Chapter 5
1251 Words
Leona was halfway through a sip of champagne when she felt it—the unmistakable presence of him.
Ian Caldwell.
It wasn’t anything as dramatic as a sudden hush in the room or a gasp from the crowd. No, it was something worse. The slow, crawling awareness that slithered down her spine, the way the air shifted when someone you once knew too wellwas near.
She didn’t turn immediately. She refused to give him the satisfaction. Instead, she took her time, adjusting her expression into something cool and unreadable.
Then, as if drawn by some masochistic instinct, she finally met his gaze.
Ian stood a few feet away, a drink in hand, dressed in a black tux that should have made him look polished—except it didn’t.
Not to her. Not anymore.
Because all she could see was the lie.
The half-buttoned shirt in that dimly lit hotel room. The lipstick smudges that weren’t hers. The guilty expression that had flickered across his face right before she punched him.
And yet, here he was.
Standing in her gala. At her event. Like he still belonged in her life.
Like he had any right to be here at all.
“Leona,” Ian said smoothly, as if this was just another evening, another conversation. As if he hadn’t just shattered years of trust with a single betrayal.
Maya tensed beside her, instantly on high alert. “Oh, hell no.”
Leona gave a slow, measured exhale. “Maya.”
“No,” Maya hissed. “I refuse to let him breathe the same air as you right now. Security? Security!” She started to turn, but Leona caught her wrist, stopping her.
She wasn’t going to let Ian ruin this night.
But she was going to deal with him.
“Five minutes,” she murmured to Maya. “Then you can call security.”
Maya frowned. “You sure?”
Leona nodded once. “I’ve got this.”
Maya hesitated, then reluctantly backed away. But not before whispering, “You know I have pepper spray in my clutch, right?”
Leona smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
With that, she turned fully to Ian, arms crossed, expression sharp. “You’ve got five minutes. Use them wisely.”
Ian exhaled, stepping closer. “Leona, I—”
She held up a hand. “No. You don’t get to start with my name like that. Like you miss me. Like we’re about to have some heartfelt conversation where you explain yourself and I forgive you.” She tilted her head. “Let’s skip to the part where you tell me why you’re actually here.”
Ian had the nerve to look… hurt.
But Leona wasn’t falling for that again.
“I came to talk to you,” he said. “To explain.”
She let out a laugh—sharp, humorless. “Explain what, exactly? The part where you lied to me? Or the part where you slept with Rachel?”
Ian flinched. Just slightly. But Leona caught it.
Good.
She wanted him to feel everything.
“Leona,” he sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. “You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”
Her jaw tightened. “Oh, that’s what you’re sorry about? Not the act itself—just the way I found out?”
Ian shifted, uncomfortable. “It wasn’t—” He stopped himself. Inhaled. “It wasn’t serious.”
Leona felt a cold, bitter laugh bubble up. “Oh, good to know.”
“It didn’t mean anything.”
She exhaled sharply. “And somehow, you think that makes it better?”
Ian stepped closer. Too close. “Leona, you know I love you.”
“Do I?”
Silence.
And for the first time since this conversation started, she saw it. The flicker of panic in his gaze. The realization that he was losing control of the situation.
Because this wasn’t going like his usual apologies.
She wasn’t crying. She wasn’t letting him manipulate the narrative. She wasn’t falling into his arms, willing to smooth over the cracks.
She was done.
“Look,” Ian tried again, voice lower. “I made a mistake. But we can fix this.”
Leona arched a brow. “Fix this?”
“We’ve been together for years, Leona.” He reached for her hand, but she stepped back. His fingers curled into a fist. “You’re just going to throw that away?”
She inhaled slowly. Then, with steady, deliberate words, she said—
“You threw it away the second you chose her.”
Ian’s jaw clenched. “I was drunk.”
“Oh, right,” she drawled. “Because being drunk completely negates personal responsibility.”
“I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, Ian,” she said softly. “You were thinking about yourself. About what you could get away with. About what you could take without losing anything.”
He exhaled sharply, his frustration barely contained. “So that’s it? You’re just done?”
She smiled. Cold. Final.
“I was done the moment I hit you in the face.”
Ian’s expression darkened. For the first time, the charming mask slipped, and she saw the real Ian—the one who never handled rejection well.
“That kiss,” he muttered, voice lower. “With Vale.”
Ah.
There it was.
The real reason he was here.
It wasn’t because he regretted losing her.
It was because he hated seeing her with someone else.
Leona exhaled, tilting her head slightly. “That bothered you, huh?”
Ian’s eyes flickered. “Leona—”
She leaned in, just slightly, just enough to lower her voice into something almost mockingly soft.
“Well, Ian. Here’s something funny,” she mused. “That kiss? That wasn’t a mistake.”
Ian’s nostrils flared.
But before he could say another word—
“You heard the lady.”
A new voice.
Low. Smooth. Dangerous.
Leona turned just as Rhyder Vale stepped into the space beside her, whiskey in hand, gaze sharp.
Ian stiffened immediately.
Rhyder smirked. “She’s done.”
Ian’s fingers twitched, his jaw tight. “This isn’t your business, Vale.”
Rhyder hummed. “See, that’s where you’re wrong.” He took a sip of his drink, then added, “Because when a man disrespects a woman in my presence, it becomes very much my business.”
Leona blinked.
That was…
Unexpectedly hot.
Ian let out a slow breath, jaw ticking, but he didn’t argue.
Because what could he say?
Rhyder Vale wasn’t just any man. He was power. Wealth. Influence.
And Ian Caldwell?
Ian was nothing in comparison.
After a long, tense moment, Ian exhaled sharply. “Fine.” He adjusted his cufflinks, straightening. “This conversation isn’t over, Leona.”
She smirked. “Oh, I assure you, it is.”
Ian’s lips pressed into a thin line, but he said nothing more. Instead, he turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind nothing but his defeat.
Leona exhaled slowly.
“Well,” Rhyder murmured, watching Ian’s retreating figure. “That was fun.”
Leona huffed out a laugh. “You have an interesting definition of fun.”
Rhyder smirked. “And you have an interesting habit of kissing billionaires under mistletoe.”
Leona rolled her eyes.
But even as she turned away, she couldn’t quite ignore the warmth curling in her chest.
Because for the first time tonight…
She felt good.
- Writer
