Crystabella's POV
I couldn't sleep.
The city outside my bedroom window buzzed quietly under a velvet sky, but none of it soothed me. Not the whisper of wind brushing against the glass, not the distant hum of luxury cars or the glitter of penthouse lights blinking across the skyline.
Because I could still feel his breath on my skin.
Leo Whitewood.
The way he whispered in my ear at the engagement party, as if my body had always been his. The way his eyes devoured me from across the ballroom, hungry, dangerous, possessive.
Even now, hours later, my skin still burned where he touched my waist. My chest rose and fell too quickly. And my heart... my heart was acting like a traitor.
I turned on the light and got out of bed, pacing my bedroom barefoot, wearing nothing but a silk slip Romano had bought me weeks ago. I couldn't wear it now without feeling like it betrayed me too.
I walked to the mirror.
And I didn't recognize the woman staring back.
There was something new in her eyes. Something shaken. Open. A crack in the perfect porcelain mask I had worn for years.
All it took was one night. One man.
I didn't want to think about Leo. I didn't want to remember how my body reacted to him, how his voice made my knees weaken, how he knew about Romano and Alice. He wasn't supposed to be anything more than a memory, a forgotten piece of the past.
But he wasn't. He never was.
I touched my lips.
Would he kiss me like he meant to claim me? Would he press me against a wall and speak the truths I'd spent years ignoring? Would he burn everything down to make me see what I refused to feel?
His voice echoed in my head.
"You're trembling. That ring doesn't belong to you."
He was right. Deep down, I knew he was right. Romano had been drifting away for months, and I kept making excuses, kept believing he would come back to me. That our engagement would fix what had already fallen apart.
But Alice.
Alice was always there. Always in the background. Watching. Smiling. Waiting.
And Leo had seen it. He'd exposed the very thing I was too afraid to admit.
I picked up my phone and stared at the screen.
No new messages.
Not from Romano. Not from Alice.
But there was one number I didn't recognize. A single message.
Look outside.
My heart skipped.
I padded across the room, pulled the sheer curtain aside, and looked down at the street below.
There he was.
Leo Whitewood. Leaning against a matte-black car, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a cigarette he hadn't lit. Just watching. Watching me.
My breath caught. Our eyes met, even through the floors and distance. I felt the weight of him from here, like he was already in my room, in my thoughts.
Another message appeared.
You're awake. Good. Don't sleep yet.
Why not? I typed back.
Because I'm coming up.
I dropped the phone.
My pulse was erratic, hands trembling.
I should have locked the door.
I should have called someone. Romano. My father. Anyone.
But I didn't move.
Because part of me didn't want to stop him. Part of me wanted to understand why I couldn't forget his eyes.
I heard the elevator chime.
Then a knock.
Three times.
Slow. Sure. Intentional.
I walked to the door, my feet heavy with hesitation, but my heart pushing me forward. And before I could change my mind, I turned the handle.
Leo stood there. Dressed in black, his shirt sleeves rolled up, collar slightly undone. His eyes burned into mine.
"What are you doing here?" I whispered.
He stepped inside, uninvited, moving closer until I was backed against the wall.
His hand reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered at my neck.
"Making sure you don't forget me," he said.
"Leo... we shouldn't..." I trailed off.
He shook his head. "You keep pretending I'm not real. Like you don't remember what we were."
"We weren't anything," I said, though the words felt weak, untrue. "You were just a boy from my childhood. We were only friends."
His eyes narrowed. "I was never just a friend, Bella. Maybe you never noticed, but I always watched you. Always wanted you."
I blinked, stunned.
He took another step forward. "Even when you were busy chasing Romano. Even when I stood in the background, invisible to you. I never stopped wanting you."
"That was years ago. We were kids."
"I never stopped."
I froze, torn between the past and the storm that was Leo.
He moved toward the window, gazing out at the city, then looked back at me. "You're trying to live a life that doesn't fit you. You're trying to marry a man who doesn't see you. But I do. I always have."
I looked away, unsure how to answer.
He stepped closer again. "I'm not here to ruin your life, Bella. I'm here because I can't stay away anymore."
My voice was barely audible. "What do you want from me?"
"The truth," he said. "Tell me you don't feel anything when I touch you. Tell me your heart doesn't race when I say your name."
I opened my mouth. But the words didn't come.
He gave a sad smile. "That's what I thought."
Without another word, he turned and walked out.
Leaving me alone.
But not untouched.
Because the truth had been carved into the silence.
Leo Whitewood wasn't just a shadow from the past.
He was the storm I never saw coming.
And I wasn't ready for what came next.
I sank to the floor slowly, my back against the cold wall, eyes fixed on the door he just walked through. I should have felt relief. I should have been angry. But all I felt was the quiet pounding of my heart.
It scared me.
Because I didn't want to admit how deeply his words had reached me. I didn't want to face the truth that someone who had once meant nothing more than a childhood memory now stood at the center of everything I feared, everything I couldn't name.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
This isn't over.
I didn't reply.
I didn't need to.
Because somehow, deep down, I knew.
It had only just begun.