Page 76 of The Mogul: Leonard

Roxanne just nods, but I can see a spark of pride in her eyes, and it brings a flicker of a smile to my face. Even in the midst of all this, her strength and determination shine through.

“So, once we have a recording,” I say, bringing the conversation back on track. “What then?”

Harris leans forward, his expression serious. “If Oliver implicates himself clearly enough, we move to secure him and gather the rest of the evidence from his devices. That’s when we’ll bring in the bigger fish—the buyers of the information, the people who enabled his actions. The more connections we can trace, the better your position will be.”

Roxanne’s face tightens, but she nods. I know she’s frustrated by the wait, but I can see that she understands the necessity of it. “We already have more than a few names from the files we discovered. I think he’s making sure nobody speaks about it, using proof of their involvement as leverage.”

Harris nods, a small smile appearing on his face, like this news is particularly interesting for him. “Good, knowing who we’re targeting will make our job easier.”

“Leonard,” she says, turning to me, her voice soft but resolute. “We’ll get through this. You built this company, you can save it.”

Her words ground me, and I feel a rush of gratitude mixing with the bitterness. The betrayal of a friend cuts deep, but I have people who believe in me and are willing to stand by my side.

Agent Harris stands, a look of determination on his face. “We’ll need to coordinate this carefully. I’ll make the arrangements to oversee the recording, and we’ll set the meeting as soon as possible.”

I rise, feeling the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders. There’s a long road ahead, but for the first time, I feel like we have a plan and a way forward.

As we leave Raphael’s house, I look at Roxanne, the confidence in her gaze giving me hope and strength. No matter what lies ahead, I know I won’t be facing it alone. And as painful as Oliver’s betrayal is, it’s nothing compared to the loyalty and support of those who’ve stood by my side in this situation. Maybe something good will come from all this chaos in the shape of a blond, stubborn woman.

30

Roxanne

After we leave Raphael’s place, the tension between Leonard and me is so thick and tangible I could reach out and touch it. The silence on the car ride back is heavy and filled with everything unsaid between us. I can feel his presence beside me, a steady warmth that I find strangely comforting, even as the heaviness of what we’ve just discussed weighs on both of us.

By the time we get to my place, it’s late. Leonard parks in front of my building, his hands gripping the wheel with a bit too much force, staring forward as if the house itself might have the answers to all our problems. I reach over, putting my hand gently on his arm. “You don’t have to stay,” I say softly, though part of me hopes he will.

He looks at me; his face is closed off, but his gaze is intense, searching mine. “I don’t know if I could leave right now, even if I wanted to,” he replies, his voice coming out in a low rumble. There’s a vulnerability there, a crack in his armor that reaches something deep inside me.

“Come in,” I say, hearing the hint of longing in my own voice. I slip out of the car and head up to my door, hearing his footsteps close behind me.

Inside, the house is dark, the only light streaming in from outside. It’s quiet, as if the apartment itself is giving us a rest from what we’ve been dealing with. I turn on a lamp, and the soft glow spills across the room, making it feel almost cozy and safe. Leonard stands in the doorway, his eyes sweeping over the room as if he’s committing every detail to memory. I regret not telling him sooner about moving here. Now I realize my mistake. I should have trusted him with this information.

He looks exhausted, but more than that, there’s something else—a deep devastation that’s like a raw wound. His shoulders sag, his usually confident posture crumbling under the weight of betrayal. I feel a wave of sadness for him, for everything he’s going through, for how much he’s been forced to carry on his shoulders. I step closer, letting my hand rest on his chest.

“Leonard…” I don’t know what to say. Finding the right words to offer comfort feels impossible when there’s no easy solution, no quick fix.

He turns to me, and his eyes catch mine. For a moment, it’s as if the walls he keeps so carefully constructed around himself just crumble. He’s not the mogul, the CEO, the one who built an empire. He’s just Leonard, someone hurt and betrayed, someone who’s trying to stay strong even when the world seems determined to pull him down.

“Roxanne…” he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper, as if speaking my name is an effort he can barely pull off. There’s a pause, a beat where everything stills, and then he reaches for me, his hand cupping my cheek with an unexpected gentleness, his thumb brushing against my skin, tracing a line that sends a shiver through me.

I close my eyes, leaning into his touch and savoring the warmth that radiates from him. When I open them again, he looks at me with an intensity that leaves me breathless. It feels as though the distance between us is nothing, as though the weight of everything we’re dealing with falls away, leaving only this fragile, electric connection.

I tilt my head up, closing the remaining space between us, my lips finding his in a tentative, lingering kiss. He hesitates for a moment, his hand still cradling my face as if he’s afraid to let himself feel anything. But then he deepens the kiss, his fingers tangling in my hair, his other hand finding its way to my waist, pulling me closer.

It’s like everything we’ve been holding back, all the tension, all the unspoken words, comes pouring out in that kiss. My hands find their way to his shoulders, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if it were the only thing keeping me grounded. I can feel his heartbeat beneath my fingertips, strong and steady, and it’s that rhythm that I cling to as his lips move against mine, slow and searching like he’s savoring every second.

He breaks away just long enough to rest his forehead against mine, his breathing heavy, his voice barely a murmur. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His confession is raw and exposes all his vulnerability. We’ve had sex many times before tonight, but this feels different and special. Like something shifted between us, something deeper and more grounding than the intimacy between our bodies. This time, our hearts entwine, bridging the space between our souls.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” I whisper back.

“Are you sure?” he asks, as though he’s uncertain that something like this could happen, like he expects some sort of betrayal from me too. My heart breaks for him. He is so wounded by all that’s happening he has to ask the question out loud to ensure he trusts the right person.

I nod, unable to form the words. I’m more sure of this—of him—than I’ve been about anything in a long time.

He lifts me effortlessly, carrying me toward the couch, lowering me onto it with a tenderness that almost undoes me. He hovers above me for a moment, his gaze tracing every inch of my face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. I reach up, my fingers skimming along his jaw, feeling the roughness of his stubble beneath my touch.

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