After Travis left, the office fell back into its familiar silence, but Leander found his concentration fractured. His thoughts drifted where they always went when emotional vulnerability threatened his carefully maintained control—back to that night twelve years ago, when everything he’d understood about safety and strength had shattered beyond repair.
The memory never arrived with dramatic fanfare, just sharp sensory details that cut through his defenses like a blade. The metallic smell of blood mixing with expensive cologne. The weight of his father’s body in his arms, life draining away despite Leander’s desperate attempts to stop the bleeding. The moment when Martin Kellerman—his father’s trusted business partner, the man who’d shared family dinners and holiday celebrations—raised a gun with the cold calculation of someone who’d been planning betrayal for months.
Instinct had overridden conscious thought. Leander’s hand had found the letter opener on his father’s desk, muscle memory from years of self-defense training taking over where shock had paralyzed rational thinking. The blade had found its mark beforeKellerman could fire again, and suddenly Leander was standing over two bodies instead of one, blood on his hands and a wound burning along his collarbone where Kellerman’s first shot had grazed him.
The physical wound had healed within weeks. The emotional devastation had carved permanent channels through his psyche, teaching him that love and trust created leverage people could exploit. Attachment meant vulnerability. Caring deeply was the fastest path to catastrophic loss.
Control, discipline, and emotional distance had become survival strategies.
The idea of any meaningful relationship, especially a mate bond—something he couldn’t negotiate, manage, or escape—sent him into a panic. It was the ultimate threat to everything he’d built. His lion might crave connection with primitive intensity, but Leander had learned to silence those instincts through sheer force of will. He’d cultivated a reputation as one of New York’s most eligible bachelors not to collect conquests, but to maintain the illusion of availability while never risking genuine attachment.
Casual relationships served their purpose. Physical release without emotional investment. Companionship that ended when convenience demanded. But love? Love was the enemy of survival.
A knock on his office door cut through his spiraling thoughts.
Leander straightened in his chair, muscle memory snapping his posture into the commanding presence that had built an empire.
“Come in.”
The door opened with a cheerful confidence that made Leander’s teeth clench. Gerri Wilder swept into his office like a pink-clad hurricane, her white bob perfectly styled and her blue eyes sparkling with the kind of mischief that had toppledkingdoms and destroyed carefully laid plans. At four foot eleven, she should have been dwarfed by the imposing space, yet somehow her presence commanded the room more effectively than his six-foot-three frame ever had.
“Good morning, Leander.” Her voice carried the warmth of someone greeting an old friend, though they’d met exactly twice. “You look wonderfully brooding today.”
Leander’s jaw tightened. The woman had a talent for dismantling his composure with surgical precision, her observations landing with uncomfortable accuracy. “Nice to see you again, Ms. Wilder. I trust you are eager to share your news.”
“Oh, I’m very eager.” Gerri settled into the chair across from his desk without invitation, crossing her legs with the poise of someone accustomed to making herself at home anywhere. “Camille St. James is absolutely perfect for the executive assistant role. In fact, she’s perfect for you in ways that go far beyond professional compatibility.”
His lion stirred with dangerous interest, recognizing something in Gerri’s tone that made every instinct flare to attention. “What exactly are you implying?”
“I’m not implying anything, dear.” Gerri’s smile held the satisfied gleam of someone revealing a winning hand. “I’m stating it plainly. She’s your fated mate.”
The declaration landed with the force of a wrecking ball, shattering the careful equilibrium Leander had spent years constructing. His lion surged forward with primal recognition, roaring approval that sent shockwaves through his nervous system.
“Absolutely not.” The words came out harder than intended. “I have no interest in settling down, and having my assistant be my supposed mate is reckless interference in my business operations.”
“Some connections are inevitable, Leander.” Gerri’s tone remained maddeningly calm, as though discussing weather patterns rather than upending his entire existence. “Fighting fate is like trying to hold back the tide with your bare hands—exhausting and ultimately futile.”
Panic clawed at his chest. The idea of any connection he couldn’t control, negotiate, or terminate at will sent his protective instincts into overdrive. The mate bond represented everything he’d spent twelve years avoiding—emotional investment that could destroy him.
“This conversation is over.” He stood, projecting the kind of commanding presence that had silenced boardrooms full of powerful people. “We’ll have to find someone else to?—”
“Oh, but she’s already here.” Gerri turned toward the door with theatrical timing. “Camille, darling, come in and meet your new boss.”
The words stripped away his last hope of emotional preparation. Leander felt like a man watching an avalanche approach with nowhere to run, every carefully constructed defense about to be tested by forces beyond his control.
The door opened, and Camille St. James stepped into his office.
The first thing that hit him wasn’t her beauty—though she was undeniably stunning—but the way her presence seemed to brighten the austere space he’d designed to intimidate and impress. She moved with the fluid confidence of someone comfortable in her own skin, her long blonde hair catching the morning light shining through his floor-to-ceiling windows. Her blue eyes met his with steady directness, no trace of the simpering deference he’d expected from a socialite seeking employment.
“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Drake.” Her voice carried warmth, genuine enthusiasm threading through professionalpoliteness. “Thank you so much for this opportunity. I’ve been following your architectural projects for years, and the Lexington development is absolutely brilliant.”
The compliment shouldn’t have mattered—he’d received thousands from investors, journalists, and industry professionals—yet something in her tone suggested she understood the vision behind the steel and glass, and the careful balance of innovation and practicality that drove his work.
His lion paced with increasing agitation, recognizing something that made every territorial instinct flare to dangerous life. She wasn’t simply beautiful or charming. She was magnetic in a way that felt both inviting and threatening.
“Pleasure to meet you, Miss St. James.” He kept his voice deliberately neutral, professional courtesy masking the chaos beneath. “I understand Gerri believes you’re suitable for the position.”
“I know my background might seem unconventional,” Camille continued, seemingly unbothered by his cool reception. “But architecture has always been my passion, and I’m eager to contribute to meaningful projects rather than just organizing charity events.”
