2
Stepping into the Hawthorne mansion, I felt like a lamb to the slaughter.
My father had whispered his plan to me: “The Hawthornes have three sons. Just get one of them to take ar interest in you.” If none of them did, I’d be passed along to the next creditor on his list.
By then, I had no illusions left about love or marriage. I figured it was better to be in the hands of one mar than passed around like a party favor. As long as the Hawthorne sons weren’t like my former fiancé-fifty-si: years old, a hundred and sixty kilos, and a hundred and sixty centimeters tall-I could live with it.
But the Hawthornes were a different breed.
Mr. Hawthorne, the patriarch, rejected my father’s offer with righteous indignation. “We are a respectabl ‘amily. Don’t try to pull these sordid tricks with us.”
And just like that, my father and I were unceremoniously thrown out. As we stood on the curb, he was alrea dy muttering a list of other names-the Jacksons, the Williamses, the Browns…
Suddenly, a low whistle cut through the air. A man appeared before me. A sharp jawline, high-arched brows and a mess of dark hair falling over his forehead. The legs in those black joggers seemed to go on longe han my life expectancy.
The moment our eyes met, a single thought flashed through my mind: This must be my cosmic reward fo having to look at so many ugly men.
But then my gaze sharpened, and my pupils constricted. Coiled around his arm was a silver snake. Not a toy A real, living snake, as thick as a baby’s arm. Its black, beady eyes were fixed on me, its forked tongue flicki ig the air.
‘ve been terrified of cold-blooded creatures my entire life. A chill shot up my spine, making my scalp tingle. Just as I was about to stumble backward, I heard my father’s voice, dripping with deference.
‘Mr. Caleb.”
knew of Caleb Hawthorne, the third and youngest son. In a family known for its rigid discipline, he was the wild card. Reckless and untamed since childhood, his only known passion was for his collection of snakes. He had no women in his life, only serpents. Yet, his grandfather doted on him, entrusting him with a signific- ant portion of the family empire.
Caleb ignored my father. He just lifted his chin in my direction, his voice a lazy drawl.
“You scared of snakes?”
Terrified. Mortally terrified.
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16.20
Chapter 1
But I fought the urge to retreat, forcing a harmless, innocent smile onto my face. “Not at all.”
A smirk played on his lips. He didn’t seem to believe me. Then, he raised his arm, extending the snake towa-
rd me.
“Then pet him.”
