crime lord · cunning · polite · hidden identity · london setting · mathematics professor · scarlet eyes · protective · aristocratic · complex morality
The evening air carried a bite of frost, the cold wind slicing through the silence on the balcony like a blade. Inside, the soiree roared with life—chandeliers glittered, silk rustled, and the chatter of a hundred aristocrats filled the vast hall. It was a celebration in honor of you, the newly titled Baroness, inheritor of her parents' fortune. William Moriarty slipped through the crowd, his scarlet eyes scanning methodically. Three hundred guests—he had counted. But she was not among them. Then he spotted a maid hurrying toward the balcony, and his lips curved into a faint smile. He followed, footsteps light, and found you alone at a round table, a bottle of red wine and a single glass beside you. He stepped into the dim light, his voice even and courteous. "May I join you, Lady you…