Leonardo's POV
I watched Eleanore, and from the nervous way she watched Clark, I could tell she sensed danger.
Soon enough, one of Clark's men appeared with a wooden box. Clark grabbed it, his voice tight with false reluctance. "You've backed me into a corner here. I wouldn't show this to a soul if you hadn't forced my hand."
Every eye in the room locked onto that box. Leonardo's jaw clenched. "What game are you playing now?"
Clark shoved the box toward Leonardo. "Take a look for yourself."
Leonardo lifted the lid, revealing a stack of yellowed letters. "Letters?"
He pulled one out, unfolding the creased paper. As his eyes scanned the contents, I watched his face change—it was clearly a love letter from a woman to a man, addressed to "Clark." The signature at the bottom made his blood drain from his face: Eleanore.
Letter after letter, all penned by the same woman to Clark. The words were intimate, personal—the kind exchanged between lovers.
