Leo's POV
The house is too quiet.
Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Just… empty.
I didn't move for a long time after she left.
The door closed.
And something inside me did too.
Her scent still lingers.
Her cup is still on the table.
Her jacket still hangs by the door.
Everything is the same.
Except her.
I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
She wasn't supposed to leave.
She always stayed.
I walk into the bedroom.
Her side of the bed is untouched.
Cold.
Like it's been empty for days… even though it's only been hours.
I sit down slowly.
Staring at nothing.
Thinking about everything.
"I can't keep loving someone who won't let me in."
Her words echo in my head.
Over and over again.
"I did let you in," I mutter to myself.
But even as I say it…
It doesn't sound convincing anymore.
Maybe I didn't.
Not fully.
Not the way she needed.
My phone buzzes.
I don't check it.
It buzzes again.
And again.
Finally, I grab it.
Chloe.
Of course.
I stare at the name for a second before answering.
"What?" I say flatly.
"You sound terrible," she replies casually.
"Not in the mood."
"Well, you should be," she says. "Because things just got worse."
My jaw tightens.
"I don't care about your games right now."
"This isn't a game, Leo," her tone shifts slightly. "Mick is moving faster than you think."
Silence.
Then—
"What did he do?"
"He visited Lana, didn't he?"
My grip on the phone tightens.
"How do you know that?"
"Because that was the plan."
My chest goes cold.
"Explain."
"Mick wants you distracted," Chloe continues.
"Emotional. Unstable."
"He's doing a great job," I mutter bitterly.
"And now that she's gone…" she adds,
"you're exactly where he wants you."
My heart drops.
"How do you know she left?"
Chloe pauses.
Then softly—
"Because he told someone."
Something dark settles in my chest.
I stand up immediately.
"Where is he?"
"Leo—"
"Where. Is. He."
She sighs.
"I'll send you the location."
The call ends.
And for the first time since she walked out…
I feel something stronger than regret.
Anger.
Not at Lana.
Not at myself.
At Mick.
Because if he thinks he can manipulate my life…
if he thinks he can touch what's mine and walk away—
He's wrong.
Very wrong.