His eyes moved over her in a rapid assessment—her pale face, the duffel bag, the black folder clutched against her chest, her shaking hands. In one breath, the careful distance he had maintained for the past two months vanished without a trace.
"Liv," he said.
It was not a casual greeting. He said her name like seeing her in this state physically hurt him.
Olivia tried to hold herself together, but the sound of his voice cracked her remaining defenses.
Leo moved around Brooklyn, stepping right to the threshold. He did not ask why she was there in front of an audience. He did not make her explain herself. He did not hesitate long enough for Olivia to feel unwanted.
He looked over his shoulder at Brooklyn. She nodded, stepping back into the house. "Come in, Olivia," she offered gently.
Olivia could barely process the kindness. Her eyes stayed locked on Leo.
Leo reached out for the duffel bag, but Olivia’s fingers tightened automatically around the strap. He did not force it from her grip. He just lowered his voice.
"Liv, come inside."
Olivia shook her head once. The pain was too much. "I didn't know where else to go," she whispered.
The admission hit him hard. His expression changed, turning fiercely protective. Whatever restraint he had been practicing was pushed aside by the immediate, overwhelming need to take care of her.
"You came to the right place," Leo said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "You are not leaving. Come inside. Whatever happened, we will figure it out. But you are coming in first."
Olivia stepped over the threshold.
Leo pushed the front door shut. Brooklyn remained nearby, watchful but giving them space.
Leo looked at the black folder pressed against Olivia's chest, then brought his eyes back to her tear-stained face. He asked, his voice laced with visible restraint:
"What did he do?"
Olivia opened her mouth, but no sound came out. She looked down at the folder. The stolen money. The lies. James's voice telling her she was imagining things. The memories rushed over her, stealing her breath.
Leo took a step closer, careful not to crowd her.
"I think James stole from us," Olivia finally managed to say, her voice breaking. She drew a ragged breath. "And he used my name to do it."
Leo looked from Olivia’s face to the folder in her hands, and whatever tenderness had been there a second ago disappeared.
But when he spoke, his voice was only for her.
"Come sit down, Liv. Start from the beginning."
Chapter 9
Leo
Leo stood in his entryway, his gaze locked on Olivia. She stood just past the threshold, clutching an overnight bag in one hand and a black folder in the other. Her face was pale and tear-stained, her posture rigid with the effort of holding herself together. He had seen her upset before, but he had never seen her look so profoundly broken.
A vicious spike of rage flared in his chest, followed closely by a cold, gripping fear. He forced both emotions down. Olivia did not need his anger right now. She needed him present. She needed him to think clearly.
"What did he do?" Leo asked, his voice laced with careful restraint.
Olivia’s throat worked. She struggled to form the words. "I think James stole from us," she finally whispered, her voice fracturing. "And he used my name to do it."
Leo absorbed the sentence. He did not know the specifics yet, but the reality painted itself clearly in his mind. James had lied to her. James had manipulated her. James had driven her out of her own home with proof of his betrayal clutched against her chest. Leo wanted to walk out the door, get into his truck, and make the man regret every breath he took. Instead, he forced his focus back to the woman trembling in front of him.
"Come sit down, Liv," he instructed gently.
