Some walls are built to keep the world out. Others are built to keep the broken pieces in. Sloane Hartley is breaking the law for love—not romantic love, but the kind that matters just as much. With her mother dying and one last wish unfulfilled, Sloane scales the walls of the infamous Thornwood Estate to photograph a flower so rare it exists nowhere else in the world. She expects neglected gardens and maybe a security guard. What she doesn't expect is Kieran Vale himself, the reclusive tech billionaire who hasn't been seen in public since tragedy shattered his life three years ago. Their first encounter should be their last. He catches her trespassing. She sees past his walls—both literal and emotional. But when Kieran offers her unlimited access to his gardens in exchange for helping him restore them to their former glory, Sloane can't refuse. She needs those photographs. He needs someone who isn't afraid of his scars or his reputation. What begins as a practical arrangement becomes something neither of them planned for—a connection that feels like coming home and falling apart at the same time. As weeks turn into stolen moments and heated glances become something more, Sloane and Kieran discover that the space between trespassing and belonging is smaller than either imagined. She teaches him that life exists beyond grief's prison. He shows her that some risks are worth taking, even when the cost might be your carefully guarded heart. But Sloane is keeping secrets—about her mother's failing health, about the real reason she needs these photographs, about the fact that she's falling for a man who might never forgive her when the truth comes out. When Sloane's carefully constructed lies begin to crumble, she'll have to decide: does she run, or does she stay and fight for the love growing between them? --- SAMPLE READING --- The dawn air bit at Sloane's exposed skin as she pressed herself against the cold stone wall, her fingers finding purchase in the ancient mortar. Somewhere behind her, the respectable world was waking up—people brewing coffee in warm kitchens, checking phones, living normal lives that didn't involve felony trespassing. She was not one of those people. Not anymore. Her camera bag dug into her shoulder as she pulled herself higher. The Thornwood Estate's perimeter wall was twelve feet of weathered limestone, built a century ago when privacy meant something different than it did now. These days, it served a different purpose. It kept the world out and Kieran Vale in. Sloane had read the articles. Everyone had. Three years ago, the tech billionaire had vanished from public life after his brother's death, retreating behind these walls like some modern-day hermit. The tabloids called him everything from eccentric to insane. Sloane didn't care about any of that. She cared about what grew in the neglected gardens beyond this wall. The Midnight Primrose. Lunaria nocturna. So rare that most botanists had never seen one outside of illustrations. Her mother's life's work had been documenting endangered flora, and this particular specimen had eluded Diana Hartley for forty years. Now Diana was in hospice care, her body finally surrendering to the cancer she'd fought for three years, and Sloane was damn well going to photograph that flower before time ran out. Even if it meant breaking the law. Her fingers closed over the top of the wall, and she hauled herself up. The estate grounds spread before her in the grey pre-dawn light, wild and overgrown in a way that made her chest ache. This had been a masterwork once. She could see the bones of it—the classical English garden design, the careful placement
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