THORN AT THE ROOT
569 Words
Leona stared out the tall glass window of Elias’s study, her reflection split by the rain outside.
She had spent years perfecting how to be invisible.
To be the woman who knew everything, saw everything, and revealed nothing.
But the letter had changed that.
It didn’t just haunt her—it made her angry.
Angry for what she'd lost. Angry at the man who tried to possess her.
Angry at the woman who helped him.
Vivian.
The name still tasted like acid.
Back at Moretti Corp, whispers bloomed like rot.
The board sensed a shift. Vivian’s leash had grown shorter.
And Elias?
He didn’t hide anymore.
He walked beside Leona like it was the most natural thing in the world.
A hand on her lower back. A lingering glance in the middle of strategy meetings. A subtle but unmistakable claiming.
They were still scandal. Still taboo.
But now, they were unshakable.
That afternoon, Leona made her move.
Vivian was in the executive lounge, sipping her poison of choice—white wine at 3 p.m.—when Leona stepped in, heels sharp on marble, spine straighter than steel.
“Vivian.”
The older woman barely glanced up. “Leona.”
“I found the letter.”
A pause.
Then a smile. Cool. Serpentine.
“I wondered when you might.”
“You helped him,” Leona said, voice low. “You watched him circle me. You knew what he wanted.”
Vivian’s eyes glinted. “I also knew you were smart enough not to fall for him.”
Leona’s jaw tightened. “So you let him watch me?”
Vivian’s laugh was soft. “Please. You were a beautiful distraction. He always had obsessions. You were just the only one that made him dangerous.”
“Why didn’t you warn me?”
Vivian’s smile faded. “Because he never listened to me either.”
Leona stepped closer. “You’re still protecting a dead man.”
“I’m protecting an empire.”
“No. You’re protecting yourself.”
Vivian’s silence was all the answer she needed.
That night, Leona returned to the estate.
She found Elias in the greenhouse behind the house—hands in the soil, sleeves rolled, damp curls clinging to his forehead. She froze.
“You… garden?” she asked softly.
He looked up, surprised. “It’s the only thing I can control when the world tries to control me.”
She stepped in, slowly. “I confronted her.”
“And?”
“She admitted everything. She said I was a beautiful distraction.”
Elias’s mouth twisted. “She’s wrong.”
Leona looked at him, raw and open. “Am I just a distraction for you too?”
He stood. Crossed to her.
His hands—still dusted with soil—cupped her face.
“No,” he whispered. “You’re the reason I’ve survived everything else.”
She shivered.
Then he did something he hadn’t done before.
He dropped to his knees in front of her.
Pressed his forehead to her stomach. Wrapped his arms around her waist like he was anchoring himself to her.
“I don’t need you to be perfect. I just need you here.”
She closed her eyes, fingers threading through his hair.
For the first time in years… she felt chosen.
Not for what she could give. Not for how she looked.
But for who she was beneath the scars.
- Writer
