"You're staring, Leo," Arthur said, stepping into the office and closing the door. He followed Leo's gaze toward Sophia. "She's a remarkable woman. She's been very patient with your... moods. We're lucky to have the Logistics family tied to us."
Leo slowly turned his head to look at his father. He saw the silver-topped cane. He saw the expensive suit. He saw the man who had ordered a girl to be hidden in a sanitarium for two years.
"She is very... helpful," Leo said, his voice a flat, perfect imitation of his drugged self. "I was just thinking about the merger. I want to ensure all the archives are perfectly aligned before we sign."
"Of course," Arthur smiled, patting Leo's shoulder. "That's my son. Logic over everything."
As Arthur left, Leo looked back at Sofhia. He felt a deep sense of frustration. Why could he feel the ghost of a girl he barely remembered, but feel absolutely nothing for the woman who was actively trying to save him?
The truth was a heavy burden. He knew the story now, but the memories were still locked behind a door he couldn't find the key to. He was a man watching a movie of his own life, unable to step back into the screen.
He picked up his phone and sent a one-word text to Luca.
Where is she?
The rain in South Harbor had turned into a cold, rhythmic drumming by the time Leo's black sedan pulled into the shadows of a narrow alleyway. He sat in the driver's seat, the engine killed, his eyes fixed on the glowing window of a small, humble bakery three doors down.
According to Luca's frantic text, this was it. This was where the '' Lili " lived.
Leo watched as a figure emerged from the back door to dump a tray of flour-dusted scraps into a bin. It was Lili. She wasn't wearing the charcoal power suit or the emerald silk. She was wearing an oversized, faded cardigan and thick woolen socks. She moved with a heavy, labored limp, leaning her weight against the brick wall for a moment of rest.
He watched her through the glass of his windshield, his heart performing a slow, agonizing crawl in his chest.
He saw her reach into her pocket and pull out a small, dried sprig of something—lavender—and press it to her nose, her eyes closing in a look of such profound, quiet grief that Leo felt a physical tear in his own soul.
This was the life his father had given her. A life of flour dust, cold rooms, and a leg that would never run again. He wanted to scream.
He wanted to run to her, to wrap his arms around her and tell her he was back. But as he looked at his own hands, he realized he wasn't "back" yet. He was a man with a map but no compass. He knew the facts, but the bridge to his heart was still under construction.
The next morning at the office, the atmosphere was suffocating. Leo arrived early, his face a mask of iron. He watched Sophia from the corner of his eye as she chatted with the auditors, looking for any sign of betrayal, but all he saw was a woman trying to keep a sinking ship afloat.
And then, there was Sienna.
She was everywhere. She hovered near his office door, she sat in on the briefings, her eyes constantly scanning the room for "Elizabeth Reed." She was a shark that had scented blood in the water.
She knew Leo had changed after the gala, and she knew the "assistant" was the catalyst.
"Leo, you haven't touched your schedule," Sienna said, leaning over his desk, her shadow falling across his papers. "Arthur says we need to finalize the guest list for the merger banquet. Why are you so distracted?"
"I'm working, Sienna," Leo said, his voice a low, dangerous warning. "Go find my father. I have archives to review."
As she left, her heels clicking like a countdown, Leo saw a flash of charcoal grey in the hallway. Lili had arrived. She looked pale, her eyes rimmed with red, her professional mask held together by sheer willpower.
Leo waited until the hallway was clear and the auditors were tucked away in the boardroom. As Lili walked past his office toward the records room, he stepped out, his hand gripping her arm with a sudden, silent urgency.
He didn't say a word. He pulled her into the narrow, high-ceilinged archival room, the aisles crowded with towering wooden shelves filled with centuries of paper. He pushed her back into the shadows of the furthest shelf, his large frame blocking her path, his hands bracing against the wood on either side of her head.
The air between them was electric, smelling of old dust and the lavender she still wore in her hair.
"Who am I, Lili?" Leo whispered, his voice a ragged, desperate plea. He was so close their foreheads almost touched. "Luca told me the stories. I've seen the photos. But I need to hear it from you. I need you to tell me the truth that my father spent two years killing."
Lili looked up at him, her breath hitching. She saw the raw, jagged hunger in his eyes—the man who was starving for himself. She wanted to tell him. She wanted to scream his name and tell him about the lodge, the snow, and the way he had looked at her before the world went black.
But she saw the door. She knew Sienna was patrolling the halls. She knew Arthur's guards were only a floor away.
"I am Elizabeth Reed, Mr. Vance," Lili whispered, her eyes swimming with tears she refused to let fall. "I am a contractor for your regional office. I don't know what stories you've been told, but I have a job to do."
"Lili, stop it!" Leo growled, his hand moving to cup her jaw, his thumb tracing the line of her lip. "I felt it yesterday. When our hands touched. That wasn't a contract. That was us."