Chapter 32 – The Secrets He Keeps

Leonidas stepped into the waiting car, his expression unreadable.

Adrian, his secretary, was already inside, holding a folder containing the details of the letter.

As the car pulled away from the estate, Leonidas exhaled slowly, deliberately.

Only once the house disappeared from sight did he unfold the letter again, his eyes scanning the words for the third time.

It was short.

Precise.

A warning.

You thought burying the past would make it disappear.

You were wrong.

Beneath it was a single initial.

I.

Leonidas' grip on the paper tightened slightly.

"Sir?" Adrian's voice was careful, measured.

Leonidas exhaled through his nose, folding the letter neatly before slipping it into his coat pocket.

"Who delivered this?"

"No one knows. It was left with one of the staff at the outer gate. No return address, no signature except that initial."

Adrian hesitated.

"Should I have it traced?"

Leonidas was silent for a long moment.

Then, finally:

"No."

Adrian stiffened slightly but said nothing.

Leonidas tapped his fingers against his knee, staring out the window.

His mind was already racing.

Whoever had sent the letter knew exactly what they were doing.

And if they were bold enough to send this message directly to his home, to where Anastasia was, then that meant—

He clenched his jaw.

He couldn't let her know.

Not yet.

She was too perceptive. Too gentle-hearted to understand what he had done to keep her.

What he had done to make her his.

So instead, he closed his eyes, masking the storm brewing beneath his skin.

And waited.

The house was too quiet after Leonidas left.

Anastasia sat by the window, her fingers lightly grazing the bracelet on her wrist.

It still felt warm from his touch.

Her lips still tingled from the way he had kissed her against the bookshelves.

And yet…

Something was wrong.

His expression before he left—it had been too careful.

Leonidas was always composed, always in control.

But just for a moment—**a fleeting second—**his eyes had darkened with something unreadable.

Something he hadn't wanted her to see.

She bit her lip.

Was it really just work?

Or was he hiding something from her?

Her fingers curled around the bracelet.

Did she even want to know?

That evening, Anastasia found herself wandering the halls.

She wasn't sure why.

But something about today felt different.

Unease curled in her stomach as she moved through the house, her bare feet silent against the marble floors.

Then—

A hushed voice.

Near the servant quarters.

She paused, stepping closer.

"…He's never looked troubled like that before."

"Do you think it has to do with—?"

A sharp hush, and the voices cut off immediately.

Anastasia's heart pounded.

They were talking about Leonidas.

And judging by their tone—they were worried.

She hesitated before stepping forward.

The moment she did, the two housemaids whirled around, eyes wide.

Their expressions shifted instantly—from concern to polite neutrality.

One of them bowed quickly.

"Madam."

Anastasia's lips parted, but she didn't know what to say.

Instead, she asked the first thing that came to mind.

"What do you mean? He's never left like that before?"

The two women exchanged glances.

It was quick—too quick.

Then, one of them forced a smile.

"Oh, nothing, madam. Just… Master Leonidas usually informs the staff when he leaves for business. It was simply unexpected today."

Anastasia frowned.

That wasn't a real answer.

But before she could press further, the other maid spoke.

"Shall we prepare your bath, madam?"

The sudden shift in subject was too obvious.

They weren't going to tell her anything.

And that—

That bothered her more than she wanted to admit.

Leonidas returned late that night.

The estate was quiet, most of the staff already retired.

His steps were silent as he moved through the halls, his mind still tangled in the remnants of the meeting.

He had spent the evening eliminating possibilities.

Tracing who could have sent the letter.

And more importantly, what their next move might be.

There was no concrete answer yet.

Which meant, for now—he had to be patient.

His footsteps slowed as he reached their bedroom door.

It was slightly ajar.

Warm candlelight flickered from inside.

And then—

He saw her.

Sitting in bed, her hair cascading over her shoulder, the silk sheets pooling around her form.

She was waiting for him.

She was always waiting for him.

His chest tightened.

He stepped inside, his expression carefully schooled into indifference.

She lifted her gaze immediately, searching his face—too carefully.

Too intensely.

She knew something was wrong.

Leonidas forced a smirk, removing his coat slowly.

"You're still awake."

She didn't respond right away.

Then—

"…You were gone a long time."

His movements paused for a fraction of a second.

Then, smoothly—too smoothly—he resumed.

"Work took longer than expected."

Silence stretched between them.

She was watching him.

Too closely.

Finally, she exhaled softly and nodded.

"…I see."

Leonidas hated lying to her.

But this wasn't a lie.

It was simply a truth she wasn't ready for.

Despite the tension, she let him pull her close.

She let him wrap his arms around her as they lay together in bed.

But tonight—

Tonight, she didn't relax against him the way she usually did.

She was tense.

And Leonidas hated it.

He exhaled slowly, pressing a kiss to her temple.

She didn't pull away.

But she didn't lean into him either.

And that—

That was the first time he ever felt the hint of distance between them.

A slow, silent shift.

A crack he couldn't ignore.

As she drifted into a restless sleep, Leonidas stared at the ceiling, unmoving.

For the first time, he wondered—

Would she still look at him the same way…

Once she learned the truth?