Clementine Stephens hurried toward the hotel entrance, drawing in a shaky breath as soft rain misted all around her.

"Hold on a second, I’ll send someone for an umbrella," a soft voice called from behind her.

Clementine spun around, caught off guard. "Mckenna? What are you doing here?"

"Business dinner," Mckenna Lopez answered. His eyes locked on the wet streaks of tears tracking down her cheeks. "Wait—have you been crying?"

Clementine shook her head, not about to dump her messy, chaotic life on him. But a teasing male voice cut in before she could speak, "Looks like someone’s off their game today, huh?"

"Mr. Garza?"

Mckenna froze in surprise. After quick greetings with Raphael Garza, the three of them settled into the hotel lounge, making empty small talk while their eyes kept drifting back to Clementine. She sank into the deep emerald velvet sofa, watching the rain streak the big windows, blurring the street outside until the dark silhouettes melted right into the lobby’s warm glow.

Leonidas Lopez reached the revolving door just as three black umbrellas popped open outside. Through the sheets of rain, he watched Raphael subtly tilt his umbrella to cover Clementine’s shoulder, while Mckenna kept a protective hand hovering inches from her waist.

Leonidas’s grip on the cold metal door frame was so tight it left a bright red welt. How… delightful. His own niece, his business rival—both huddled under umbrellas with his wife.

Clementine politely turned down Raphael’s offer and climbed into Mckenna’s car. The second the engine roared to life, the passenger door was wrenched open.

"Get out," Leonidas’s voice was as icy as the cold spring rain beating down around them.

Frustration bubbled over, and Clementine shot back, "Get out of my way."

Mckenna bit down on a smile.

Leonidas’s eyes went dark. He drew a slow breath. "Mom’s back, and she’s not feeling well—"

Before he could finish, Clementine’s phone rang. It was Sophia Lopez, Leonidas’s mother. After Benjamin Lopez’s first wife—Mckenna’s grandmother—passed away, he married Sophia, and they had two sons: Leonidas and his older brother.

A month ago, a car accident took her eldest son. After that, Sophia left for a quiet retreat to try and piece herself back together. Unlike Benjamin, Sophia had always been genuinely kind to Clementine. In the two years Clementine had been married to Leonidas, she’d treated her better than she treated her own son. Every fight between Clementine and Leonidas ended with Leonidas getting chewed out for starting it.

After the call ended, Clementine grabbed an umbrella and stepped out of Mckenna’s car. Leonidas tried to share his umbrella with her, but his ridiculous height made it impossible. He ended up sprinting ahead to his own car, yanking the back door open and holding it for her.

Clementine kept her gaze straight ahead and slid into the front passenger seat instead. The driver, Uriel Scott, stared blankly in the rearview mirror, too nervous to say a word.

Leonidas’s expression was darker than the stormy sky outside. Maybe it was just the pouring rain, but he didn’t say a single word as he slid into the back seat.

Watching Leonidas’s car pull out of the open-air lot, Mckenna’s grip tightened on his own steering wheel until his knuckles whitened.

The ride was dead silent, thick with tension. Uriel didn’t even dare shift gears too abruptly. Finally, they pulled up to a quiet, tree-lined apartment complex. Uriel got out and let out a deep, relieved sigh.

Sophia had moved out here five years earlier, after she and Benjamin separated over their constantly strained relationship. She’d chosen to live alone.

When they walked in, Sophia was lighting memorial candles for her eldest son. She set the last candle in its holder when she heard them, turning with a warm smile that immediately pulled Clementine toward the sofa. "Look how thin you’ve gotten! I had Carla make your favorite beef stew. Come sit, have a bowl, won’t you?"

Leonidas was completely invisible to her.

Once Clementine was settled on the sofa, Sophia leaned in and whispered, "Honey, is that brat giving you trouble again?"

She’d only cut her retreat short after seeing the gossip about Clementine and Leonidas in the tabloids yesterday.

"Mom, Leonidas and I…"

Clementine started to speak, but Sophia cut her right off. "If that good-for-nothing gives you one more bit of trouble, you just sit right in front of him and eat that whole stew! If there’s any left, we’ll give it to the dog—he doesn’t get a single bite!"

Sophia deliberately didn’t mention Samara, she didn’t want to upset Clementine any more than she already was.

"Mom~" Clementine sighed.

Sophia gently brushed the leftover tear tracks from the corner of Clementine’s eyes. "If he gives you any more grief, you just tell me. I’ve got a million tricks to put him in his place."

Carla walked in with a pot of herbal tea. "Ma’am, you need to take it easy. You still haven’t fully gotten your strength back."

Sophia never recovered from her eldest son’s sudden death—it had left her heart heavy and broken.

All thought of divorce melted right out of Clementine’s head.

Sophia kept her word. At dinner, she didn’t let Leonidas touch a single spoonful of stew. When he reached for the serving bowl, Sophia smacked his hand hard with her fork. "You think you’re so big and capable, why do you even need food?"

Leonidas: "..."

The mighty CEO Lopez, the untouchable public icon of success, was stuck eating plain dry bread for dinner.

That night, the light drizzle turned into a full-blown downpour, so Clementine had no choice but to stay over. After her shower, she climbed into bed and forced herself to close her eyes, trying to block out the sound of the shower running in the connected bathroom.

Thankfully, she was usually a heavy sleeper.

But somewhere between asleep and awake, she felt someone roll her over and press her against a solid, warm chest. Leonidas leaned down and kissed her deep.

It came out of nowhere.

Clementine was completely caught off guard, until she heard him murmur against her lips, "It’s been days. Are you still mad at me?"

She didn’t know what to say.

He still thought this was just her throwing a little tantrum.

Her words never got taken seriously. Her feelings always got brushed off like they didn’t matter.

Leonidas kept kissing her, hot and desperate. When she stayed silent, he asked rough and low, "It’s been a while. Don’t you miss this?"

After his brother’s accident, they’d only been intimate once before he left for that business trip.

Clementine closed her eyes quietly. "Any hole would work for you, right?"

Leonidas’s fist slammed into the mattress. All his desire vanished in an instant.

He sat up straight as Clementine adjusted her nightgown, ready to move away from him.

But Leonidas wrapped an arm around her waist and wrenched her right back against him.

He drew a deep breath, trying to choke down his frustration, and looked down at her. "Can we just stop this? Let’s have a good life together, just like before."

Just like before—when she was nothing but a shadow hanging around the edges of his life.

Clementine couldn’t help but laugh, sharp and bitter. "Your idea of a good life is giving me the cold shoulder and leaving me alone over and over and over again?"

Leonidas’s eyes turned icy. "I admit I’ve been busy lately. But surely you get that some things have to take priority."

He ignored her jab about being neglected, only latched onto the last part of her sentence.

Tired and worn down from his endless dodging, Clementine shot back, "Right. I’m just the one who doesn’t understand how priorities work."

Leonidas hauled her onto his lap. His voice was low and rough in the dim bedroom light. "Tell me what I need to do to make this stop."

Clementine tilted her head and looked right at him. "Does stopping this mean I get to be trained like a dog, sitting obediently waiting for whatever you command?"

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.