The moment Lana left, the café felt colder.
Leo watched her silhouette disappear through the glass, her black hair catching the city lights like a whisper of smoke.
He didn't move for a long time — just sat there, fingers still curled around the now-cold cup.
There was something about her.
Something too… deliberate.
He'd met women who wanted him for his money, his looks, his power — he could read them like open books. But Lana Brooks?
She was a locked diary with missing pages.
Leo smirked faintly.
He liked puzzles.
---
Later that night, his penthouse was silent except for the rain tapping against the windows.
He loosened his tie, dropped onto the couch, and opened his laptop.
A single file blinked on the screen — "Project Luna."
He stared at it for a second too long.
Luna. Lana. The coincidence wasn't lost on him.
> "You really have no idea, do you?" he murmured to himself.
Her laughter echoed in his mind — soft, nervous, a little too perfect.
And yet, every part of it made him want to know her more.
Not because of the danger she carried like perfume… but because of the warmth that somehow slipped through it.
---
He picked up his phone and typed her number — then stopped halfway.
Deleted it.
Instead, he whispered, "If you're playing a game, Lana… I'll play it better."
Outside, thunder rolled.
And in that storm-lit silence, Leo Ayden smiled — not as a businessman, not as a lover, but as a man who had just found his equal.