Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Leonid
A part of me feels like it’s being ripped out.
I watched the woman I love look at me like I’d shattered her heart into a million pieces. That look, wide-eyed, devastated, betrayed, burned itself into my brain the second our eyes met across the street.
She isn’t supposed to feel that way. She isn’t supposed to look at me like I’m the enemy. She’s supposed to look at me with love. With trust. With that soft, shy smile that only comes out when it’s just us.
The past two weeks have been fucking hell. Too much has happened.
She asked for space. I gave it to her. I understood finding out who I really am, what I do, what my world looks like… that’s not something you process in a day.
I told myself I could wait. That she’d come back when she was ready. But two weeks? Two fucking weeks without touching her, without holding her, without hearing her voice? It’s torture.
And because I can’t stay away, every night I let myself into her apartment, like a ghost, and I just watch her sleep. Creepy? Yeah. I know. But seeing her chest rise and fall, knowing she’s safe, knowing she’s breathing… it’s the only thing that quiets the storm in my head.
God. I want to be back in her apartment right now. Holding her in my arms and telling her it’s not what she thinks.
The clearing of a throat across the table yanks me back.
Lisa Gonzalez sits opposite me in the private dining room of the rooftop restaurant. She’s smiling that practiced smile women like her are taught from birth: pleasant, expectant, empty.
She’s Marco Gonzalez’s niece. The woman I’m supposed to get engaged to soon. Supposed to marry.
Marco, the bastard I was supposed to go into business with. Everything was lined up. Contracts ready. And two weeks ago, the sneaky fuck pulled the rug out at the last second: “Business only happens if you marry my niece.”
I need that partnership. The ports. The routes. The leverage. Without it, my operations bleed money and influence. So I agreed.
But I have no intention of marrying her. Because the only woman I want to be with is Laurel.
That look on her face today, God. I almost said fuck the plan.
Almost walked straight across the street, grabbed her, and told her everything.
The woman in the car was Marco’s niece. That the hand on her back was for show.
That the whole thing is a performance to keep the alliance intact until I can dismantle Marco from the inside.
But I couldn’t. If I break character now, Marco smells weakness. And weak men get eaten.
So I looked away. Got in the car. Let her think I don’t care. I hate myself for it.
Lisa clears her throat again, more pointed this time. “Leonid? You’re miles away.”
I force my attention back to her. “Just thinking about business.”
She sighs. “Our business?”
I don’t answer. I just stare at her.
Lisa’s voice cuts through the low hum of the restaurant. “So the woman outside the office building… she’s your girlfriend, right? I recognized her from the photos on the blogs.”
I lean forward slowly, elbows on the table, eyes locking on hers.
“It’s best you keep Laurel out of your mouth.”
Lisa’s lips press into a thin line. She nods once, then drops her gaze to the linen napkin twisted in her lap.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to cause problems for your relationship.”
She exhales shakily, shoulders curling inward.
“I just… I wish I could live a free life like everyone else my age. I wish my parents were still alive, I’m sure things would have been different.
I’ve been fighting my uncle for years, trying to avoid this arranged marriage.
But in our world, at twenty-three, I’m already overdue. And then he found out I like women…”
Her voice cracks. “He called me a faggot. Said I was defective. That I needed to be fixed. You know how it is in our world.”
I do. Too well.
I groan low in my throat, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “People are still hung up on that shit in this day and age. It’s pathetic. You should be allowed to love whoever the fuck you want.”
She glances toward the corner table where her bodyguards sit. Her eyes flick back to me, glistening.
“He’s going to have me killed if I don’t marry you,” she says, voice barely audible. “He told me himself. If I don’t go through with this, I’m dead weight.”
Tears shimmer in her eyes, but she’s holding them back. I lean back slightly, exhaling through my nose. “I’m not going to let that happen.”
Her gaze snaps to mine, hope flickering there.
“You just have to go along with the plan we discussed earlier. Do as I say, and soon this will be over,” I continue, “We play the part until I can dismantle Marco from the inside. You and your girlfriend can disappear, start over. I’ll make sure of it.”
She nods slowly, swallowing hard. Her fingers twist the napkin tighter. “Okay.”
I glance at her guards again. “Don’t act suspicious,” I say quietly. “One wrong move and Marco smells it. You can’t tell anyone about this, do you understand?”
She looks down at her hands, then back up at me. “I’m sorry. For dragging you into this.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for.” My voice hardens just a fraction. “This is on him. Not you.”
She gives me a small, tremulous smile. “Thank you.”
One week later.
I’m sitting in my office, the late afternoon light slanting through the floor-to-ceiling windows and cutting sharp shadows across the desk. Igor is sprawled in the leather chair opposite me, tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, looking every bit the man who just watched a long con finally pay off.
He shakes his head, a slow grin spreading. “Your plan panned out exactly like you said it would.”
I lean back, arms crossed over my chest. “I told you it would.”
We just finished the meeting with the Albanians. And Marco wasn’t at the table. Lisa came through. With her help, we were able to get access to her uncle’s private files and pull the documents that proved he’d been skimming their cut for years.
The Albanians don’t forgive that kind of betrayal. They cut ties with Marco on the spot. His territory, his routes, now mine.
Igor exhales, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I’m glad it worked. So…” He leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes searching mine. “That means you’re patching things up with Laurel now?”
My hand is already reaching for my phone, and I open the tracker app. The little dot blinks: she’s at St. Luke’s Hospital.
My pulse kicks hard.
Igor’s voice fades to background noise. “Leonid?”
I’m already on my feet, phone pressed to my ear, calling Sergei.
He picks up on the first ring. “Boss.”
“Why is Laurel at the hospital?”
Sergei hesitates just a fraction. “I don’t know, sir. She went in about twenty minutes ago. No visible distress, though.”
“Twenty fucking minutes and I’m just now hearing it!”
“I’m sorry, boss—”
I end the call without waiting for him to finish.
Igor stands. “What’s going on?”
“Laurel’s at the hospital.” I grab my jacket off the back of the chair, already moving toward the door.
“You want me to come with you?”
“No.” I don’t slow down. “Stay here. Finalize the details for the next meeting with the Albanians. Make sure everything is locked down.”
He nods. “Keep me posted.”
I’m already halfway down the hall. My thumb keeps refreshing the tracker app like it’s going to tell me something new. The dot hasn’t moved. She’s still inside.
My mind is racing faster than my feet. Is she hurt? Sick? Did something happen to her? Is this because of me?
I drive like a man possessed, weaving through traffic, blowing reds, anything to get to St. Luke’s faster. My thumb jabs Laurel’s name for the third time in as many minutes. Straight to voicemail again.
The last week has been hell.
Ever since she saw me with Lisa outside the office building, I’ve had to stay away. Completely. I had to make it look real to Marco, convince him Laurel was out of the picture, that she meant nothing, that I’d moved on to his niece without hesitation.
One wrong move, one slip that showed I still cared, and he’d have put a target on her back. So I stayed silent and let her think the worst.
It was the hardest fucking thing I’ve ever done.
Knowing she believed I’d cheated. Knowing she thought I’d thrown her away. Knowing she was hurting and I couldn’t reach out, couldn’t hold her, couldn’t tell her it was all a lie to protect her. It tore me apart.
But it’s over now.
Marco’s done. Dismantled. Lisa and her girlfriend are out of the country, safe. The Albanians have what they need. The territory is mine. The game is finished.
Now I can go back to her. But first, I need to know why the hell she’s at the hospital.
I screech into the parking garage, throw the car into the first open spot, slam the door, and run. The tracker says she’s still inside. My boots pound the pavement, then the polished lobby floor. I scan the reception area, rows of chairs, sick people, crying kids, and there she is.
Sitting alone in the corner, hands clasped tight in her lap, face pale, eyes distant. Relief hits me so hard I almost stagger.
I rush over, drop to a crouch in front of her chair, hands immediately framing her face, thumbs brushing her cheeks.
“Laurel, baby are you okay? What happened? Are you hurt?”
She startles, eyes widening when she sees me. For a second she just stares, like she can’t believe I’m real. Then her expression shutters.
“What are you doing here?” she asks, voice small but edged.
I scan her quickly, arms, legs, face, no visible injuries. But she’s pale.
“Baby, what are you doing here? Are you sick?”
Before she can answer, a nurse steps up holding a clipboard, smiling politely.
“Ms. Harper? The doctor will see you now.”
I stand slowly, every muscle locked.
The nurse glances between us, smile widening. “Is this the father?”
I freeze.
Laurel’s eyes snap to mine, wide, panicked, glistening.
“The what now?”