Leonidas stormed out, his anger thick enough to cut with a knife. The hallway light flickered as he bent to yank on his shoes, and suddenly—with a sharp click—the living room chandelier blazed to life. Carla Cox stood in the kitchen doorway, her brow furrowed hard.

“Leaving Clementine here this hour? Where the hell do you think you’re going?”

“I’ll pick her up in the morning,” Leonidas replied, his hand casual around the doorknob. “Go get some rest.”

Carla stepped closer, dropping her voice. “There’s more than one way to love someone, Leonidas. No woman can keep bearing this—watching her husband run after another woman every chance he gets.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he brushed her off, already turning the handle and stepping over the threshold.

A frayed wool shawl was draped over Carla’s shoulders, and Aunt Cox patted her arm gently. “Mr. Lopez knows what he’s doing, honey.”

Carla shook her head slow, her voice rough and hoarse. “When Leonidas and his brother were little, their father and I drifted so far apart. I kept telling myself staying together for the kids was the right call… I never realized a broken, glued-back-together family only hurts them worse.”

Parents that fight nonstop never teach their kids how to love right, how to talk right in a relationship.

Clementine never heard that conversation in the living room. She’d been skittish about Carla cornering her to talk, so she bailed before dawn. Today was her first official day at Zenith Dynamics, and Raphael Garza had personally driven her to the lab.

“Clementine. Here’s to your new journey going great.”

She caught off guard, freezing mid-step. Raphael, with his easy charisma and that faint roguish edge, usually kept things strictly polite. He was always formal—called her Ms. Stephens, or Mrs. Lopez. But today, he used her first name, like they’d been close friends for years.

She was surprised, but didn’t overthink it. She was his employee now, after all—of course the formality would fade a little. What no one knew was this: when he’d seen her bolt out of that private room yesterday, red-eyed and falling apart, something had shifted in Raphael. He’d been surrounded by women his whole life, but this was the first time he’d felt this inexplicable pull toward someone. An overwhelming urge to comfort her. He’d wanted to pull her into a hug, wipe her tears away, kiss those trembling lips until they stopped shaking.

The next morning, Clementine and four other Zenith employees were called out to Falcon Airlines. The two companies had locked in their collaboration, though how Leonidas negotiated the terms still baffled everyone. Originally, Falcon Airlines was supposed to be absorbing Zenith Dynamics—but somewhere along the line, the tables had completely turned.

At Falcon’s research facility, Leonidas was already there with all their top brass. The over-the-top setup shocked both teams. All the arrangements were already finalized, team leads were already handling integration, but both of the big bosses still showed up in person. To any onlooker, it looked like a visit from the president or something equally high-stakes.

Right after Clementine stepped out of the car, her foot caught on a loose paving stone and she stumbled.

“Watch it.” A well-groomed hand caught her before she could fall—it was Raphael. He was every inch the gentleman, his grip light just on her wrist.

Clementine’s face heated up with embarrassment, and she righted herself fast. But when she looked up, she crashed straight into Leonidas’s sharp, unblinking gaze. They hadn’t spoken or seen each other in days, and Clementine had actually enjoyed the rare peace. She hadn’t planned on joining the Wing project at all… until Raphael talked her into it. It’s the most cutting-edge development we have right now, he’d said. You’re really gonna throw away an opportunity like this over some guy?

That was all it took to convince her. So now she met Leonidas’s accusing stare with a spark of irritation.

“Thank you, Mr. Garza,” she said, her voice equal parts grateful and clipped.

Raphael kept his cool outwardly, letting go of her wrist right away. “No problem. Anyone would step in.”

Clementine nodded in agreement. “Exactly. Setting priorities is everything. I get that concept.”

Raphael misread her words, thought she was drawing a clear line between them, and a faint ache of loss tugged at his chest. Meanwhile, Leonidas caught her indirect jab straight to the ribs. Just days earlier, he’d told her, “You should understand this simple concept of setting priorities.”

She’d said she understood. And she wasn’t just saying it—she was proving it. Retribution came fast, and it stung.

Falcon also sent five team members, and after quick introductions, everyone dived straight into work. It was a preliminary kickoff for the Wing project, time to swap data and align on next steps. Around the long conference table, everyone was passing documents back and forth, talking through specs… and Clementine was shut out. Getting pushed to the margins as a new hire is just workplace 101, and Clementine wasn’t exempt.

Everyone wrote her off as nothing more than a pretty face outsider, and the tension rolled off them in waves. She hadn’t even had time to memorize her colleagues’ names, and now she was catching hostility from the partner side too. Out in the hallway, Raphael remarked dryly, “Mr. Lopez is pretty hard on his own wife, isn’t he?”

The project lead passing out materials was from Falcon, and he’d already started side-eyeing Clementine, suspicious that Leonidas was pulling strings.

Leonidas’s gaze was already cold enough to freeze the lead in his tracks, but when he heard Raphael’s comment, he turned his head. “Mr. Lopez knows he can’t hold a candle to Mr. Garza and his silver tongue.”

Raphael grinned, and quipped back, “How is Mrs. Lopez doing, by the way?”

Leonidas was tired of this petty back and forth, his eyes locked on the conference room door. It was fine. Let her feel what workplace struggle is really like. Let her deal with the hostility and the pushing around—It’d teach her how hard life gets when she doesn’t have him to fall back on. As long as she stayed focused on her career, he’d back her. He’d even lift her up to a position everyone would envy.

Inside the conference room, the whole team hit a wall. Discussions ground to a halt, no one could figure out where they’d gone wrong. That’s when Clementine, who’d been quiet this whole time, spoke up casual as anything: “Adjust the AOA angle down by 0.1 degrees.”

All the engineers went still, stunned. Falcon’s project lead scanned the blueprints fast, then slapped his thigh hard—she was dead right. No one else caught that tiny mistake.

Leonidas’s eyes narrowed, dark and deep as an abyss. Raphael glanced over at him, then turned and walked away, a faint smirk playing on his lips. Some people mistake glass for gold, and Leonidas was one of them. Raphael couldn’t even pretend he wasn’t pleased about that.

Clementine’s sharp professional skill shut up all the stuck-up experts, and she practically floated out of the office at the end of the day, glowing from her win. But when she stepped outside, her smile dropped the second she spotted Leonidas’s tall, broad frame under the old oak trees. Her bright, upbeat energy vanished instantly.

She slowed her walk to a steady, cool pace, staring straight ahead like she didn’t see him. Leonidas strode over fast, slinging an arm around her shoulders. “What do you have against me?”

“I’m not interested in leftovers,” Clementine wrenched free, tilting her chin up to look him in the eye. “Leonidas, if you’re that worried about losing face, you can go tell everyone you dumped me. I don’t care.”

Leonidas’s lips pressed into a tight, hard line. His chest rose and fell visibly, his anger coiling tight.

Leonidas’ hard, stern gaze finally softens, his face still unreadable. “Didn’t you say you’ve been dying to try that new Italian place that just opened? I already got us a reservation through Uriel.”

Clementine huffs a frustrated sigh and steps right around him. “I’m too stressed out to eat right now.”

Leonidas catches her arm gently, tilting her chin up with his palm. “Let me check if those mouth sores are acting up again. You’ve been eating garbage out there with no one to cook for you. Come home.”

Clementine stares into his deep, dark eyes. The concern looks totally genuine.

Some days, she swears he’s got a split personality.

Ice cold when he’s distant, burning hot when he’s sweet. And she’s right in the middle of this messed up emotional tug-of-war.

She yanks away from him. “You’re the reason I’m stressed out. Just divorce me, and I’ll be fine again.”

Leonidas’ mouth presses into a hard, thin line. “Don’t even think about it.”

A white Bentley glides to a stop right in front of them. Mckenna steps out, holding a big bouquet of soft pink tulips. “Congrats on the new job.”

Clementine accepts the flowers with a thank you.

Mckenna glances over at Leonidas. “Uncle, I booked a private room to celebrate Clementine. You wanna come along?”

Leonidas stares at the pastel bouquet in silence for a beat, then turns back to Clementine. “You sure you want to go with her?”

Clementine hesitates. “Mckenna, I’m so wiped from work. Let’s do it another day, okay? I’ll host, we can invite everyone.”

Even though she was dead set on getting a divorce, she didn’t want to burn bridges or ruin her reputation around the city.

Leonidas’ shoulders relax just a little.

That’s when a red sports car screeches to a halt right in front of them, driven by a woman in oversized sunglasses that hide half her face. “Hey, Clementine!”

Clementine’s face lights up. “Liberty! You’re back!”

“Hell yeah I am. And I’m ready to drag you out to dinner to celebrate your soon-to-be freedom.”

Clementine and Liberty had been attached at the hip since preschool, all the way through high school. A year ago, Liberty got shipped abroad for grad school—word is she wrote three tearful goodbye letters begging to come home before her dad finally caved.

Liberty’s little comment makes Leonidas frown so hard, you swear he could crush a fly between his eyebrows. Liberty swallows nervously, but she’s Uriel’s sister, and Leonidas’ oldest friend. She doesn’t back down.

Clementine ends up picking Liberty’s car. Mckenna jokes, “Looks like ‘Lady Marshall’ takes this round.”

As the two women pull away, Leonidas stands and watches them go, his silhouette sharp against the setting sun.

The three of them head to that buzzing new Italian spot. Even with a reservation, there’s still a wait, no way around it.

Parking’s a nightmare, so Mckenna heads off to hunt for a spot. Liberty, who’s both impatient and dying for the bathroom, tells Clementine to drop her brother’s name to skip the line.

The place is owned by one of Uriel’s friends, but the hostess takes one look at Clementine’s casual outfit, assumes she’s just causing trouble, and ignores her completely.

Clementine’s about to just leave when she overhears a woman in a sharp blazer picking up a pre-order for “Mr. Lopez,” listing off every dish by name.

Clementine freezes, her mouth pressing tight.

The name “Lopez” paired with “Mr.” is one of a kind in this city.

She squints a little, and realizes that’s Samara’s personal assistant—Yasmin, right?

“One moment please,” the hostess says, checking her system and calling Leonidas to confirm the order. Seconds later she’s smiling at Yasmin. “Your order will be right up.”

Clementine huffs a bitter laugh, but her eyes start to burn.

See? The same man who just fussed over her ten minutes ago is already arranging another woman’s dinner.

Are all men secret masters of multitasking, just built to juggle whatever comes their way?

Yasmin feels Clementine staring, turns, and gives her a polite little smile, like they’re total strangers. But any idiot knows Yasmin’s been to the Lopez family estate a hundred times—she’s definitely met Clementine before.

Clementine catches a flash of open challenge in Yasmin’s eyes.

But she’d already made up her mind to move on. Who Leonidas prioritizes shouldn’t hurt her anymore.

She’s just getting ready to leave when three tall men walk in, with Leonidas right at the front.

He spots his assistant Yasmin immediately, and she greets him. “Mr. Lopez… Ms. Stephens, if you’re in a rush, we can push your order to the front.”

Just then, the packed takeout order arrives.

Leonidas explains it simply. “Samara wanted to try this place’s food. Let her take this one first—they can whip up another set fast.”

His words couldn’t be clearer: Samara comes first.

Clementine thought she was past the pain, but her heart still twinges anyway.

She tries to play it cool, handing Mckenna a shopping bag. “This shirt is for you.”

Leonidas grabs her arm hard, voice sharp. “Who was this supposed to be for? You’re giving away something I bought for you?”

Clementine yanks her arm out of his grip. “Don’t make a scene here, Mr. Lopez. If you want one, I can grab you another one anytime.”

The two men with Leonidas snicker.

A muscle throbs in Leonidas’ temple. That’s twice today she’s flipped his own words right back on him. How had he never noticed how sharp she was before?

Before the standoff can go any further, Mckenna and Liberty’s table is ready, so Clementine walks away.

In the private dining room, Liberty cackles when she hears the whole story. “Hell yeah! That’s exactly how you treat a jerk. Clem, that shirt you bought couldn’t have worked out better if you planned it.”

For the record, the shirt wasn’t actually meant for Leonidas at all—it was always Mckenna’s. He’d spilled water on his old one earlier that day, so Clementine stopped to grab him a new one to change into later.

Mckenna chuckles. “Who knew a plain shirt could be such a perfect power move?”

Laughter bubbles through the whole room.

Meanwhile, the air in the private room next door is so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Leonidas pours himself vodka, one hand on the glass, the other clamped around the bottle, refilling the second it’s empty. He hasn’t touched a single dish on the table, and he’s already halfway through the bottle of top-shelf vodka.

Barrett, one of the guys with him, taps his knuckles against the table. “Hey, man. Did we come here for pasta or for you to drink yourself into a meltdown?”

Leonidas says nothing. Barrett sighs. “You’re this twisted up over Clementine, your niece? Word around town is she’s been making noise about divorce lately.”

Leonidas looks up. “We’ve been married two years.”

“Alright, alright, Clementine it is. But if you don’t love her, just cut the cord. Save everyone the headache.”

Leonidas’ gaze goes dark as pitch.

Unfortunately, Barrett’s too oblivious to drop it. He nudges Uriel, who’s sitting next to him. “What d’you think, Uriel?”

Uriel shoves his elbow away. “Don’t drag me into your crap.”

“Hey, I just—” Barrett stops, the pieces clicking into place. “Wait a minute. You actually love her? Then stop acting like a stubborn jackass and do something about it.”

Leonidas looks down at his glass. He wants to love her, god knows he does. But every time he looks up and sees her looking right through him, like she’s waiting for someone else, he can’t help but shut down and pull that cold, cold mask back on.

Clementine Stephens pulled an all-nighter gaming with Liberty Marshall before they finally headed back to their shared apartment, ready to keep the marathon going. After her shower, she stepped out just as Liberty headed in—then the doorbell rang.\n\nFiguring it was the set of pajamas Liberty ordered online, Clementine didn’t think twice about it and opened the door. She froze, completely caught off guard by who was standing there.\n\nThree men filled the doorway, with Leonidas Lopez at the front, leaning lazily against the doorframe. His gaze locked straight on Clementine, who was only wearing a fluffy bathrobe, her hair twisted up in a towel, the smooth skin of her neck bare to his eyes.\n\n“This drunk mess is your problem now,” Barrett Lee said, shoving Leonidas hard forward.\n\nOff-balance, Leonidas stumbled right into Clementine. She didn’t have time to step out of the way, and ended up catching him full in her arms. A sharp wave of alcohol mixed with that familiar cedar scent rolled off him, and she inhaled before she could stop herself.\n\n“What are you doing here?” Liberty stepped out, her voice sharp with disapproval that landed straight on Clementine. “Clem, have a little self-respect, would you?”\n\nBewildered, Clementine pushed Leonidas away. “What did I even do?”\n\nLiberty snapped right back: “Why were you sniffing him?”\n\n“I was breathing! Can’t I breathe? If I didn’t I’d be dead, right? I was just breathing normally,” Clementine shot back.\n\n“Not inhaling this guy’s scent you weren’t,” Liberty declared. But her protest got cut off when Uriel Scott clamped a hand over her mouth and dragged her back out the door, Barrett politely clicking it shut behind them.\n\nNow with nothing to lean on but the entryway wall, Leonidas frowned at her. “Do I really annoy you that much?”\n\n“Yeah, you do. Now please leave,” Clementine said flatly, turning for her bedroom. If she could just lock herself in there, whatever stubborn stunt he pulled wouldn’t be her problem. Stubborn as Leonidas was, he couldn’t bug her behind a closed door.\n\nBut he caught her wrist and tugged her right back into his chest. “I want the shirt.”\n\n“What shirt?”\n\n“The one you gave Mckenna.”\n\n“Tell Samara to buy you one,” Clementine retorted, yanking her phone out of her pocket. “And tell her to come get you.”\n\nLeonidas’s eyelids flickered, and he plucked the phone right out of her hand. “If you don’t like her, I’ll stop seeing her so much.”\n\n“Don’t bother,” Clementine said, smirking sharp. “Go see her, sleep with her—none of my business. Just be careful the first three months. That baby’s still fragile. Wouldn’t want to lose your brother’s only kid, would you? That’d leave you without even this lousy excuse to cling to me.”\n\n“Clementine!” Leonidas’s eyes burned red with raw emotion. “What do you even think I am to you?”\n\nClementine tilted her head, cool as anything. “I think you’re a portable space heater, a detail-obsessed gentleman, and a therapeutic power bank.”\n\nSilence thickened the air; tension always hung over them like a storm cloud. But the quiet got shattered by a voice blaring from the phone Leonidas was still holding.\n\n“Leonidas, are you fighting with your wife again?”\n\nIt was Samara Woods, on the line he’d stolen.\n\n“Everything’s fine,” Leonidas mumbled, already moving to end the call.\n\nSamara’s voice kept going, sweet as saccharine: “Your wife’s young, you should be more accommodating to her.”\n\nClementine scoffed. That line was too perfect, too smooth—implied she was young, unreasonable, always starting drama over nothing. It wasn’t the first time, either. Samara always got to be the calm, rational one, while Clementine got painted as petty and hot-headed. She used to bite her tongue to keep the peace, but she didn’t have any patience left for it now. “You’re so right, you’re absolutely right—total saint, aren’t you…”\n\nBefore she could spit out the rest of her cutting words, Leonidas leaned down and captured her lips in a brutal kiss, thumb mashing the end call button at the same time.\n\nHis kiss was intense, tangled up equal parts punishment and wild, unbridled emotion. One of his hands curved soft against her back, like he was trying to soothe the very anger he’d stoked.\n\nClementine’s eyes fluttered shut. What was she doing?\n\nThe stupid illusion that he loved her wrapped around her again, just like it always did. For years, she’d tortured herself with this back and forth—convincing herself he cared, then tearing that belief apart, driving herself almost crazy with it.\n\nShe pushed at his chest, but he didn’t move an inch.\n\n“Leonidas!” she cried, frustrated and desperate.\n\nFinally he let up, his breath coming ragged and fast. But the girl in front of him, her chest heaving with anger, held no warmth for him—only sharp irritation.\n\nHow could this be? Hadn’t she always been captivated by him?\n\nClementine wrenched free and darted for her bedroom, moving like she was running from the plague. It left Leonidas, always so cool and in control, defeated for the very first time.\n\nHe yelled after her, “Did I lose my physique? Am I out of shape? What is it you don’t like?”\n\n“Get out!”\n\nIn the hush of the night, Clementine fell asleep and dreamed.\n\nTwo years ago, the Stephens family was on the edge of bankruptcy. Her father Desmond had brought her to the Lopez mansion, calling in the life-saving debt Leonidas’s grandfather owed their family, begging for the old marriage contract to be honored.\n\nLeonidas’s face that day had been cold as a winter gale, his icy demeanor enough to freeze anyone mid-step. Clementine clutched the hem of her dress, nervous out of her mind—terrified of both his rejection and his acceptance.\n\nMarried life wasn’t as terrible as she’d feared. Even though he was distant and indifferent, he never cut her off from anything she needed materially. She told herself if they just kept living together, eventually he’d fall for her.\n\nBut the scene shifted. She was following Leonidas into a grand ballroom. Under the dazzling chandeliers, her heart ached at the sight of her brother-in-law’s blood pooling across the marble floor. Leonidas knelt at his brother’s side, straining to catch his last words.\n\nSuddenly, from the cluster of waiting waiters, someone lunged forward, a knife aimed straight for Leonidas’s unprotected back. Without thinking, Clementine stepped in front of him.\n\nLuckily, police got there in time to disarm the attacker. But the man hated her for ruining his plan, and as they dragged him away, he kicked her hard in the stomach.\n\nAlmost at the exact same time, Leonidas’s brother drew his last breath, and Samara fainted from shock. Leonidas let go of Clementine instantly and rushed Samara out, not even glancing Clementine’s way.\n\nWhen the ambulance pulled up, the police tried to help the doubled-over Clementine into it, but Leonidas’s cold words stopped them: “She doesn’t need it.”\n\nConfused, the police eventually got Clementine to the hospital anyway, but the doctor said it was too late.\n\n“Clem, you’re having a nightmare. Wake up…” Leonidas sat on the edge of her bed, brushing the tears off her cheeks. They just kept coming, endless.\n\nSlowly, Clementine opened her eyes.\n\nLeonidas kissed the tears as they spilled from the corners of her eyes. “What were you dreaming about? Tell me.”