Leon’s car rolled smoothly into the underground parking of Blackwood Tower.The security gates lifted the moment his vehicle approached, scanners flashing briefly before turning green. No questions were asked. No confirmations requested. The building recognized him before any human needed to.He stepped out, straightened his jacket, and walked toward the private elevator reserved for the top floor.The moment the doors closed, the noise of the city vanished, and silence settled around him. Only then did Leon allow his expression to change.The calm he had maintained outside slowly faded into something colder, deeper. Aria Whitlock’s shrill accusations replayed in his mind, not as anger, but as an unpleasant residue, as if dirt was clinging to the sole of his shoe. He did not care about humiliation. He had lived through far worse than public insults and false accusations.What irritated him was a lack of discipline, personal boundaries, and a father who had allowed his daughter to grow

Leon did not sleep well that night. The house was quiet, the kind of quiet that should have been comforting, but his mind refused to slow. Mia’s relieved smile replayed itself again and again, followed immediately by the memory of how pale she had looked when she first saw the car. That split second of fear on her face lingered like a thorn in his chest. He lay on his back, one arm folded beneath his head, eyes open in the darkness. Too close, he thought. He had been careless. One misstep, and the fragile balance he had maintained for years could have cracked wide open. Mia trusted him—not blindly, but sincerely. That trust deserved better than hurried excuses and half-truths stacked on top of one another. Tomorrow, he decided. No more delays. When dawn broke, Leon was already awake. He moved quietly through the house, washing up, changing into clean clothes, careful not to wake Mia. She looked peaceful in sleep, her brows finally smooth, the tension of the previous day eased.

The Grand Aurora Hall was brighter than Mia had imagined.Crystal chandeliers spilled light like waterfalls from the ceiling, scattering reflections across marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Oversized arches were wrapped in pastel ribbons, and towering floral installations shaped like storybook castles lined the entrance. Everything screamed fairy tale, Disney elegance softened with glossy Barbie pinks. It was extravagant to the point of excess.Mia slowed the moment they stepped inside.“Wow,” Clara breathed. “This is… a lot for a kid’s birthday.”Her mother nodded, eyes already scanning the decor with awe. “They really went all out. Poor child will grow up spoiled.”Leon walked a step behind them, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.He had known.But even he had not expected this scale.Staff in tailored uniforms guided guests inward, their movements smooth and rehearsed. Children’s laughter echoed faintly somewhere deeper in the hall, blending with soft orchestral m

The applause lingered far longer than Leon expected, swelling and echoing beneath the crystal chandeliers like an unending wave. He remained seated, his posture composed, his expression unchanged, as if the mayor had not just spoken his name aloud before half the city’s elite.Mia, however, felt frozen in place.Around them, whispers rose openly now, no longer restrained.“Blackwood?”“As in… that Blackwood?”“Why would he be here with the Quinn family?”Mia turned slowly to Leon, her fingers tightening against the edge of the table. “Leon,” she said in a low voice, carefully controlled, “what does he mean by that?”Leon met her gaze. There was no panic in his eyes, no guilt, only a quiet steadiness that somehow made her chest feel even tighter.“I will explain later,” he said softly. “This is not the place.”Before Mia could press him further, the mayor’s voice rang out again from the stage, warm and booming.“Mr. Blackwood is a dear friend of our family,” he continued, clearly enjoy

Mia had not meant to follow him so closely.At first, she had only intended to catch up, to tug lightly at his sleeve and ask him what the whole absurd situation was about, why he had been called a “special guest". Why had the mayor’s daughter looked at him as though the entire celebration revolved around his presence? None of it made sense to her, and the unease in her chest had grown too heavy to ignore.But Leon had walked faster than usual, his stride long and purposeful, heading toward the garden without looking back. By the time Mia realized she was trailing him, the distance between them had already widened.She slowed instinctively.The garden lay ahead, softly lit, secluded from the main hall by tall hedges and winding stone paths. Voices carried there more easily, unbroken by music or laughter. Mia stopped near the edge of the hedge, hidden just enough by shadow and leaves, her footsteps stilled by something she could not quite name.Then she heard his voice.Calm. Familiar