why im i here

POV: Leo

Site of damage

The smell of whiskey, sweat, and regret still clung to the air like a second skin.

I stood with arms folded, back straight, eyes sharp. The back section of my club looked like it had survived a riot—one I didn't authorize. Broken railing, flipped chairs, glass on the floor glinting like shattered promises.

Three guys stood in front of me. Not drunk anymore—sobriety hits fast when Leo Kingston stares you down.

"You flipped a table," I said coolly. "Cracked my railing. And tried to take a swing at my bouncer."

The tallest of them started to open his mouth.

I tilted my head. "Don't."

He shut it.

Mr. Steven was at my side, his clipboard clutched like a damn Bible. The lines on his forehead were already prepping for war.

"I should ban you," I continued, stepping closer, just enough to make them squirm. "But I'm feeling generous. So instead—"

I flicked a glance to Steven. "Send them the bill. Double it."

Steven didn't react. That's why I kept him—annoying, but solid.

I turned, coat swaying behind me, already done with this waste of oxygen.

"You're getting soft," Steven muttered beside me as we walked. "Didn't even throw them out yourself this time."

"I've got better things to handle," I replied.

Like the boy currently alone in my office with curiosity in his bones and a gun hidden behind my files.

Steven cleared his throat. "Speaking of better things… next time you wanna play sugar daddy to some brat with attitude, maybe don't leave me to clean up your mess."

I stopped.

Turned slightly.

Gave him the look—the one that once made a guy piss himself in the middle of the bar floor.

"You really get off interrupting my private business, huh, Mr. Steven?"

He raised a brow. "Only when your private business involves underage-looking boys, missing weapons, and me losing sleep over the word scandal."

I smirked.

He wasn't wrong.

But he didn't get it.

"No one's innocent in this story," I said, voice low. "Least of all me."

He muttered something about needing a raise and stomped off.

I stared after him for a beat, jaw clenched, then dragged a hand through my hair.

The smile I wore earlier? Gone.

Kael was still in my office. With my secrets. My jacket. And that look in his eyes like he wanted to either punch me or kiss me.

Probably both.

I exhaled, long and slow, and started walking.

Time to see which one he picked.

POV: Kael

The second the door clicked shut behind Leo and Mr. Steven, the room seemed to sigh with me.

I exhaled—finally.

What the hell just happened?

I could still feel the ghost of his fingers on my jaw, the echo of that smug little whisper in my ear.

> "Are you afraid now… baby girl?"

I grimaced. "Idiot."

Turning around, I leaned against his desk like I hadn't just been cornered like a damn high schooler caught ditching class. The wood was cool beneath my palms, and everything in the office felt… expensive. Heavy. Like Leo himself.

I looked toward the door again.

Why had he asked me to stay?

Why had he brought me here in the first place?

And I followed.

> "Why the hell am I still here…"

Maybe I was waiting.

Waiting for him to come back.

Waiting for him to say something real for once, not just flirt his way through every sentence like life was a goddamn game.

I crossed my arms, staring at the shelf full of books and random trinkets. A photo frame caught my eye—blurred faces, a group of people, but Leo was unmistakable even back then. Same crooked smirk. Same eyes that looked like they've seen too much and cared too little.

I walked toward the desk drawer… then paused.he is an Asshole.

I wasn't gonna touch it.

Not because I didn't want to.

But because I hated that he expected me to.

I sank into the chair behind the desk—his chair—and let my head fall back.

This was stupid.

I should leave.

Should've never come in the first place.

But still…

My gaze drifted to the door again.

Why was he taking so long?

And more importantly—why did a part of me want him to come back?

The door creaked open again.

I didn't even bother looking up at first—I already knew it was him. That stupidly confident stride, the quiet hush of expensive shoes on polished flooring.

Leo.

"You know," he drawled, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, "I half expected you to be knee-deep in my drawers by now."

I rolled my eyes, still lounging in his chair. "Sorry to disappoint."

He walked over, eyes tracing me like I was a puzzle he couldn't quite solve. "Didn't peg you for the obedient type."

"Didn't peg you for someone who keeps guns tucked in jackets and secrets in file cabinets."

That smug smirk curled his lips. "Everyone's got something to hide, baby girl."

I sat up straighter. "Stop calling me that."

He leaned forward, palms flat on the desk, towering just enough to make it annoying. "Why? It makes you twitch. In a good way."

My jaw clenched. "You're infuriating."

Leo's eyes sparked with something darker. "And yet… you're still sitting in my chair, in my office, after I told you to stay."

I stood, slow and sharp, not backing away this time. "You didn't tell me anything. You asked. I stayed to figure out what kind of lunatic carries a gun to a bar and then flirts like it's foreplay."

Leo tilted his head. "Who said it wasn't?"

My heart stuttered. Bastard.

"You think everything's a game," I muttered.

"And you hate that you're playing it with me."

There it was.

The truth neither of us wanted to say out loud—but both of us already knew.

The air stretched tight between us, hot and electric, until Leo stepped even closer—our chests brushing now.

"You're not afraid of me," he said, voice like velvet and vice. "You're afraid of what happens when I get close."

I didn't breathe.

Didn't move.

Because for once, he wasn't teasing.

He was serious.

And that was so much more dangerous.

My voice came out hoarse. "I'm not scared of you."

Leo's hand reached up, thumb grazing the corner of my lip.

"No," he murmured. "You're scared of this."

Before I could ask what "this" meant—he stepped back.

Just like that.

Casual. Cold. Like he hadn't just lit a fuse and left it burning.

"Let's go," he said, already walking toward the door. "I'm starving. And your friend Nova are probably wondering if I've eaten you alive."

"Not yet," I muttered under my breath.

Leo chuckled—low, amused, knowing.