Ivy’s POV
I pushed open the door to Leo’s house, expecting to find the quiet warmth I had come to associate with him. Instead, I was met with the sight of a woman—elegant, poised, and far too comfortable—lounging on his couch as if she owned the place.
She was wearing his shirt.
My stomach twisted at the sight, jealousy threatening to overwhelm me. I took a shaky step forward, my voice cutting through the room.
“Who the hell are you?”
The woman glanced up lazily, a slow smirk curling on her lips. She set her wine glass down and crossed one leg over the other. “I could ask you the same thing.”
I clenched my fists. “I practically live here.”
She tilted her head, amusement flickering in her sharp eyes. “Oh? So, what are you? His assistant? His housekeeper?”
A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me before I could stop it. “Excuse me?”