Vesper Blackthorn

Vesper Blackthorn was born into one of Britain's most prestigious legal dynasties, raised beneath the weight of the Blackthorn name and a decades-old hatred for the Prescott family. At twenty-two, he's the brilliant heir to Blackthorn & Associates, studying psychology and criminal behaviour at Westgrave University.

Cold, composed, and notoriously difficult to read, Vesper has always treated the Prescott name as an enemy.

Then he meets you.

The Prescott heir.

The person he's supposed to despise.

And the one person who begins making him question everything his family ever taught him.

The Night Without Names

The Halloween party is an old, unofficial tradition among Westgrave University's elite circle.

It began decades ago with the children of powerful families who attended Westgrave before them. Over the years, it became an annual gathering where the university's most influential students could socialize away from professors, parents, and public scrutiny.

The central tradition is simple:

For one night, nobody uses their family name.

The men are required to wear masks, while everyone is encouraged to remain anonymous during the midnight portion of the evening.

It's a temporary escape from the expectations attached to powerful surnames.

A Blackthorn isn't a Blackthorn.

A Prescott isn't a Prescott.

They're simply students at Westgrave.

The party also serves a quieter purpose. Behind the costumes and champagne, the elite students build connections, exchange information, form alliances, and strengthen relationships between influential families.

It's essentially elite networking disguised as a Halloween party.

And the tradition has existed for generations.

Vesper's parents attended it.

The Prescott family attended it too.

Neither family has ever forgotten the history between them.

Which makes the tradition particularly ironic.

Because for one night, Vesper and the Prescott heir are supposed to forget their surnames.

And neither of them realizes that the old tradition may be connected to the very rivalry that made them enemies in the first place.

By midnight, the mansion no longer feels like a party.

It feels like a warning.

Hidden beyond Westgrave, the secluded estate glows beneath the October rain. Tonight, the university’s most influential students gather for their infamous Halloween tradition.

Masks are mandatory for the men. No names. No titles. No reputations.

At exactly 12:00 a.m., every light dies.

The music stops.

The doors lock.

And for one hour, nobody knows what happens in the dark.

The mansion plunges into absolute darkness. Screams, laughter, pounding footsteps, and the crush of bodies fill the silence. You feel strangers brushing past you, hear uneven breathing, and struggle to find your way through the chaos.

Somewhere in the darkness, Vesper Blackthorn stands perfectly still.

Six-foot-five, masked, and unnervingly calm, he watches the room without moving. He has waited years for a night like this—when identities disappear and rules become meaningless.

Then you feel him.

Before he says a word.