Page 68 of The Mogul: Leonard

“Good, I trust your judgment,” he replies firmly, not leaving any trace of doubt about his opinion on the matter.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I don’t want to jeopardize my relationship with him because of my personal life. I glance over at Trish and find her smiling.

“I just wanted confirmation about it. I would never question your decisions. I know the integrity you bring to everything you do, so I have no doubt that you’re not messing around this time, either. To be honest, I’m relieved you found someone. I was growing increasingly concerned about your lack of a personal life. It’s not healthy to live and breathe work.”

“Is there anyone who isn’t concerned about my personal life—or lack of it?” I ask in disbelief. I never imagined my relationship status would matter to anyone, but it turns out it’s a big deal for them.

“Leonard, you’re a good guy,” she says, fixing me with a steady gaze. “But you have zero self-control when it comes to this job. We’re all worried you’ll work yourself into an early grave before you even hit forty-five.”

I scoff, a half-smile tugging at my lips as I shake my head in disbelief. “Are you already planning my funeral?”

She smiles back, softly but firmly. “We care about you, Leonard. We’re just worried.”

For a second, I’m at a loss. No words seem big enough to hold the gratitude I feel. All I can do is smile back, letting the warmth of her concern sink in.

I meet Raphael at the Hunting Club. We are sipping whiskey in one of the private rooms where members can converse without being overheard. It feels strange to see him again, especially after he showed up at my door a couple of weeks ago and found out about Roxanne and me. Honestly, he took the news better than I expected, and I’m grateful for that.

“Do you still have contact with the FBI?” I ask him right off the bat. I’m not in the mood for lengthy discussions.

He frowns and studies me for a moment. I begin to worry that I made a mistake coming to him for this, but finally, he responds, “Yes, I still have my contacts. Is something wrong?” His tone is concerned.

I shake my head. “Yes and no. You remember the issue I’m dealing with regarding Roxanne, right? We’ve discovered that someone is not stealing money but pieces of information.” I get straight to the point.

“Shit,” he murmurs, baffled.

“Yeah, we still need to determine exactly what happened and who was involved. Once we have that information, we have to take legal action. There’s a chance this situation is so big the FBI could get involved. You know we work with government agencies too, so I can’t just pretend nothing happened.”

He nods gravely. “I know it’s the right thing to do, but I’m worried about Roxanne. I don’t want the FBI interfering in her life. How did it all escalate?”

This is the same concern I have. She has done things in the past that were borderline legal, as well as some that were outright illegal. I don’t want to put her in a difficult position.

“I haven’t told her yet; I wanted to discuss it with you first. That’s why I came to you. I want to keep things quiet and controlled for her sake. I wouldn’t want the wrong person asking the wrong questions and drawing attention to her instead of the actual problem. That’s a risk I don’t want to take,” I admit.

A small smile appears on his face. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

I shrug. I’ve asked myself the same question a million times. As much as we’re keeping things casual, I feel like I’m fully invested in her. I hope we’re on the same page about that. Maybe this is a conversation we need to have sooner rather than later.

“I don’t know if I’m in love, but I care about her, and I don’t want to hurt her in any way.”

He nods, and his expression turns serious again. “I’ll start asking the people I trust to help us, but you need to find that evidence quickly. It better be rock-solid because once they start digging, they won’t stop,” he warns.

I nod, feeling a weight settle heavily on my chest. This is it. This is the moment when my entire life—everything I’ve worked for—could crumble into a million pieces, and I’m not sure I can handle that.

24

Roxanne

“Wow. Did you even sleep last night?” Leonard asks, standing up from behind his desk. He walks over, taking the cups of coffee from my hands and setting them down, his gaze narrowing as he studies me.

I must look terrible, because his usual professional boundaries in the office seem to vanish when he reaches out, pulling me into a quick hug. It’s uncharacteristic, and it surprises me enough to make me pause mid-yawn.

“Not exactly,” I admit, yawning again.

He places his hands on my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length with a mock stern expression that almost makes me feel like a kid caught sneaking out. “When we ended the call at midnight, you promised you were going to bed,” he says, a touch of exasperation in his voice.

A guilty pang tugs at my chest. “I know, but…while I was getting ready, I had this idea pop into my head. A solution. You know I couldn’t just let it go.”

His skeptical eyebrow lifts. “And did you figure it out?”

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