Beside me, Leo remained infuriatingly calm, one large hand resting loosely against his thigh like tonight had been completely ordinary. Like my father hadn’t practically collapsed at his feet begging for help.
I kept stealing glances at him.
At the sharp line of his jaw. At the tattoos disappearing beneath the collar of his black shirt. At the utterly unreadable expression on his face.
Did he poison Papa?
The question screamed through my head over and over.
I thought back to the way Papa’s hands trembled. The sweat. The sickness in his eyes. The desperate begging for my husband’s help.
And then Leo’s cold, effortless response.
My pulse fluttered unevenly. Did he do it?
I should have asked Leo for help for Papa. Instead, all I could think about was my mother. Blood on marble floors. Sienna crying. Aurora screaming. Matteo trying to shield us. And Papa standing over all of us like a monster.
I hated myself for the relief curling quietly inside my chest.
The penthouse elevator opened directly into silence.
Soft amber lights glowed across polished marble floors while the city glittered endlessly outside the glass walls. Usually, the height of the penthouse made me uneasy. Tonight, after seeing my old home again, it almost felt peaceful.
Leo loosened his coat slowly as he walked farther inside. I lingered near the windows, still distracted by the image of my father barely able to stand.
“He looked awful,” I whispered finally.
Leo glanced toward me. “Yes.”
“You don’t seem surprised,” I said.
“I’m not.” The answer sent another strange chill through me.
I turned fully toward him. “Did you…”
“No,” he interrupted smoothly.
I narrowed my eyes. “I didn’t even finish the question.”
“You were going to ask something annoying.” He chuckled as if this was all a joke to him.
Despite everything, a tiny disbelieving laugh escaped me. Leo’s expression softened faintly at the sound. God. There it was again. That terrifying softness.
He crossed the penthouse slowly until he stood directly in front of me. Up close, he still smelled faintly like expensive cologne and winter air from outside. Warm spice. Dark wood. Something dangerously masculine that made my pulse betray me every single time.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly. The question caught me off guard.
“I…” My throat tightened unexpectedly. “I don’t know.”
His gaze searched mine carefully.
“You had a good day today,” he said.
I had a beautiful day. With him. The realization felt dangerous enough to ruin me. Sienna laughing. Leo holding a tiny snake carefully in tattooed hands. The zoo lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he listened to stories about my mother like they mattered. My chest ached.
“Yes,” I admitted softly. “I did.”
Something almost possessive flickered across his face at the confession. Like hearing I was happy pleased him more than it should have. Leo held my gaze for another long second before turning away abruptly. The heavy penthouse doors clicked shut. Then locked.
