Chapter 6 - The Private Sanctuary
Clare walked out of Harkort Industries on Leandro’s arm, stepping into the bright afternoon sunlight while behind them, security guards were already escorting a frantic Wesley Harkort out of the building.
The Maybach was waiting at the curb. Once inside, Clare sank back into the leather seats, her mind still spinning.
"You bought his company just to fire him?" she asked, looking at Leandro in awe.
"I bought his company because it was poorly managed and undervalued," Leandro corrected her smoothly, though a faint smirk played at his lips. "Firing him was simply a personal perk."
He looked at her seriously. "I need a head of global logistics for Vitali Enterprises, Clare. Someone who knows the local supply chains, someone honest, and someone who isn't afraid to speak her mind to powerful men. The salary is triple what Harkort was paying you."
Clare stared at him. "Triple?"
"And an executive office on the top floor of my building," he added. "Do you accept?"
Tears of relief filled Clare’s eyes. "Yes... god, yes! Thank you, Leandro."
"Don't thank me yet," he murmured, his eye softening. "First, I want to take you somewhere special."
Instead of going to a restaurant, the car drove out of the city center, heading toward Lake Minnetonka. They pulled through a massive iron gate into a private, heavily guarded estate surrounded by dense pine trees. In the center stood a breathtaking modern fortress of dark stone, glass, and timber.
"Welcome to my home," Leandro said quietly as he opened her car door.
As they walked inside, Clare was stunned. Expecting a dark, cold mafia lair, she found a warm, light-filled mansion with floor-to-ceiling glass windows overlooking the frozen lake, burning fireplaces, and soft leather furniture.
"It's beautiful," she breathed, walking up to the grand fireplace.
Leandro stepped up behind her, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto a chair. He stood close enough that she could feel his breath warm against the shell of her ear.
"It was very lonely," Leandro confessed softly. "Until today."
Clare turned around to face him. Being alone with him in this vast, quiet sanctuary sent a thrilling tremor through her chest. Without the pressure of the gala or the drama of the office, she could see the raw humanity in him—the weight of leadership he carried, the pain of his past injuries, and the fierce, protective passion burning in his eyes.
"Why me, Leandro?" she asked softly, reaching up to gently touch the dark fabric of his vest. "You could have any woman in the city. Wealthy heiresses, models, socialites..."
Leandro wrapped his massive arms around her waist, pulling her flush against his chest.
May you like
"Those women look at me and see a scarred monster or a bank account," he whispered, his voice dark and raspy. "You looked at me and saw a man. You made me laugh when I hadn't laughed in four years. You are gorgeous, brilliant, and entirely real, Clare. I don't want an heiress. I want you."
Before she could answer, his lips descended on hers.
