54. Leo
54
Leo
I t’s moving day.
The penthouse is a goddamn zoo. Boxes everywhere. Movers, carefully vetted by Charlie and his team, navigating my minimalist sculptures like they’re diffusing a fucking bomb.
And in the middle of it all, Sabrina, directing traffic, while Mia, strapped securely into some kind of baby-carrying contraption on her chest, gurgles happily.
Sabrina and Mia are taking up permanent residence in Fortress Maxwell. Sabrina’s giving up the lease on her Brooklyn brownstone. Her mother, Diane, after a surprisingly tearful and non-judgmental goodbye breakfast this morning, is on a plane back to Chicago.
And my life, the one I thought I had so carefully curated, so ruthlessly controlled, has been completely and wonderfully fucking hijacked.
I watch Sabrina unpack a box labeled ‘Mia’s Giraffes – Handle With Extreme Care.’ It’s filled with an alarming assortment of plush, squeaky, and slightly chewed-on giraffes.
She carefully arranges them on a shelf in the nursery. My nursery. Mia’s nursery.
Our nursery.
Helping her unpack her modest possessions, a lifetime of memories and dreams packed into cardboard boxes, feels… strange.
My ridiculously expensive, museum-quality Italian leather sofa now sports a slightly-stained-but-clearly-loved Winnie the Pooh throw blanket. My custom-built, temperature-controlled wine cellar is probably about to be invaded by organic apple juice boxes.
And you know what?
I don’t fucking care.
In fact, looking around at this new, slightly chaotic, undeniably lived-in version of my penthouse, I realize just how empty, how sterile, all the wealth and luxury felt before them.
My phone buzzes.
Caller ID: Jonathan Pierce.
That would be one of my oldest Limited Partners.
Here we go.
“Leo,” Jon says. “Just wanted to touch base. Frankly, some of us are a little concerned about all these lifestyle changes happening all at once. About whether your focus might be… diluted.”
The old Leo would have bristled. Maybe even hung up.
But the new Leo?
The one who spent last night tangled in Sabrina’s arms, with Mia sleeping peacefully in the next room?
He just smiles.
Fucking smiles .
“Jonathan,” I say. “My priorities haven’t been diluted. They’ve evolved. The focus you’re worried about? It’s sharper than ever. But it’s no longer about proving myself through reckless risks.” I glance over at Sabrina, who’s now trying to assemble a ridiculously complicated-looking baby bouncer. “I’ve found something… someone … worth building for. A legacy that’s about more than just billion-dollar exits. And frankly? It’s making me a better, more focused investor than I’ve ever been. If you stay with us, your fund will see better returns than you’ve ever possibly imagined.”
There’s a pause on the other end of the line. Then, a chuckle.
“Well, Leo,” Pierce says, a new note of respect in his voice. “I have to admit, that’s not what I expected to hear. But… I like it. In fact, I like it a lot. Consider our current investment secured. And let’s schedule a meeting next week. I want to hear more about this… new vision for Maxwell Capital.”
When I hang up, a slow grin spreads across my face.
Sabrina’s PR strategy, her quiet confidence in me, in this new narrative… it’s fucking working. Many of the old LPs from Maxwell & Briggs, have chosen to stay with Maxwell Capital. They see the change. They see the focus. They see… well, maybe they see the man Sabrina is helping me become.
A few have followed Luca, of course. Chasing that fool’s gold of reckless returns. Let them. Their loss.
New investors are also already making inquiries. Serious ones.
The future for Maxwell Capital, despite Luca’s dramatic exit, despite the tabloid shitstorm, is actually looking… bright.
And even if it all went to hell tomorrow? Even if Maxwell Capital imploded? I’ve still made more money than I can spend in a dozen lifetimes.
Money doesn’t even fucking matter anymore. Not in the way it used to.
Because now? Now I’m doing this because I want to. Because I believe in it. Because I want to build something that lasts. Something that makes a difference. Investing in companies that aren’t just about flipping for a quick profit, but about actually… helping the world.
Companies I can hold onto for the long term. A legacy for Mia.
Sabrina finally conquers the baby bouncer, a triumphant whoop escaping her lips. She looks up, catches me watching her, and blushes.
“What?” she asks, her eyes sparkling.
“Nothing,” I say, walking towards her and pulling her into my arms. “Just… admiring the view.” I kiss her, tasting her, savoring her.
“So,” she murmurs against my lips as her arms wind around my neck. “Moving day. Officially official. You sure you’re ready for this, Leo? Full-time domesticity?”
“Ready?” I say, nuzzling her neck, inhaling her scent. “Sabrina, I’ve never been more fucking ready for anything in my entire life.”