Venomous Love

Frozen Hearts

The next morning, Dior entered Leander's office with clipped steps, her expression hardened into an icy mask. She set his coffee on his desk, ensuring her fingers never brushed his. Her voice was clipped, professional. "Your nine o'clock is here, boss.” Leander looked up from his papers, his eyes flickering to Dior's cold expression. For a moment, he just stared, as if searching for the woman who had cried in his arms the night before. When he spoke, his voice was measured, neutral. "Thank you, Dior.” Dior paused at the door, her back straight as she addressed him without looking back. "Will there be anything else, Boss?" Her voice was colder, more distant than it had ever been. Leander's eyes narrowed slightly at the change in title, but he said nothing. "No. That will be all." His voice was carefully neutral, but there was an undercurrent of tension - whether anger or hurt, she couldn't tell, and found she didn't care. She closed the door firmly behind her, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Over the next few days, the dynamic between Dior and Leander shifted. Dior became meticulously professional, avoiding any personal conversation and never staying in the office longer than necessary. Every interaction was strictly about work, and she ensured her body language was distant. Leander, on the other hand, seemed to throw himself into work even more intensely than before. He was demanding, often snapping at Dior over minor mistakes she rarely made before. His eyes held a coldness that was unnerving, but Dior refused to let it affect her.

Suddenly, his phone buzzed with a message. A simple line of text - "War tonight. We need you." His jaw tightened as he read it. He emerged from his office, his expression thunderous. "Cancel the rest of my appointments. I have an urgent matter to attend to.” Dior looked up briefly as Leander issued his command, her icy demeanor unwavering. She merely nodded, her voice devoid of emotion. "As you wish, Boss. Your schedule is cleared." She returned to her paperwork without further acknowledgment, clearly unimpressed by the sudden urgency. Leander watched her for a moment, his expression inscrutable. He wanted to say something, anything, to break through the wall she had erected between them. But he bit back his words, turning sharply and leaving the office without another glance. "Lock up when you leave,”

After he left, Dior found herself unable to focus on her tasks. Her mind kept wandering back to the urgent matter Leander had mentioned. She knew he was involved in some shady business, but this was different. This was a war. She worried for his safety, despite her cold exterior.

Meanwhile, Leander and Lucius, his most trusted capo, arrived at the meeting point of his gang. He was handed a gun, his expression dark and dangerous. "Boss," one of his men approached him. "It's a full-scale war tonight. The Saints are making a move for our territory." Leander's eyes hardened. The night was filled with gunshots and screams. Leander led his men, fighting fiercely. He took down three enemies before he was suddenly tackled from behind. A knife pressed against his throat. "You're dead tonight, Leander." The voice was cold and familiar. Leander's eyes widened in recognition as the man stumbled back. It was Luke Volkov, brother of Alexei—their rival gang leaders. Leander straightened, wiping blood from his cheek. "Should've known Alexei would send her puppy to do her dirty work.” Luke laughed, a cold, maniacal sound. "Alexei wanted you dead personally, but she had other business to attend to tonight. So she sent me." He lunged again, knife glinting under the dim streetlight. Leander dodged the attack, pulling his own knife from his belt. He and Luke circled each other, the fight becoming more personal. Leander could see the resemblance between Luke and Alexei—the same cold eyes, the same ruthless expression. As they fought, Luke hissed through clenched teeth, "Alexei will be pleased to hear I killed you with my own hands." Leander's expression darkened, his grip tightening around his knife. He knew Alexei was the real threat, not her brother. With a sudden burst of speed, Leander disarmed Luke and pressed his own knife to the other man's throat. He leaned in close, voice low and threatening. "Tell Alexei... she'll have to kill me herself if she wants me dead." He pushed Luke away, sending him stumbling. Luke picked himself up, spitting blood onto the ground. "You're dead, Leander. Alexei won't rest until she's avenged me." He turned to leave, but paused. "And by the way... your little assistant is a pretty thing. Shame she's always so cold.” Leander's voice dripped with venom as he corrected Luke. "Dior is my personal assistant, not some secret affair. She handles my schedule, my meetings, and occasionally... other tasks." He paused deliberately, letting his gaze linger on Luke's face. Luke sneered, "A pretty face like that must be good for more than just scheduling." Leander's expression darkened further, his hand tightening around the knife. "Watch your mouth Luke. Dior is off-limits. She's not some w***e you can throw insults at.” Luke laughed mockingly, "Oh, so the great Leander has a soft spot for his icy assistant? How... cute." With a final glare, he turned and walked away, shouting over his shoulder, "Tell Dior I said hi... and that Alexei's looking forward to knowing more about her”.

Just as Luke disappeared into the shadows, another figure lunged from a nearby alley, knife glinting in the weak light. Leander felt a sharp pain in his side as the blade pierced his flesh. He grunted, twisting away as blood darkened his shirt. "f*****g…”

Lucius, called Dior's phone, his voice grave. "Dior, listen to me. Leander's been stabbed. We're taking him to the penthouse now. The doctor is on his way.”

Dior rushed into Leander's penthouse, Lucius was waiting for her in the living room, his expression grim. He stood up as she entered, his tall frame blocking her view of the rest of the room. "Dior," he said curtly, "He's upstairs.” Dior hurried upstairs, her heart pounding in her chest. As she entered the bedroom, she saw the private doctor, Leander kept on retainer leaning over him, his hands moving quickly as he cleaned the wound and applied bandages. Leander's men stood around the bed, their faces etched with concern. Dior's eyes widened in horror as she took in the sight of Leander's bloodstained shirt, the fabric torn to reveal a deep gash along his left side. The doctor was working quickly and efficiently, but the amount of blood already cleaned up suggested the wound was severe.

As the doctor finished bandaging the wound, Leander's eyes flickered open, finding Dior standing nearby. His lips moved, trying to speak, but the doctor shushed him, "Rest, sir. You've lost too much blood." Leander's men exchanged worried glances. Leander's gaze remained locked onto Dior, his eyes filled with a silent message. Ignoring the doctor's orders, he weakly lifted his hand towards her. Lucius, standing by the door, stepped forward, his voice soft but firm, "Dior, out. Now.” Dior hesitated, torn between staying to ensure Leander was alright and obeying Lucius' command. But one look at the stern expression on Lucius' face, and she knew better than to disobey him. She cast one last concerned look at Leander before following Lucius out of the room.

Once they were out in the hallway, Lucius turned to face her, his voice dropping to a whisper but maintaining its authority. "He doesn't want you seeing him like this. His men will handle the rest - you know how proud he is." His expression softened slightly, noticing her worried expression. Dior nodded reluctantly, taking a deep breath to compose herself. "What do you need me to do, Lucius?" she asked, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside her. She straightened her jacket, already shifting into work mode. Lucius cracked a small smile at her dedication. "Cover for him," Lucius said, his eyes serious. "No one can know about this - not the media, not his business partners. Make up an excuse for why he's not answering calls or meetings. His men will keep him sedated tonight, he lost a lot of blood.” Dior's jaw clenched, determination flashing in her eyes. She knew the drill - Leander's reputation was everything, and she was one of the few who understood what was truly at stake. "I'll say he's negotiating an urgent international deal. No conferences." She turned to leave, then paused. Lucius nodded approvingly at her quick thinking. Before she walked away, he added, "And Dior? Make sure you look convincing. You know how vultures circle when they smell blood." He meant it both literally and metaphorically—Leander's enemies would pounce on any sign of weakness. Dior gave a sharp nod, understanding the gravity of the situation. She turned and walked briskly down the hallway, her heels clicking sharply on the polished floor.

As she made her way to Leander's office, she pulled out her phone and began drafting an email to his business partners and key contacts. Dior's fingers flew over the keyboard, her message concise and authoritative. "Due to an urgent international negotiation, Mr. Leander will be unavailable for the next few days. All meetings and conferences are postponed until further notice. Thank you for your understanding.” As Dior hit send, she leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply. Her eyes drifted towards the closed door across the hallway. She tapped a pen nervously against her desk, her mind racing. Suddenly, Lucius appeared in her doorway. "Go home, Dior," Lucius said softly, seeing the dark circles under her eyes. "It's late and you've handled everything perfectly. I will call if we need anything." He paused, then added more seriously, "You should also avoid the press. They'll be sniffing around.” Dior hesitated for a moment, her eyes flicking back to Leander's door. She knew Lucius was right, but leaving felt wrong. She stood up, grabbing her bag and slipping on her coat. "I'll go," she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. Lucius watched her leave, his expression thoughtful. He knew Dior was one of the few people who genuinely cared about Leander's well-being, not just his wealth and power. As the door clicked shut behind her, he turned and entered Leander's room, closing the door softly behind him.