Cielo's POV
My name is Cielo.
The first time I met Leon Le Atlandas was on a rainy evening one of those rare moments when fate decides to change everything.
I had taken refuge in a small, cozy restaurant, cradling a steaming cup of coffee between my hands as the rain beat mercilessly against the windows. Just as I was beginning to relax, a sudden gust of wind blew through the open door. A splash of cold red wine from a nearby table landed directly on my white gown.
I stood up in shock.
"How dare you! Now my dress is ruined!" I shouted, my voice trembling more from frustration than the cold.
The man who had knocked over the wine muttered an apology, clearly embarrassed. I could have pressed the matter, but I didn't want to draw more attention to myself. With a sigh, I sat back down, my mood thoroughly spoiled.
The rain intensified. Minutes passed. My thin gown clung to my skin, and the chill slowly crept through me. I shivered, hugging myself for warmth. Then, out of nowhere, something soft and warm—like a tailored suit jacket—draped over my shoulders.
I turned.
Standing behind me was a man, tall and poised, his presence commanding yet strangely comforting. His eyes held the depth of a storm, but his face—so sculpted, so hauntingly beautiful—felt like a dream.
Leon Le Atlandas
Yes, that was the name everyone seemed to whisper about but rarely saw.
I wanted to thank him, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I offered a timid smile.
"Thank you," I finally managed.
He gave a subtle nod and sat down beside me. His voice was low, smooth like velvet.
"Where do you live?" he asked. "It's too late for a lady like you to be out here alone."
Then, almost playfully, he added, "This place is full of romance. I guess it's the foolish rain that brought you here."
I nodded, unsure if I was agreeing with him or simply captivated.
He handed me his phone. "Type your address," he said, his tone gentle but commanding, like a prince in some forgotten fairy tale.
I obeyed, my fingers trembling slightly as I typed in my apartment address and handed the phone back. He made a call, speaking a few quiet words I couldn't catch.
In no time, he rose and said, "Let's go."
Outside, a sleek black car awaited us—one of those luxury models I'd only seen in movies. Two attendants stood at either side, holding umbrellas. One covered me, the other him, as we walked to the car. Someone opened the door for us.
Once inside, I sat silently beside him, trying to piece together what had just happened. I should have been nervous. After all, I barely knew this man. But something about him felt safe—like he belonged to this strange night, and somehow, so did I.
Sleep tugged at my eyelids. I was just about to drift off when I noticed the car had stopped.
We were in front of my apartment.
I nearly cried from relief. I hadn't expected to get home tonight—not like this.
An attendant opened the door and held the umbrella for me again. Just before I stepped out, I turned to him.
"Thank you... so much."
I began to shrug off the jacket, but he stopped me.
"No. Keep it. The rain hasn't stopped."
I clutched the suit tighter. "Thank you very much, sir."
A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips.
"Next time, call me CEO Le."
I nodded, then ran inside, the scent of his jacket still clinging to me like a memory I never wanted to lose.