Heart of the Priestess

Chapter 14

The antiseptic sting in the air made my stomach turn. I’d been sitting in the hard plastic chair for what felt like hours, but the moment I saw Mr. Leandros rounding the corner, his pace sharp, I shot to my feet.

His eyes found me instantly, and they weren’t concerned—they were furious.

“You’re late,” he snapped, striding past without breaking pace.

“I—Mr. Leandros, I—”

“Not now,” he cut me off, brushing the air with a curt wave. “We’ll talk about… whatever this is later.”

Whatever this is.

Like me being here, still in yesterday’s clothes, wasn’t already screaming everything he didn’t want to hear.

He didn’t look at me again, just pushed open the door to Lex’s room with a sharp motion and slipped inside. I caught only a glimpse—Lex lying pale against hospital sheets, hooked up to monitors, his chest rising slow but steady. No movement, no smirk, no dry remark to make this feel less terrifying.

I hovered in the doorway, but the doctor inside glanced at me and shook her head, the kind that meant wait outside. So I did. Leaning against the cold wall, trying to process the fact that an hour ago I’d been tangled up with him on my couch, and now I was staring at his unconscious body through a glass pane.

They hadn’t told me anything yet. Not why he collapsed, not what they thought was wrong—just that he was “stable” and “under observation.” Words that meant nothing when your heart was still lodged in your throat.

Through the glass, I could see Mr. Leandros standing over his son, speaking low to the doctor, his jaw tight. Whatever was wrong, he clearly already had his suspicions.

And for some reason, I had the sick feeling he didn’t plan on sharing them with me.

My phone buzzed in my hand, the sharp vibration snapping me out of my thoughts. Julia.

Everything okay?

I stared at the screen for a moment before typing back: I’m fine. Something came up. I didn’t want to explain. Not about last night. Not about waking up to him collapsing on my floor.

But the second I hit send, the weight in my chest doubled. My heart sank at the thought that maybe—God—maybe I had caused whatever this was.

The door to Lex’s room opened and the doctor stepped out, her expression calm but clipped.

“He’s experiencing over-exhaustion,” she said, like that was supposed to make me feel better. “He needs to rest for the next few days. No work. No stress.”

Over-exhaustion. Crap. That was my fault.

She walked off before I could ask anything else, leaving the door cracked open just enough for sound to leak through. I was about to turn away when I caught voices—low, heated.

“Two years, Alex,” Mr. Leandros was saying, his voice sharp with a fury I’d never heard from him. “Two more years and it’s done. Over. Again. Perhaps we try another treatment—”

“It’s pointless, Dad,” Lex cut in, his tone flat, like he’d already made peace with something his father couldn’t.

I froze, my pulse climbing.

And then his eyes found mine through the narrow gap in the door.

“Rosie,” he said, reaching past his father like he could actually touch me from there. “Will you do me a favor and tell my assistant I need to reschedule my shoot?”

I stepped inside just far enough to grab the phone from the table, pretending not to notice Dio’s scowl or the way he crossed his arms like he was ready to body-block me.

“I’m not your foot woman,” I muttered. “But sure.”

The phone was unlocked—of course it was—and it took me all of two seconds to find the contact. Only one number saved. Francine. I sent the message. Her reply came back instantly, short and clinical: Noted.

I set the phone back on the table and started toward the door. “I have to get to work. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Rosie…” His voice stopped me in the doorway.

I turned just enough to meet his gaze.

“Thank you.”

I didn’t know if he meant for the message, for being here, or for something else entirely. But I nodded once before leaving, my mind still replaying those two words from his father like they were written in neon:

Two more years.

Two years for what?

The question clanked around in my head like a loose gear all day, grinding against every other thought. I barely heard Shay when he rattled off the latest finds from the dig site—something about a couple of old vases, and his ever-growing list of artifacts still buried out there. I nodded when I was supposed to. Smiled when I had to. But last night kept creeping in, pressing down on me like a weight I couldn’t shake.

“You’ve been kinda quiet,” Julia said, her voice lilting in that faux-innocent way that meant she was absolutely fishing.

Shay looked up from his notes, pushing his glasses higher on his nose. He studied me like I was part of the exhibit, while Julia picked at me like a hungry bird—and I was the worm.

“Sorry. A lot on my mind,” I muttered, trying to keep my eyes on my tablet.

“About this?” Julia sing-songed.

Before I could ask, she shoved her phone under my nose. There it was—a grainy-but-clear-enough shot of me and Lex walking into the restaurant last night.

What. The. Hell.

I snatched her phone before she could pull it back, scrolling down through the article.

LEX LEANDROS SPOTTED WITH MYSTERY WOMAN AT UPSCALE D.C. DINNER

By: Capitol Chatter Staff

Washington D.C.’s most eligible bachelor, Lex Leandros—international model, philanthropist, and heir to the powerful Leandros family—was seen stepping out last night with an as-yet-unidentified brunette for a private dinner at the exclusive French restaurant L’Oiseau d’Or.

Leandros, 31, arrived in a tailored turtleneck and slacks (of course) and was all charm as he escorted the mystery woman into the restaurant. The pair were spotted by Capitol Chatter photographers entering through the main entrance, where Lex placed a guiding hand on her lower back before pulling out her chair—a gesture that didn’t go unnoticed.

Restaurant staff confirmed the couple dined with Virginia congresswoman and state-senator hopeful Stasi Almasi, known for her sharp style, sharp tongue, and an even sharper private art collection. Witnesses say the congresswoman appeared “animated” during the evening, while the mystery brunette kept mostly quiet, sipping champagne and exchanging occasional smiles with Leandros.

While Leandros’s romantic life has been the subject of endless speculation (and more than a few tabloid headlines), this is the first time in recent months he’s been photographed with a dinner companion who isn’t a fellow model or political figure.

When reached for comment, a representative for the Leandros family declined to confirm the identity of the woman or the nature of the dinner, stating only that it was “a private business meeting.”

Private or not, the city is already buzzing—was this just business… or something far more interesting?

“Explain!” Julia demanded, shoving her phone closer like I somehow hadn’t seen it yet.

I rolled my eyes. “Okay… that wasn’t a date, but there was… something,” I admitted, trying not to sound like a middle-schooler with a crush. I wanted to feel happy about it, but the weight of last night still sat in my chest. Do I tell them he’s in the hospital? No. That’s his business, not mine to broadcast.

Julia’s eyes narrowed, Shay’s brows shot up. The questions were about to start flying—

“Rosie.”

I looked up to see Mr. Leandros turning the corner, his voice carrying that low, commanding edge that meant don’t make me repeat myself.

“Office. Now.”

My stomach dropped. I stood up without a word, the sound of my chair scraping the floor way too loud in the silence that followed, and trailed after him down the hall.