After the meeting, Lia remained by the office window, trying to steady her thoughts. Leo had been unusually quiet, his cold gaze lingering on her longer than usual. She could feel the warmth beneath the ice—a flicker of something unspoken—but she had no idea what had caused it.
Leo materialized silently beside her. "You know," he said quietly, his voice low and cautious, "most people never see this side of me anymore.
Lia turned, surprised. "Side of you? I don't know what you mean."
He didn't answer right away. Instead, he pulled a small envelope out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her. Her name was written across the front in his unmistakable handwriting.
"I found this in the archives," he said finally. "It's personal. Something I haven't shared with anyone in the company."
Curiosity—and something stronger—flared in Lia's chest. She opened the envelope carefully. Inside were photographs: a younger Leo, smiling, arms wrapped protectively around a boy and a girl. His expression was soft and unguarded.
"Your family?" she asked softly.
He nodded, his jaw tight. "My brother and sister. They're… gone." His voice faltered slightly, the first crack in his billionaire armor she had ever seen. "I lost them because I trusted the wrong people. I vowed never to let anyone get that close again."
Lia's heart ached. She finally understood the walls, the control, the icy distance—Leo was a man molded by his past, solidified by it.
She said it softly and laid a hand over his. "I'm not them, and I don't plan to hurt you."
He studied her for a long moment, his usual coldness softening. "I hope… you can be trusted. Because if you can't, Lia…" His eyes darkened, haunted. ". I don't know if I can survive letting anyone in again."
She met his gaze steadily. "Then trust me."
The air between them seemed to vibrate, for the first time, with more than tension—possibility.