The estate appeared through the trees like a palace conjured by money and pride — marigolds spilling off balconies, cousins waving cocktails, a dhol line rehearsing under scattered laughter.
Rhea had already texted me earlier: Drop Leo at his suite. He's not just Rajveer's friend — he's a VIP. Treat him like one.
Naturally.
I stepped out of the SUV first. Before I could even reach for the door, Leo was already out — tall, silent, carrying one impossibly sleek overnight bag, like everything he owned was wrinkle-resistant and curated by silence itself.
He didn't glance around. He absorbed the place — like he was cataloguing exits before noticing furniture. Or people.
Ren hopped out behind him, bright as a cartoon. "Thanks for the ride!"
I nodded. "North wing. Rhea probably left you a welcome folder with a full itinerary and backup snacks."
"She did. It's terrifying. I love her."
And then he disappeared — no help needed, no questions asked.
Which left me with Leo.
"The east suite is yours," I said. "Let me walk you there."
We headed toward the entrance, our footsteps falling in sync. Too in sync. I became hyper-aware of everything — his height, his silence, the quiet scent of cedar and winter that followed him like a custom-made signature.
"Didn't grow up in Shanghai?" I asked, because silence was starting to feel like pressure.
"Both Canada and Shanghai," he said. "After my parents divorced, I moved to Canada with my father. Later — Shanghai, when he remarried."
His voice was calm, even. Like he was reading from a file that no longer affected him.
"You and Rajveer went to school together?"
"Boarding school. He could captain a rugby team and still outplay everyone at tabla. Teachers were confused."
I snorted. "Still are."
"He talks too much."
"He talks enough for both of you."
Then he surprised me with a question of his own.
"I've always heard about you from Rhea," he said. "I've been here before... but never saw you around."
"Oh, I don't stay here," I said. "I live in Toronto."
By then, we'd reached the guest suite door.
"This is yours," I said. "Try not to judge the welcome basket too harshly. Rhea picked it with love — and probably a Pinterest board."
He turned toward me — really looked.
"Thanks for the pickup," he said. "And for not pretending to be interesting."
"I was absolutely trying to be interesting."
"You failed. In a good way."
And just like that, he walked inside.
No smirk. No pause. No parting glance. Just... gone.
I stood there, the doorknob cooling under my palm, replaying that last line like it was part of a riddle I wasn't smart enough to solve.
And the worst part?
I wanted to hear what he'd say next.
Leo's POV – A Moment Later
He closed the door behind him. No click — just a whisper of finality.
The suite smelled of lavender and stale Pinterest enthusiasm.
He ignored the welcome basket. Ignored the faint hum of the preloaded playlist from the corner speaker.
He should've opened his laptop. Reviewed his files. Checked his schedule.
Instead, he stood still.
Her voice lingered.
Precise. Slightly sharp. Like it had been ironed before use.
But it wasn't the voice that stayed with him.
It was the scent.
Subtle. Not floral. Something cool, expensive, and unusually quiet — sandalwood softened by citrus. Clean. Controlled. No sugary nonsense. Just intent.
It stayed in his lungs longer than it should have.
She'd walked him to the door like she was completing a task — efficient, measured. But her presence was disruptive. Not loud. Not dramatic. Just... composed in a way that drew attention without demanding it.
Her outfit — muted saffron and ivory, all sharp lines and deliberate elegance.
Her walk — heels silent on gravel.
Her eyes — clear, slightly wary. And too intelligent for his comfort.
Se-Ri.
She was already in his head.
I should have said more, he thought. She might've felt ignored in the car.
He caught himself.
Thinking too much.
So, he stopped.
Opened his laptop.
And tried to forget the way she had looked at him — like she wasn't buying the performance, and might just be patient enough to wait for the truth.