Whispers Under the Moonlight
The last seal pressed down with a dull final thud.
Leon leaned back in his chair, breath dragging out of his chest. His neck cracked when he tilted it. The papers were done. Finally.
Outside, the sky had turned that deep, bruised blue—the kind that only shows up when the sun's completely given up. Moonlight spilled in through the tall windows, pale and quiet.
"This is... exhausting." The words didn't even make it past his lips—just stayed in his head, muttered somewhere behind his clenched teeth as he rolled his shoulder, trying to shake out the stiffness.
He stood. Stretched. Back popping. Limbs dragging like he hadn't slept in years.
Aria stood behind him—silent, still. Always proper. But even standing there like a statue, there was something warm about her. Like you could fall against her and she wouldn't let you hit the ground.
He didn't say anything.
Just stepped toward her—and pulled her into his arms.
No warning.
She gasped. Her cheek brushed his chest, and she tensed. "M-My Lord?"
Her voice shook. That did something to him.
He smiled. Not the cocky one. The quieter kind—the one that came with heat behind his eyes. "Now that the day's finally over…" He let the words hang, low and heavy. "I think we've got some unfinished business from earlier."
Her breath hitched. Just a little. And her fingers twitched against his chest before she actually rested her hand there, hesitant.
"You should rest, my Lord…" she said, soft. Like she meant it. "You must be tired."
He leaned in. Slow. His lips close enough to brush her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "I am tired," he murmured. "Maybe I should show you how tired I am."
Her eyes met his—and for one second, her mask cracked.
Then she kissed him.
No warning. No breath to prepare.
Just a kiss.
Soft. Real. Full of nerves and heat and everything she'd probably been holding back since the moment they met.
It only lasted a heartbeat.
Then she pulled away, face burning crimson like she was ashamed of what she just did. Like it broke some law in her head.
"I—I have duties. As head maid. My Lord," she rushed, stumbling over her own words. "Please excuse me!"
She turned. Gone. Like a rabbit catching wind of a predator.
He blinked. Stood there for a moment like his brain hadn't caught up.
Then he let out a slow laugh, low in his throat, shaking his head as he looked toward the empty doorway.
"You little fox…" he muttered. "Running away again. But if not today—then tomorrow. I'll catch you. I'll pin you down under me and make you mine."
He looked up. The moonlight still poured through the window, softer now. The tension in his shoulders was still there, but something had eased.
And then his mind drifted.
Rias.
That crimson-haired vixen… his daughter. Sweet, broken, obsessively his. The way she clung to him—Daddy this, Daddy that—like he was her sun and sky. The way she looked at him like no one else ever could.
Maybe she was waiting in his room.
A slow thrum built under his ribs.
Not just lust. Not exactly.
It was curiosity. Longing. Possession. Something darker and harder to name.
He walked.
Left the study behind, footsteps echoing through the halls. The mansion was quiet. Still. Every sound he made felt too loud, like the place was holding its breath.
He reached his door.
Opened it.
Stopped breathing.
Candlelight flickered low and golden, shadows stretching across the stone floor.
She was on his bed.
Rias.
Lying there under nothing but a thin sheet—barely even that.
Her crimson hair spilled out around her like blood in water. Her arms crossed half-heartedly over her chest and pussy, but it wasn't shame. Not even close. It was a tease. A game.
And her eyes—those gleaming red eyes—locked onto him.
Heat. Defiance. Desire.
But something else, too. Something quieter. Something that said: I'm yours.
"Daddy…" she whispered.
His heart kicked hard against his ribs.
But he didn't move.
Not yet.
He stared at her—his mind racing, his body already burning, but it wasn't just the obvious pull between his legs. It was heavier.
This wasn't just seduction.
This was something else.
Something that might ruin them both.