The silence in the dining room was thick and heavy. Hana stared at her half-eaten meal, trying to ignore the pounding of her heart. Across the long table, Leon's eyes were unreadable, his fork held in midair.
The butler suddenly stepped in with a quiet knock. "Sir, Miss Cassandra has arrived."
Leon stiffened. "Let her in."
Hana's head snapped up. Cassandra? The name was unfamiliar to her, but the tension in Leon's jaw told her this was no ordinary guest.
Moments later, a tall, elegant woman with flowing auburn hair and striking features walked into the room like she owned the place. She wore a sleek designer dress and heels that clicked purposefully on the marble floor.
"Leon," she said with a confident smile. "Long time no see."
Leon stood but didn't move toward her. "Cassandra."
The woman's eyes slid toward Hana, narrowing slightly. "And this must be... your wife?"
Hana stood, her voice calm despite the storm brewing inside. "Yes. I'm Hana."
Cassandra's smile was polite but icy. "Pleasure."
The air was sharp with tension as the three of them sat, an uncomfortable triangle of past, present, and uncertainty. Cassandra wasted no time.
"I came back because I heard about your marriage, Leon. It shocked me."
Leon said nothing.
"You didn't even tell me personally. After everything we shared?"
Hana's fingers curled under the table. She tried to stay composed, but the word shared echoed like a taunt.
Cassandra leaned forward. "You married her so quickly. Is she even someone who understands your world?"
Leon's voice was cold. "That's none of your concern."
Hana rose. "Excuse me. I should leave you two to talk."
Leon's hand caught her wrist. "No. Stay."
Cassandra's eyes flickered with something dark. "You don't need to pretend, Leon. I know how these things work. She's probably here for the money."
That was it.
Hana yanked her hand free. "If you'll excuse me, I won't sit here and be insulted in my own home."
She walked out, head high, ignoring the tears threatening to fall.
Leon followed her minutes later, finding her on the balcony. Her arms were wrapped around herself.
"She had no right to talk to you like that," he said.
Hana didn't look at him. "You didn't defend me."
He sighed. "I didn't expect her to show up. We had a... history. But it's over."
Hana turned to face him. "Then why does it feel like she still has a hold on you?"
He stepped closer. "She doesn't."
Silence.
Then she asked quietly, "If she asked you to take her back, would you?"
Leon's eyes darkened. "No. I chose you."
The next morning, Hana prepared to leave for the hospital where her mother was being treated. As she stepped into the car, she noticed something tucked beside her seat: a small velvet box. Inside was a delicate diamond pendant with a note: I trust you. L
She clutched it, emotions swirling. Was this his way of saying sorry? Or something more?
Meanwhile, in another part of the city, Cassandra was on the phone.
"Yes. I've found out who she is. Her name is Hana Park. She's not just a nurse. She's the daughter of Min-kyu Park."
A pause.
"Yes. That Min-kyu Park. The heir who disappeared. If my hunch is right… she's worth more than Leon ever imagined."
She hung up, a cold smile on her lips. "Let's see how long this fairytale lasts."
Back at the mansion, Leon stood at his office window, watching the rain.
Why did her pain affect him so much?
Why did the thought of her walking out… terrify him?
For someone who didn't believe in love, Hana was slowly becoming the exception to every rule he'd ever made.
Later that evening, Hana returned to find the living room empty but warm. A tray of her favorite snacks waited, with a handwritten note: For the strongest woman I know. You're not alone. Leon
Her heart ached.
Then a voice behind her, soft: "I'm not good at this. But I want to try. For you."
She turned.
Leon stood there, vulnerable, his cold façade cracking. "I don't want you to leave. Not because of Cassandra. Not because of anyone."
She whispered, "Why?"
"Because you're not just my wife in name anymore. You matter. More than I expected."
A breath caught between them. Time held still.
And in that moment, Hana realized something terrifying and beautiful.
She was falling for the man she had vowed never to love.
The lavish gala at the Grand Bellagio Hotel shimmered like a galaxy of stars, dazzling in elegance and affluence. Hana stood at the top of the grand staircase, wearing a crimson gown that hugged her curves and glowed under the chandelier lights like fire incarnate. The slit up her thigh, the way the fabric shimmered with each movement—it was a bold choice, and she had made it deliberately.
She was no longer hiding.
Not from the world. Not from Leon. Not from herself.
Leon had asked her to accompany him that evening. It was a business event one filled with CEOs, investors, socialites and his ex-fiancée, of course. The same woman who had tried to stake her claim on Leon in the previous chapter of their tangled story.
Tonight, Hana would not cower. Tonight, she would stand tall, even as her heart pounded in her chest.
Leon looked up and caught sight of her.
His breath hitched.
He had seen her beautiful before. But tonight? Tonight she looked untouchable. Ravishing. Powerful.
People were already turning their heads. Murmurs filled the air.
"Who is she?"
"Leon Arquette's wife?"
"She's stunning."
Leon walked toward her, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving hers. When he reached her, he offered his arm. "You're going to destroy this entire room with that dress."
Hana smirked. "That's the idea."
He leaned closer, his voice brushing her ear. "You're playing a dangerous game."
"So are you," she whispered back.
They descended the stairs like royalty. Together, but each holding secrets behind their poised expressions.
Throughout the evening, Leon kept Hana close. His arm would occasionally press at the small of her back. He would glance at her when she wasn't looking. And when someone approached her with a little too much interest, Leon's demeanor turned cold, sharp.
But Hana didn't miss how his ex-fiancée, Clarisse, glided through the crowd with practiced elegance, her eyes never leaving Leon.
"Hana," Clarisse finally greeted, appearing at her elbow with a glass of champagne. "Red suits you."
"Thanks," Hana said coolly. "Though I didn't think we were on a first-name basis."
Clarisse tilted her head, smiling. "You're right. It's just that… you've surprised everyone. No one expected you to be the woman Leon married."
Hana raised an eyebrow. "Neither did I."
Leon arrived just in time to intercept. "Clarisse," he said sharply.
She smiled sweetly at him. "Leon. You've always had a thing for broken birds. Haven't you?"
Hana tensed. But Leon didn't flinch. "Careful, Clarisse. You're not entitled to opinions anymore."
The woman's smile faltered. "Just remember who you used to love."
"I remember everything," Leon said, glancing at Hana. "Especially who I chose."
Clarisse walked away, defeated.
But her words lingered.
Later, Leon and Hana stood by the balcony. City lights sprawled beneath them like jewels.
"You handled her well," Hana said.
"She underestimated you," Leon replied.
"Did you?"
He looked at her for a long moment. "I think I still do. Every day."
There was silence.
"You didn't have to defend me like that," Hana said.
"I did," Leon said quietly. "Because I'm starting to care what people say about you. And I hate that they think you're weak."
Her throat tightened. "I'm not."
"I know."
He reached out and brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek.
The touch lingered.
Their eyes locked.
And for a brief, reckless second, Hana almost leaned into him. Almost.
But she turned away first.
"Let's go home," she said.
Leon stared at her back as she walked away, the crimson gown like a trail of fire. A temptation he was dangerously close to giving in to.
And as she disappeared into the shadows of the hallway, he realized something terrifying.
He didn't just want her anymore.
He needed her.
Back at the penthouse, Hana shut the door to her bedroom and leaned against it.
She could still feel his eyes on her. His fingers brushing her skin. His scent lingering in her lungs.
She was falling.
Hard.
And she knew if she fell, there might be no one to catch her.
Especially not a man who didn't believe in love.
But what if… just what if… he was starting to?
The morning sun filtered softly through the high-rise penthouse windows, casting a golden hue across the sleek marble floor. Hana stood by the window, her delicate fingers curled around a cup of coffee. She wasn't dressed in her usual modest clothes. Today, she wore a pale blue silk blouse and high-waisted trousers still simple, but elegant enough to reflect the subtle transformation in her.
But it was her smile that told a different story. It was the kind of smile that held back oceans of pain.
Leon watched her from across the room, dressed in his usual tailored suit. His tie was slightly undone, and he looked like he hadn't slept. Ever since the night of the charity gala the moment he saw her in that red dress he couldn't stop thinking about her.
She wasn't just his contract wife anymore.
She was… something else.
"You're up early," he said, walking over with a mug of black coffee in hand.
Hana turned to him with that soft, unreadable smile. "Couldn't sleep. Too many thoughts."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "About?"
She sipped her coffee before replying. "My mother."
He nodded. "Still no news from the doctor?"
She shook her head, and for a moment, the smile faltered. Just slightly. "They say the next few days are critical."
Leon didn't know how to offer comfort. It wasn't something he'd ever been good at. But he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. The touch was awkward, uncertain but filled with a quiet longing.
Her eyes met his for a second too long.
"Thank you," she whispered.
"For what?"
"For caring. Even if you pretend you don't."
He didn't reply. He just took a step back, emotionally retreating again.
That afternoon, Hana visited the hospital. Her mother was sleeping, hooked up to machines, her frail body looking even smaller than usual. Hana held her hand tightly.
"You have to get better, Mom," she whispered. "I'm doing everything I can. Even things that hurt."
Outside the hospital room, a man watched her silently. Dressed in a crisp gray suit, he had sharp features and eyes full of calculation.
It was Richard the private investigator she had secretly hired months ago.
He approached her with a folder.
"I found something," he said.
Hana's heart skipped a beat. "You did?"
Richard handed her the folder. "Your adoption records. And the original birth certificate."
She opened the file with trembling hands. There it was her full name: Hana Ainsley Sinclair. Daughter of Eleanor and James Sinclair.
A billionaire family. Hidden. Forgotten. Lost.
"I knew it," she whispered, her voice cracking.
Richard leaned closer. "They've been looking for you too. But someone's been blocking the trail."
"Who?" she asked.
"I don't know yet. But I have a few leads. One name keeps popping up."
"Whose?"
Richard hesitated. "Camilla Vaughn."
Hana's blood ran cold.
Leon's ex-fiancée.
Later that night, back at the penthouse, Hana cooked dinner something simple. Leon walked in, loosened his tie, and was surprised to see the table set.
"You cooked?"
She nodded. "You haven't eaten all day."
They sat in silence, but there was something different in the air. It was no longer cold. Just… cautious.
"Hana," Leon said suddenly. "Are you hiding something from me?"
Her hand paused on her spoon. "Why do you ask?"
"Because you smile like everything's fine. But I can see it in your eyes. Something's hurting you."
She swallowed hard. "There are things about me you don't know. And I'm not sure you're ready to hear them."
"I'm not afraid of secrets," he said. "I just don't want to be lied to."
Hana looked up. Her voice barely a whisper. "Neither do I."
Later that night, while Leon was in his study, Hana sat on the balcony, looking at the stars. She held the folder from Richard tightly in her arms.
She had a choice.
To tell him the truth now or wait until she could uncover the full story.
One thing was certain: the smile she wore around Leon wasn't just a mask anymore.
It was her shield.
To protect the man who might just break her heart.
And the world that might not be ready to accept the billionaire heiress she truly was.