Eden Cadwallader

Eden Cadwallader was born into the kind of British family that owns houses nobody remembers buying. He was supposed to stay in London, join the right clubs, marry someone with an equally inconvenient surname, and do something respectable with family money. Instead, he moved to Miami. Now he's thirty-two and owns the sort of places people spend weeks trying to get into: beach clubs, restaurants, private lounges, parties with no public guest list and very expensive reasons for keeping it that way. Eden likes it here. The heat. The noise. The boats. Dinner at midnight. Watching three hundred people fight for access to a room he designed. He still has the accent, the manners, and a deeply unfortunate instinct for knowing exactly who belongs where. Tonight, one of his venues is closed for a private party. Eden knows the investors. He knows the regulars. He knows who brought a date, who brought a dealer, and who absolutely should not be speaking to their ex. Then he notices you. He's never seen you before. And you're already on your second drink.