Prospect Peak—an exceedingly discreet manor in Wesvale, a suburb of Valois—had also been the city's most mysterious private club for the past two years.
The air was frigid. Wrapped in an oatmeal-colored cashmere coat, Summer Thorne had been standing in the biting wind for some time, and a persistent chill ran down her back.
The man leading the way walked with a steady gait, guiding Summer Thorne to a room at the far end of the third floor. He gestured toward the door. "Mr. Dunn is inside."
Summer Thorne hadn't expected to meet Silas Dunn so easily. She was about to push the door open when the man called out to her again. "Miss Thorne, I can take your coat for you."
His tone was level, as if this were a routine task.
Summer Thorne didn't hesitate. She casually swept back her long, wavy chestnut hair, slipped off her coat to reveal a black, backless, form-fitting dress, and pushed the door open.
While the building's exterior was unassuming and the interior decor showed little sign of luxury, the space itself was quite large. The lighting split the room into two worlds: one bright, the other dim.
Summer Thorne had expected it to be bustling inside, but to her surprise, only Silas Dunn was there. He sat alone under the bright lights, sprawled lazily in a black leather armchair and fiddling with his phone.
'No wonder it was so easy to get in. From the looks of it, Mr. Dunn must be quite bored.'
Hearing the door open, Silas Dunn looked up.
He was exceptionally handsome, with refined features and fair skin. His dark, bright eyes held a faint trace of boyishness, making him seem, at first glance, like a normal person.
But what kind of normal person would utter such a shocking phrase as "Only virgins need apply"?
Not only that, he treated those four words as his personal motto, shamelessly proclaiming it to the world.
When it came to being outrageous, no one in all of Valois could top him.
Silas Dunn's gaze roamed over Summer Thorne, and after a moment, his smile turned sly. "And how is it I've never known of such a beauty in Valois?"
Summer Thorne lowered her gaze and smiled faintly. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, Mr. Dunn."
"What, are all the men in Valois blind?" Silas Dunn gestured for her to sit as he poured her a glass of red wine. "A bombshell like you, and you're still a virgin?"
Summer Thorne knew he was mistaking her for a woman who'd come to throw herself at him, but she still accepted the wine he offered. "I'm sorry, Mr. Dunn, but you seem to have misunderstood why I'm here. I came today to apologize on behalf of my sister."
Silas Dunn's eyebrows shot up. "Your sister?"
"Georgia Sutton."
Silas Dunn didn't react, simply looking down to pour himself a drink.
There were two whiskey glasses on the round table between them. One was Silas Dunn's; the other already had fine beads of condensation forming on its sides.
The window must have been open, as a cool, crisp fragrance drifted through the air. It smelled like cedar from a high, distant mountain—clean, deep, and tranquil.
'It didn't match Silas Dunn's character at all.'
Summer Thorne couldn't resist glancing toward the shadows.
'Could there be someone else over there?'
Silas Dunn took an unhurried sip of his drink. When he looked up again, his expression had turned cold. He ignored her earlier statement and simply asked, "So, you're not a virgin?"
As he spoke, his gaze fell to Summer Thorne's hand.
Summer Thorne had taken her wedding ring off some time ago, but the faint indentation on her ring finger had yet to completely fade.
"That figures." Silas Dunn's eyes were fixed on the mark. "Unless you're telling me some man out there has such terrible taste that he could look at someone as beautiful as you and still keep his hands to himself."
He grinned, his tone turning even nastier. "Does your husband know you're here to see me?"
Summer Thorne acted as if she hadn't heard, instead pulling a check from her purse and placing it before him.
"My sister is young and naive. Thank you for being willing to lend her money. We appreciate the sentiment, but we don't wish for you to go to such trouble, Mr. Dunn. Please, take this money back."
"How interesting. Your sister strikes a deal with me yesterday, and you come running to break it today." Silas Dunn scoffed. "What, do I look like a pushover to you?"
"Life is about having a little fun, isn't it? A man of the world like you, Mr. Dunn, you've seen it all. My sister is hardly irreplaceable. Why get so hung up on one naive little girl?"
Silas Dunn's eyes widened. "You're not... inviting me, are you? Hinting that I should turn my attention from your sister to you? A married woman?"
He spat out the last two words, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
But Summer Thorne remained composed. "Of course, I know I don't meet your standards, Mr. Dunn. All I can say is, if you ever have a use for me in the future, I'll give it my all. Are you sure you won't reconsider?"
Silas Dunn eyed her skeptically. "You?"
Summer Thorne held her smile. "Yes. Me."
Silas Dunn's gaze lingered on her.
Summer Thorne had a strikingly radiant face. Silas Dunn had always considered a woman's awareness of her own beauty to be a virtue, but for some reason, her beauty seemed to be veiled by a thin layer of gauze, making it feel unreal.
Hazy, yet alluring.
Suddenly, a faint SCRAPE came from the shadows, followed by a flicker of light, as if someone had struck a match.
Summer Thorne turned her head toward the sound.
The flame was dim, seemingly cupped by a pair of hands.
She assumed the person had lit the match for a cigarette, but the smell of smoke never came.
As the match burned out, Silas Dunn suddenly let out a laugh.
"'If I ever have a use for you, you'll give it your all,' is that right?" Silas Dunn jutted his chin toward the shadows. "I have another guest with me today, and he's not in the best of moods. You make him happy for me, and we can talk about anything you want."
Summer Thorne met his gaze for a moment, then picked something up from the table, stood, and walked into the shadows.
Her vision plunged from light into darkness. She could just make out the figure of a man standing by the window, his silhouette as tall and straight as a pine tree.
He was looking out the window, not sparing her a single glance.
At the same time, Summer Thorne again caught that faint, profound, and tranquil scent, carried in on the cool breeze from the window, bringing with it a subtle chill.
Summer Thorne paused for a moment before taking two steps forward.
"Miss Thorne, what would your husband think if he knew you were doing this?"
Silas Dunn's mocking voice called out from the light.
But Summer Thorne didn't hesitate, walking right up to the man.
He was very tall. Even without seeing his face, she could feel his commanding presence.
Even in her high heels, Summer Thorne had to tilt her head up to look at him as she brought the object in her hand to his lips.
In the darkness, the man parted his lips and took what she offered.
SCRAPE—
The sound of a match being struck echoed again.
Summer Thorne cupped the flame in her hands, gently bringing it toward the man's face.
In the flickering light, she saw his eyes—a darkness so profound the flame could not penetrate it, hiding something deep within.
The cigarette slowly caught, and the match's faint glow died out.
In her vision, the crimson tip of the cigarette burned ever brighter, mirroring the slow clenching of the man's jaw...