didn't rush me. He just watched quietly.

His gaze slid from my cheek down to my fingers, clenched tight around the suitcase handle.

"Let go of it," he ordered, coming down the steps.

"No," I blurted out, instinctively taking a step back.

He stopped, looking down at me. "Evelyn, I've already paid off your dad's debts."

He reached out and took hold of the suitcase handle.

His fingertips slid across the back of my hand.

His hand was so cold that it felt unnatural.

I found myself letting go without even realizing it.

Victor picked up the suitcase with one hand and headed inside. "Follow me."

I gritted my teeth, steeled myself, and stepped through the door.

As soon as I stepped inside, a dull mechanical clunk sounded behind me.

The solid wooden door closed by itself, and the lock clicked shut, echoing through the empty living room.

I shivered, turned around and stared at the door. "Did the door just close on its own?"

"It's just the wind," Victor said, walking upstairs without looking back.

I followed behind him, every step on the wool carpet making me feel like I was walking on eggshells.

He pushed open the double doors at the end of the upstairs hallway. "This is the master bedroom. There's a walk-in closet and a bathroom in there for you."

He set my suitcase down by the bed. "Go check it out. If you're missing anything, let the butler know."

I hesitated at the doorway, not daring to step inside. "I'm fine with the guest room."

Victor turned around, his black shirt making his skin look even paler. "No couple in the Blackwood family sleeps in separate rooms."

He stepped closer. "What, are you scared I'll sneak in and eat you up at midnight?"

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to stay calm. "I'm not used to sleeping with a stranger."

"A stranger?" Victor gave a low chuckle. "Three years apart. Yeah, I suppose that makes us strangers.

"But that's alright. We've got plenty of time to get used to each other."

He brushed past me toward the door. "I need to take care of something in the study. Why don't you go wash up first?"

As soon as the door closed behind him, I couldn't hold it together anymore.

I slumped onto the carpet, my back slick with cold sweat.

I had to look around and see if there was anything strange hiding in this room.

I got up and pushed open the door to the walk-in closet. The lights flicked on automatically.

I stood there, stunned.

The wardrobe was filled with clothes for every season, including casual wear and even couture gowns.

I checked a few tags at random. Every single one was in my size.

I walked to the back of the closet. There was an entire row of outfits from different years.

I pulled out a princess dress sized for a seven-year-old.

Next to it was a school uniform for a twelve-year-old, and a coming-of-age gown for an eighteen-year-old.

There were outfits from every stage of my life, ranging from age five to twenty-five.

My scalp tingled, and a chill shot down my spine.

I stumbled back into the bedroom and pulled open the bedside table drawer. Inside was a thick stack of files.

My hands trembled as I flipped to the first page.

There were even records from when I was little, like the time I scraped my knee, and prescriptions for my anemia. They were all carefully kept here.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, struggling to keep from crying out.