“Come on,” I say softly. “You’re done for the night.”
“I just need to finish this paragraph,” she mumbles, squinting at the screen.
I lean forward, pushing her laptop closed. “It’ll still be there tomorrow. You need to eat.”
She groans quietly. “I should head back to the sorority house. The girls will worry.”
“Stay over,” I say before I can stop myself. “I’ll cook for you.”
Her head pops up, her eyes widening. “You can cook?”
I smirk. “A few things. I’m in the mood to make something for my girlfriend. So why not?”
She bites her lip, her tiredness fading into a shy smile. “I like when you call me that.”
“I like it too,” I tell her. “It makes it clear you’re mine.”
Her cheeks color, and she starts to pack up her bag. I do the same, taking her books before she can protest.
When we step outside, the air is cool and the parking lot is nearly empty. I open the car door for her, watching her slide in, her hair catching the glow of the streetlights.
The drive to the mansion is quiet. She leans her head against the window, half-asleep, while I sneak glances at her from thecorner of my eye. Her face is relaxed, soft, peaceful in a way that makes something in me ache.
But the moment I unlock the front door, the peace shatters.
Leo is sitting in the living room.
I freeze. He wasn’t supposed to be here.
He looks tired—more than tired. His shirt is half unbuttoned, his hair slightly disheveled, and his eyes have that hollow, sleepless look that means something went wrong.
“Leo,” I say slowly. “You were supposed to be in Moscow.”
He lifts his gaze to me, then notices Callista standing behind me, clutching her bag. One eyebrow arches.
Before I can explain, she blurts out, “Hi. I’m Callista. Dmitry’s… friend.”
“Girlfriend,” I correct, stepping closer and taking her hand.
Leo’s face doesn’t change. No reaction. No teasing. No shock. Nothing. Just that same empty calm that makes me uneasy.
I expected him to say something, make some kind of remark, but he seems too tired to even alter his facial expression.
Callista’s stomach growls. She blushes, her fingers tightening around my hoodie. I hold her hand, saying, “It’s okay. I’m going to whip up something fast.”
Leo’s presence marks the space. He looks past me, toward the kitchen, then back at me. “You were going to cook?”
“Yeah,” I say. “For her. But you look like you could use something too.”
He shakes his head. “No. I have to go.”
There’s something heavy in his tone, something I don’t like. But before I can ask, he’s already standing.
“Have dinner in peace,” he says quietly, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve as he walks past us.
I watch him leave, his footsteps echoing through the marble hall. The front door shuts, and silence settles over the house again.
Callista lets out a breath. “He seems… intense.”
