Leverage (COBRA Securities #32)

Prologue

Leonardo De Luca had watched Chloe Giordano survive things that should have broken her.

So as she walked down the aisle toward Kayne Serruto, radiant and so completely herself, a knot tightened in his chest that he hadn’t been prepared for.

Pride, sure. Plenty of it. But underneath was something heavier.

Relief, maybe. The sort that sank into your bones when someone you loved found her footing again.

The ceremony was intimate and informal. Late-fall weather cooperated beautifully, allowing the wedding to be held outdoors at Duquesne Park, inside the CObrA Securities compound.

The space had been transformed with flowers and enough strings of lights to rival a fairytale.

Grammy winner Layla Brooks Colton sang while Grammy winner Lyra Kee Redmond provided music. It was, in a word, spectacular.

He stood with his hands in his pockets, trying to pretend he wasn’t more invested than anyone else there.

His parents had flown in from Arizona and sat in the front row.

His mother dabbed at her eyes while his father took everything in with that calm, assessing focus he reserved for things that mattered.

They adored Kayne.

That alone spoke volumes.

They loved the compound too. Earlier, his mother had whispered that the place felt safe, and his father had agreed in his usual silent way, which meant he’d mentally approved every inch of it. Leo had teased them about buying property nearby before the night was over. He wouldn’t put it past them.

Chloe caught his eye halfway down the aisle, and for a second the years peeled back like pages ripped from a calendar.

She wasn’t the head of a fitness empire or a woman who’d stood in the crosshairs and come out stronger.

She was the little girl who used to sneak into his room and pretend she wasn’t scared when the lights went out.

Chloe was his sister in every way that mattered.

Her smile hit him hard enough that he had to glance away to center himself. He swallowed past the knot in his throat.

Yeah. She was exactly where she belonged.

He scrubbed a hand over his jaw and forced his focus elsewhere before he embarrassed himself.

That’s when he spotted Anja.

She stood at the edge of the gathering, observant and alert. Ready for anything. Even here, even now, she didn’t fully step out of that mindset. It was part of what made her Anja.

It was also one of the things that drew him to her.

The dress she wore was simple, dark, and understated in a way that somehow ratcheted up the impact. It traced the graceful lines of her body without trying too hard, and her pale hair contrasted beautifully against it.

She had no interest in being the center of attention.

She didn’t have to be.

Her eyes lifted, catching him mid-stare.

She didn’t look away.

Heat coiled low in his gut.

He should’ve snapped his focus back to the ceremony. Should’ve stayed locked into the thing that mattered. Instead, he held her gaze, the awareness between them sharpening into something that had been building for weeks and hadn’t found an outlet.

Not until tonight, apparently.

The rest of the ceremony moved forward in pieces he registered but didn’t fully process. Kayne’s voice, rough with emotion. Chloe laughing through tears. The officiant pronouncing them husband and wife, and a collective shift rippling through the crowd as everyone clapped and cheered.

Leo pulled Chloe into a fierce hug when it was over. He pressed a kiss to her temple and murmured, “You did good, kid.”

She laughed. “You’d say that if I’d married a goat.”

“Only if it had Kayne’s job security.”

Kayne grinned at him over Chloe’s shoulder, and Leo got the distinct impression Kayne knew how close he was to losing it.

“Don’t,” Leo warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Kayne replied, but the smirk stayed put.

The reception flowed behind them, warm and alive with movement, conversation, and music.

His parents were quickly absorbed into the mix and they settled in as if they’d always been part of this world.

Leo grabbed a drink more out of habit than intention, but he’d barely gotten a sip down before Anja appeared at his elbow.

“You’re staring again.” Her tone was calm, and there was a warmth underneath it.

He angled toward her without rushing. “You’re not stopping me.”

“I’m considering it.”

“Don’t.”

Her gaze dipped briefly to his mouth, then climbed back up. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

He almost smiled. “I’m aware.”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

“No,” he answered, holding her eyes. “But it could.”

That flicker of consideration crossed her expression again. It was brief, but he caught it anyway.

“Come with me,” he added, because subtlety had never been his strong suit.

She didn’t react the way most people would, with surprise or quick dismissal. Just that level assessment he’d come to expect from her.

“You don’t make minor suggestions, do you?”

“Never have.”

“And if I say no?”

“Then I’ll respect it and pretend I’m not disappointed.”

That earned him the briefest twitch of her lips. “Liar.” A moment passed. Then, “My place.”

He didn’t hesitate.

#

Anja’s apartment was exactly what he’d pictured. It was clean and orderly, with nothing out of place. It suited her.

The door closed behind them, and the air changed instantly. For a second, they only stared at each other. Then she stepped into him without wavering or second-guessing her decision.

His hands closed around her waist, bringing her against him as her fingers slid into his hair. She kissed him without hesitation, with all the certainty and conviction she brought to everything that mattered.

Whatever had been building between them finally broke loose.

She met him step for step. He moved with her, backing her up without breaking contact until the wall stopped her.

Nothing about Anja was careless.

He felt it in how she kissed him, held him, and in the measured discipline that never fully left her, even in a moment like this.

He broke the kiss, his voice coming out rougher than he intended. “You sure?”

Her darkened eyes were locked on his. “I don’t do anything I’m not sure about.”

Good enough for him.

The rest unfolded organically, neither of them rushing or dressing it up as something it wasn’t. They were choosing it deliberately, if only for a little while.

For a few hours, the rest of the world stopped existing.

#

Anja lay motionless, eyes on the ceiling, listening to the even rhythm of Leo’s breathing beside her as everything rearranged itself back into place.

His arm was draped across her waist, solid and warm. Grounding.

Temporary.

She turned her head a fraction, taking him in by the dim light of the moon. Some of his usual edge had worn down. Anja hadn’t seen him this relaxed before, and an unfamiliar tenderness stirred inside her that she didn’t immediately welcome.

She returned her attention to the ceiling.

This was the part she avoided. Not the physical side of it. Sex was simple and usually predictable. Except with Leo. He was creative, attentive, and mind-blowing. It had been the most incredible experience of her life. Everything that came after was where things got complicated.

“You’re thinking,” Leo murmured.

Naturally, he’d noticed.

“It’s what I do.”

He shifted beside her, propping up on an elbow. “What are you thinking about?”

She met his gaze without softening the truth. “You leave tomorrow.”

Silence settled between them that wasn’t uncomfortable, but honest.

“You always this fast to shut things down?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?”

She considered the question. Thought about the life she lived, the work she did, the constant unpredictability and risk. There wasn’t space for anything that could turn into a vulnerability.

Or someone she couldn’t afford to lose.

“It’s efficient,” she replied.

He let out a frustrated exhale before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her neck. Lighter this time. Not driven by heat. Just there.

It surprised her more than anything else tonight.

She let the sensation wash over her for a heartbeat, then gathered herself before the moment took on more weight than it should have.

Because it couldn’t. Leo would go back to St. Louis. She would stay here.

And whatever this was would remain inside the lines they’d drawn around it.

One night.

A choice.

Nothing more.

“Get some sleep,” she told him.

He didn’t move right away. Then his arm tightened a fraction around her, an acknowledgment without an argument.

“Yeah,” he answered.

But neither of them slept that night.