Chapter 1
Two years ago, after the Hart family built their inn, Gertrude Hart sold their house in the city and moved with her daughter, Aveline, to the Hart Inn. Nestled beside their own farmlands, the new place was spacious but also far from school. It took Aveline a good twenty minutes to cycle there, a stretch that felt longer under the sweltering sun of late May in Jasperburg, a quintessential Southern town where midday heat blazed like summer. As usual, Aveline pedaled home after school, her forehead and arms already scorched from the sun. By the time she turned off the main road and onto Field Path, her throat felt parched. The path was still under construction, narrow and riddled with bumps, strewn with yellow dirt and rocks. Balancing her heavy backpack, Aveline eased her pace, bouncing along when suddenly the sound of an approaching car caught her attention. She instinctively glanced over her shoulder to see a dusty black SUV speeding toward her. It showed no signs of slowing down. Aveline quickly leaned left, pushing her bike to the edge of the path, just in time for the vehicle to rush by, kicking up a cloud of dust and gravel. She held her breath, pushing one foot against the ground while the other stayed on the pedal, waving away the debris that blinded her momentarily. Who on earth drives that fast on this kind of road? Just when she was shaking her head in disbelief, the SUV screeched to a halt right in front of the Hart Inn. Realizing that the driver was likely a guest, Aveline hastily pedaled forward, determined to catch a glimpse of the rude driver. Within moments, she saw the driver’s door swing open and a tall man step out. From a distance, Aveline could tell he was powerful-looking, his gray tank top and olive-green cargo shorts emphasizing a muscular build. He sported sunglasses and a scruffy beard, adding an edge to his rugged appearance. The man glanced at the "Hart Inn" sign hanging near the entrance, casually tossed a shirt over his shoulder, and headed straight into the courtyard. Her protective instincts kicking in, Aveline pedaled faster. She worried about her mother, Gertrude, being alone with someone who looked like that. As she hastily pushed her bike toward the courtyard, she caught sight of the man chatting with Gertrude at the front entrance. He had removed his sunglasses, and his gray shirt now clung tightly to his broad chest, revealing well-defined muscles beneath. The man's unkempt beard made it hard for Aveline to discern his features, but the sheer bulk of him exuded a dominating presence. Noticing Aveline’s approach, the man’s sharp-eyed gaze locked onto her, and her heart skipped a beat unexpectedly. Feeling shy and caught off guard, she quickly looked down, maneuvering her bike to lean against the wall. “Sister Anna, come here right now!” Gertrude called out, waving her over. “Okay,” Aveline replied, her heart still racing, as she made her way toward her mother. Now that she was closer, it became evident that the man was even more imposing in person. Even with the shirt on, his buttons were unfastened, and the gray tank underneath was taut against his impressive physique, clearly showcasing each muscle. There was a strong charisma and an intimidating aura about him that made Aveline feel both intrigued and a little uneasy.
Chapter 2
Aveline Hart slowed her pace, sidestepping the man standing at the threshold and moving behind her mother. “What’s going on?” “Show the guest the rooms in the back. I still have food cooking,” her mother, Gertrude Hart, said with a quirked eyebrow. “Wait, what?!” Aveline's jaw dropped, her confusion evident. “What's with your reaction?” Gertrude frowned. As soon as Aveline spoke, she realized something felt off; bringing guests to see the rooms was standard practice in their inn. Yet, she found herself startled, her body and heart sending warnings that this man felt dangerous. Gertrude, who had just turned off the stove to greet their guest, looked equally bewildered. “You go stir-fry, I’ll handle the showing.” “Uh…” Aveline stole a glance at the man, Roland Bright, who was also looking back at her, his gaze unsettlingly relaxed, adding to her discomfort. “I’ll grab the keys,” she managed, rushing into the main hall. Hastily, she made her way to the counter and dropped her bag onto a chair. Just then, she heard her mother awkwardly apologize. The man didn’t say a word, but a soft chuckle escaped him, a hint of nonchalance. Remembering how she’d reacted moments before, looking completely unwilling, Aveline felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She opened the drawer, retrieving the keys while focusing on the floor. “The back rooms are that way,” she said, pointing, her tone stilted. Roland raised an eyebrow, glancing in the direction she indicated before stepping aside as Aveline crossed the threshold into the garden. Hart Inn consisted of two two-story buildings, one in front and one in back. Between them lay a rectangular Garden Nook, enclosed by a tall brick wall. Most guests preferred to stay in the back building; it was quieter, with direct access to the Merchant courtyard, which also offered better privacy. After a few steps, Aveline noted Roland’s footsteps behind her and kept her head down. She sensed his awareness; he was intentionally keeping a distance of three strides. As they turned a corner, the view opened up. Roland scanned the central fountain and rock garden in the courtyard, as well as the rustic wooden gazebo beside it, and smiled with approval. “This place is nice,” he remarked, his voice low and slightly raspy. At his compliment, Aveline felt an electric jolt run through her. A flush crept up her neck and arms. “Uh... It’s not bad, I guess,” she managed hesitantly as she stood in front of the entrance to the inn, unable to meet his eyes. “So, it’s empty now. Do you want the upstairs or the downstairs room?” “Downstairs.” Roland was decisive, stepping around her and toward a room on the left. “Let’s see this one.” Startled, Aveline lifted the heavy bundle of keys and approached him. As she neared the door, the space between them shrank, and once again that weighty pressure returned. She focused on the keys, searching for B03. Her hands trembled slightly as she inserted the key, missing the lock twice before finally getting it right. A soft sigh drifted above her from Roland, causing her cheeks to heat even more. Seeing Aveline’s face redden, Roland’s eyes glinted with interest. He turned his attention to the rustic bench and long table situated in the wooden shed, hoping to alleviate her pressure.
Chapter 3
As he turned, the oppressive atmosphere in the room lightened considerably. Aveline Hart deftly slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. She took two steps back and said, “All set.” Roland Bright glanced over his shoulder at Aveline, who had dropped her head slightly, and walked into the room. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet, the bed was pressed against the wall, and the room featured a small sofa, a coffee table, and a TV stand. The decorations reflected a touch of local culture, giving the place a cozy feel that was more like a home than a hotel—rich with local flavors. The bathroom was off to the right of the entrance. Roland opened the door and glanced in. No bathtub, but it was clean and spacious. He stepped back, turning to face Aveline at the door. “The air conditioning is working fine, right?” Aveline paused, a puzzled expression crossing her face as she looked up at him. The confusion in her eyes made Roland chuckle softly, his laughter low and resonate; it sent a tingle through Aveline’s chest. “You said the air in the back tower was broken,” he pointed out. “Uh... this one’s fine,” she replied. “Then let’s go with this room.” Roland stepped back out, closing the door behind him. Still grappling with Roland's presence, Aveline felt a bit dazed, not quite processing what his departure from the room meant. Roland cocked his head, a smirk forming. “Aren’t you going to check us in?” Aveline's head drooped as she hurriedly walked toward the main area, flustered and taken aback. Watching her flustered retreat, Roland couldn’t help but smile softly and followed her at a leisurely pace. They entered the Great Hall, where Gertrude Hart was busy cooking in the kitchen, leaving Aveline to handle the check-in. She stood at the front desk, pulling out the guestbook. “So, the room in the back is twenty dollars more than the one in front—one hundred a night. It doesn’t matter when you check in, the following day is counted from noon.” As soon as Aveline finished speaking, Roland’s wallet appeared with a grin. Not understanding what was funny, Aveline tilted her head in confusion. Roland slightly lowered his head, resting a finger on his nose while he sniffed and said, “You just mentioned that the back costs one hundred and twenty a night.” Aveline's grip on the pen tightened, stifling the urge to slap her forehead in exasperation. She summoned the courage to respond, “That’s during peak season; after May, there’s hardly anyone, so I thought I’d give you a discount.” Roland raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise, and Aveline felt her cheeks heat up for some reason. She wondered if he was misconstruing the situation—did he think she was interested in him and was intentionally giving him a better deal? “Old Mom should’ve told me!” Aveline thought bitterly, her focus back on the guest book as she jotted down the date. “How many days are you planning to stay?” Roland produced his ID from his wallet and placed it on the counter. “Let's say one lord, for now." “One Lord?!” Aveline blinked, her pen hovering mid-air as she replayed his words. Most guests stayed four or five days, and one lord sounded... strange. Roland tilted his head, meeting her confused gaze and repeating, “One lord.” “Uh... oh.” She quickly lowered her head, grabbing the ID from the counter. In that moment, Aveline learned not only his name but also his age. A puzzling thought struck her—how could a man of just 27 appear so rugged, sporting scruffy stubble that made him look a decade older? His voice, though, was quite charming.
Chapter 4
“Three hundred for the deposit, plus a thousand for the room. If you don’t stay the full time, it’s refundable.” “Can I pay by card?” “Yes.” At that moment, Aveline Hart finalized her registration, putting her ID back on the counter and grabbing the card reader to turn it on. Roland Bright pulled a card from his wallet, bending his arm slightly, his elbow resting on the counter as he waited. Aveline noticed that the card reader at her inn was a bit outdated, the startup sluggish. As she stared at the screen waiting for a response, her gaze involuntarily drifted outside to the man by the entrance. That fleeting glance revealed his muscular arms beneath his short sleeves, and the sight made Aveline’s heart race. Startled by her own reaction, she quickly redirected her gaze back to the card reader, too flustered to look at him again. My God, if he wrapped those arms around my neck, I’d be in serious trouble… Aveline couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just the two of them in the inn—herself and Old Mama. The thought sent shivers down her spine. Seeing her frozen, Roland couldn’t help but ask, “Is it ready yet?” Aveline snapped back to reality, noticing the menu had already appeared. She quickly input the amount, mumbling, “Almost done.” Roland remained silent, handing her his card. Aveline took it, swiped it under the light of the card reader, and offered it back to him. As Roland reached for the reader, his fingers brushed against Aveline’s. She recoiled as if shocked, pulling her hand back immediately. With a ‘thud’ sound, the card reader dropped onto the counter. Roland, still with his hand in the air, pursed his lips, then turned his gaze aside, unable to look at her, and let out a barely audible sigh. Aveline’s cheeks flushed bright red. She desperately wanted to dash into the kitchen and tell Old Mama that she could actually cook. But she couldn’t, so she forced herself to gather the card reader, checking for any damage before handing it back to him. “Sorry, my hand just cramped…” Roland actually considered giving Aveline a playful retort. Yet when he noticed her face was almost burning and her eyes were slightly red, he thought better of it. He didn’t want her to suddenly burst into tears; onlookers might think he was bullying her. He took the card reader back, entered the PIN, and confirmed the transaction. The receipt printed quickly. Aveline hurriedly tore it off and handed it to him to sign, followed by quickly retrieving the duplicate to provide a receipt. As she offered him the receipt, she only pinched the edges carelessly. Roland glanced at it as he slid his ID and card back into his wallet, asking, “Do you have an invoice?” Aveline, who had been looking down, stiffened. She blinked and then slowly raised her head. “Well… actually, I could give you a ten-dollar discount on the room price.” Roland bit his lip, trying to suppress a laugh. He nodded, “Thanks.” ... When Aveline Hart walked into the kitchen feeling dejected, her mother, Gertrude Hart, was busy simmering some soup. “Did you get a room?” she asked when she saw Aveline. “Yeah, I did.” “How long will you be staying?” “Just one night.” After a long holiday, this was a rare booking, causing Gertrude to smile slyly. “Time to serve dinner, then.” As Aveline watched her mother’s expression, she pursed her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me you told him the back tower costs a hundred and twenty?” The smile on Gertrude's face froze. “What do you mean?” Aveline shrugged slightly. “I—I just told him the normal price…” “Come on…” Gertrude scoffed with amusement, “Isn’t the normal price one hundred twenty?” “It’s the off-season after May Day.” “Then how much did you say?” “Ninety.” “Ninety?!” Gertrude exclaimed.
Chapter 5
Aveline Hart squinted as a beam of sunlight caught her off guard. “They wanted a receipt, and I said I could knock ten bucks off,” she mumbled, feeling the weight of her mother’s gaze. Gertrude Hart smacked her forehead in disbelief. “That’s twenty-one times seven, which means you just lost two hundred bucks from your pocket money!” “What? No way!” Aveline exclaimed, her reality suddenly feeling a bit more grim. “Yep!” Was today some sort of bad luck charm for her? The Hart Inn's front porch opened out into a small garden, where a wooden shed stood beside a vintage fan that parented the sweltering summer air. Aveline and her mother rarely cranked up the air conditioning unless it was sweltering hot, so they usually had their meals while enjoying the breeze from the fan. Just as Roland Bright pulled into the lot, Aveline and her mother had just set the table for dinner. At the sight of him, Aveline's instinct was to drop her gaze and remain silent. Meanwhile, her mother greeted Roland with enthusiastic waves, inviting him to join them for dinner. Roland chuckled, quickly sensing Gertrude's warm hospitality was more of a polite gesture than a real invitation. With a friendly smile, he declined and wandered toward the back yard. Once his figure had disappeared, Aveline nudged Gertrude, lowering her voice. “Mom, I need to talk to you…” She revealed her worries about Roland, and Gertrude shot her a pointed look. “He was introduced by your Uncle Duncan!” Duncan Blackwood, Aveline's uncle's nephew, was quite well-known in town as a local merchant, who also had some infamous history—having served time in jail. He'd only been out for six months. The moment she heard Roland's connection to Duncan, Aveline felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her as she recalled her earlier suspicion. “Why didn’t you tell me it was Duncan’s recommendation?” she grumbled. “You didn’t ask,” her mother shrugged. Does she really have to beg? Aveline furrowed her brows but continued, “But someone introduced by Duncan is still charging a hundred and twenty…” Gertrude rolled her eyes. “You know how it works: business favors involve a cost.” “Geez, Mom, you're impressive!” After dinner, Aveline didn’t retreat to her room as usual. Instead, she draped herself over the reception desk, pondering how to strike up a proper conversation with Roland to neutralize her previous awkwardness. However, when the time for school came around, she didn’t see him appear, forcing her to sadly grab her backpack and bike her way to class. Since she’d have remedial classes in the afternoon, school let out around six, which meant that Aveline often grabbed a snack from the cafeteria or nearby as she prepared for night study sessions. After finishing classes at nine, she hopped back on her bike to ride home, her thoughts mysteriously circling around her earlier encounter. As she caught sight of the fork leading into the Field Path, the sound of roaring motorcycles whizzed by, breaking her train of thought. In the past couple of years, the Crown had been developing this area, and with numerous villagers obtaining quick wealth from land redevelopments, the youth from well-off families had taken a darker path, joining notorious motorcycle gangs. At night, groups of them would swarm into town, showing off their speed—Aveline often encountered them after evening classes. The reckless honks and shouts barely fazed her anymore, though she had experienced some who slowed down just to shout compliments at her. But this time, she felt a strange tension as the motorcycles that had zoomed ahead suddenly stopped, turning back. A surge of unease gripped her as she instinctively lowered her head, letting her long braid hang over her face, trying to blend into the background.
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