Chapter One - Through Her

The Hayes Holdings tower cut through the New York skyline like a blade, all glass and cold steel. Emily smoothed her skirt for the tenth time in the elevator, heart thudding. She needed this job. Rent was due, and the last three interviews had ended with polite, empty smiles.

When the doors opened on the 40th floor, she didn’t expect him.

Collin Hayes sat behind a desk that probably cost more than her car. Dirty blonde hair fell over his forehead, and his deep brown eyes should have been sharp — calculated, like every article said about the Hayes brothers. But they weren’t. They were distant. Unfocused.

“Emily?” he said, then paused, like he’d forgotten her name the second it left his mouth. “Right. Sit.”

She did. Her tight, dark brown curls bounced against her shoulders, and she tucked a strand behind her ear, painfully aware of how pale her skin looked under the fluorescent lights. Her deep blue eyes met his, searching.

The interview wasn’t an interview. He asked her age — twenty-three. If she could cook — yes. If she was comfortable with “unusual hours” — she needed the money. His words trailed off mid-sentence twice. Once, he stared past her at the window for a full ten seconds before blinking hard and continuing.

“You’re hired,” he said abruptly, standing. “Be at the estate tomorrow. Ten a.m. sharp.”

Emily blinked. “That’s it? No—”

“Ten,” he repeated, already turning away. “Ethan will want to meet you.”

She left with a contract in her hand and a knot in her stomach.

Behind the glass doors, Ethan Hayes leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his muscular frame. Dark hair, darker eyes, and a jaw that looked carved from stone. He didn’t look up from his phone.

“She seems nice,” Collin muttered, running a hand through his hair.

Ethan’s gaze flicked up, unreadable. “We’ll see.”

The Hayes estate wasn’t a house. It was a marble monument to wealth, sprawling and silent at 10:01 a.m. Collin met her at the door, looking more put-together in a charcoal sweater, but his eyes were still… elsewhere.

“Tour first,” he said, voice softer than yesterday. “Kitchen, laundry, main hall. You’ll multitask. Cleaning schedule’s on the fridge. Meals are provided. Uniform’s in your room — dark blue button-down, apron, standard attire.”

He moved through the halls like a ghost, pointing out rooms without really seeing them. When they reached the kitchen, he slid the contract across the island. “Read. Sign if you accept. Then start.”

Emily picked up the pen, but her attention snagged. Collin was staring at her. Not at her face — through her. His brow was furrowed, lips parted slightly, like he was in pain or seeing something that wasn’t there.

“Are you alright?” she asked quietly.

He blinked, and the intensity sharpened. “I’m fine. Perfect. Everything’s great, like puppies and—”

“—and deadlines,” Ethan’s voice cut in from the doorway. He stepped inside, tall and imposing, eyes locking on Emily. “He’s just excited. You’re new.”

The way he said new made her skin prickle. To fill the silence, Emily gestured to the chain at Collin’s throat. A delicate half-heart necklace glinted against his sweater. “That’s pretty. Who has the other half?”

Collin’s fingers grazed the pendant, his expression shuttering. “Thank you. It was a gift. From someone special.”

Ethan’s jaw tightened. “We’ll leave you to it.”

They were gone before she could ask anything else.

She’d been cleaning the east wing for twenty minutes when she heard footsteps. Helen. The other maid — short blonde hair, light blue eyes, twenty-seven and moving like she’d been in this house forever.

Helen stopped in the doorway, bucket in hand. Her gaze dragged over Emily’s face, her tight curls, the pale skin flushed from work. Her blue eyes went wide.

Then, flat and certain: “You look just like Morgan.”

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