Chapter Eight: Boundaries Crossed

Ella's POV

The flicker of candlelight softened the room, its golden glow casting shadows that danced across Leo's apartment. The music in the background was barely audible, but every breath between us felt amplified.

"I've wanted this," Leo murmured, his voice low, rough with need. His eyes, usually calm and steady, now burned with intensity. His hands rested on my waist, thumbs tracing idle circles against my hips.

I swallowed hard, my body humming under his touch. "Me too," I whispered, the words catching in my throat.

He tilted his head, brushing his lips softly against mine—tentative, as if testing the waters. The kiss deepened quickly, turning urgent as he pulled me closer. His hands traveled up my back, pressing me flush against him. My heart raced, each beat demanding more.

We stumbled backward together, our laughter mixing with breathless kisses until my back hit the wall. His lips never left mine as his fingers tangled in my hair, tugging gently. Heat surged between us, my skin burning wherever he touched.

"Ella," he breathed against my lips, the sound of my name making my knees weaken.

"Yes," I managed, my hands fisting the front of his shirt to keep myself grounded. "I'm yours."

He groaned softly, lifting me effortlessly as I wrapped my legs around his waist. The shift in position only heightened the tension between us, the friction igniting sparks along every nerve.

Somehow, we made it to his bedroom, the world outside fading into insignificance. Leo lowered me onto the bed, his gaze searching mine as he hovered above me. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from my face.

"Yes," I whispered, my voice steady despite the wild pounding of my heart. "I've never been more sure."

A flicker of understanding passed between us before he kissed me again, deeper this time, as though words could no longer contain what we felt. His lips traveled down my jawline, trailing heat along my skin as his hands traced the curves of my body.

Every touch was unhurried, reverent. He took his time, learning the contours of my body with gentle exploration. My breath hitched as his mouth found the hollow of my throat, the sensation sending shivers down my spine.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

I pulled him closer, my fingers skimming over the hard planes of his back. "I need you, Leo."

His response was a mix of words and actions, his kisses becoming hungrier as we surrendered completely to each other. The barriers between us fell away, leaving nothing but raw vulnerability and desire.

The room was quiet save for the sound of our breathing, bodies tangled in the aftermath of something that felt bigger than either of us had anticipated.

Leo pressed a kiss to my temple, his arm tightening around me. "That was…" He trailed off, searching for words.

"I know," I murmured, resting my head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

This wasn't just a step in our relationship—it was a promise, a claim I silently vowed to protect. Because now, more than ever, Leo was mine.

And nothing—and no one—would change that.

I had never felt more alive.

Leo had claimed me completely, and I had claimed him in return. I had felt it in the way his hands gripped my body, the way his lips whispered my name like a sacred prayer. The way he looked at me afterward, as if I were his entire world.

And I would make sure it stayed that way.

But perfection is fragile. It only takes one crack for everything to shatter.

And the first crack came in the form of his mother.

Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting golden light over tangled sheets. I stirred awake, Leo's arm draped protectively around me. His even breathing soothed my restless thoughts, but the peace was fleeting.

Because today, I would meet his mother and best friend—two figures who, in my mind, loomed as potential threats to what we were building.

"You're quiet," Leo murmured sleepily, his voice thick with sleep.

"Just thinking," I replied, brushing my fingers across his chest.

"Don't stress about next week," he reassured me. "She's going to love you."

I forced a smile. "I hope so."

But deep down, I didn't care if they loved me. As long as they stayed out of my way, everything would be fine.

A week after our night together, Leo invited me to his mother's house for dinner. I told myself I would win her over. That I would play the perfect woman, the one she couldn't help but approve of.

But from the moment I walked into her pristine home, I knew it was a losing game.

Meredith Sinclair was a woman who demanded control, who looked at me like an inconvenience rather than a guest. Her smile was tight, her questions too precise.

"And your parents?" she asked over dinner, her voice laced with politeness that felt like poison.

"They passed away when I was five," I answered smoothly. "I was raised by my aunt."

"What a tragedy," she said, though there was no real sympathy in her tone.

I met her gaze evenly. "It taught me resilience."

Her lips twitched, as if forcing herself not to sneer. "And your work? You sell lip balms and skincare, is that correct?"

I nodded. "Yes, my brand has grown significantly over the past few years."

"How… entrepreneurial of you."

Leo's hand tightened over mine under the table, sensing the tension. "Mom," he said in warning, but I wasn't rattled.

Meredith Sinclair thought I was beneath her son. But I had been underestimated before.

And those who underestimated me always learned their lesson.

As if his mother wasn't enough of a problem, another obstacle presented itself the following night.

Her name was Sophia—a beautiful, polished socialite from Leo's past. She was stunning in the effortless way that rich women always seemed to be, with a perfect smile and a laugh that sent ice through my veins.

Leo had mentioned her in passing—a childhood friend. Nothing more.

But when I saw them together at an event Zack had invited me to, I knew better.

She touched him too often. Laughed too sweetly.

And he let her.

I stood across the room, my nails digging into the stem of my wine glass as I watched. My blood simmered beneath my skin.

Leo was mine.

No woman—no mother, no friend, no past lover—would change that.

That night, as Leo slept beside me, I stared at the ceiling, my mind racing.

Meredith disapproved of me. Zack doubted me. Sophia lingered too close.

They were all threats.

And threats had to be eliminated.

One by one.