“Camila,” I cut in calmly, “took exactly what you allowed her to take. The photos. The comments. The way she leans on you in public. Don’t pretend it’s accidental. And don’t insult me by thinking I wouldn’t notice.”
He stepped closer, his voice lowering, almost pleading.
“You’re wrong. She works for me. As CEO, I’m responsible for—”
“Stop.” I raised my hand. “Don’t hide behind titles and responsibilities. This isn’t about business. You made your decision through your actions.”
I took a step back, the firelight flickering between us.
“And now,” I continued quietly, “I’m making mine.”
Anastasia’s POV
The ashes still smoldered faintly at my feet as Leonardo’s anger slowly ebbed into something that looked dangerously like regret. His expression—familiar yet distant—dimmed under the pale moonlight spilling through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He straightened his shirt collar, trying to summon the calm, controlled presence he always wore like armor, but I wasn’t deceived. His pulse raced visibly at his neck and temples, betraying the storm he couldn’t hide.
I brushed the lingering soot from my hands and lifted my chin, holding his gaze without a flicker of warmth. “It’s fine,” I said evenly. “I noticed a few insects crawling in the album—cockroaches, maybe—so I decided it was best to burn it.”
Leonardo’s brows knit in confusion and disbelief as he stepped closer, the tension in his posture unmistakable. “You burned it? Ten years’ worth of memories? How could you—” His words faltered, cut off by the unintentional growl that escaped him.
I raised an eyebrow, unshaken. “Are you finished?”
The casual cruelty in my tone seemed to strike him harder than any insult I could have thrown. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair, frustration softening to something almost… vulnerable. “I— I overreacted,” he admitted quietly, his voice losing the edge it had held. “But that album meant so much to us. Why didn’t you wait? Why would you destroy it before I even had a chance?”
I let out a dry, humorless laugh. Us. There was no “us” anymore—not since he had given his attention entirely to Camila, the insufferably charming newcomer with her calculated sweetness and carefully curated public persona.