At the most expensive charity gala in Minneapolis, Clare Donnelly realized someone had moved her place card on purpose.

Leandro walked through the office cubicles with absolute purpose, his dark eye sweeping the floor until it landed on Clare holding her cardboard box.

His gaze softened for a fraction of a second when he saw her, before shifting back into pure steel as Wesley came rushing out of his corner office.

"Vitali?" Wesley stammered, looking alarmed. "What... what are you doing here? This is private corporate property!"

Leandro ignored him, stepping up to Clare’s desk. He gently took the heavy cardboard box from her hands and passed it to Marko.

"Are you finished packing?" Leandro asked her softly.

"I... yes," Clare whispered, confused. "Leandro, how did you know?"

"I make it my business to know everything that happens in this city," he replied smoothly.

Wesley tried to push his way between them. "Look, Vitali, I don't know what kind of game you're playing, but Clare Donnelly doesn't work here anymore. I just terminated her employment. So if you'd kindly take your thugs and leave—"

Leandro slowly turned his head to stare down at Wesley. The sharp, jagged scar along his left eye seemed to glow in the fluorescent office lighting. The sheer aura of danger radiating from him made Wesley take a involuntary step backward.

"You didn't terminate her, Mr. Harkort," Leandro said quietly, his voice like grinding stones. "You liberated her."

Leandro pulled a leather document holder from his inner jacket pocket and threw it onto Clare’s old desk.

"What is this?" Wesley asked nervously.

"That is the official notice of foreclosure and stock buyout," Leandro announced loudly, his voice echoing across the silent office floor. "As of eight o'clock this morning, Vitali Holdings bought sixty percent of Harkort Industries' outstanding debt from First Minnesota Bank. I am now your majority shareholder, your primary creditor, and your landlord."

Wesley’s mouth fell open. "You... you bought my company?"

"I bought your company," Leandro confirmed coldly. "And my first executive decree as owner is to fire you, Mr. Harkort. Effective immediately."

Blair let out a high-pitched gasp. Wesley looked like he was about to faint, his hands trembling violently.

Leandro stepped closer to Wesley, leaning down so only he, Blair, and Clare could hear his next words.

"You mocked a woman who has more dignity in her pinky finger than you have in your entire bloodline," Leandro whispered softly. "Now, pack your desk. You have ten minutes before security throws you onto the street."