Leo’s Perspective

  April 26, 2025

  Leo hadn’t planned on sleeping.

  Not on this flight. Not when Ethan was sitting right there.

  But sometime around hour three, exhaustion crept in.

  And Ada had started to doze.

  He noticed before she did. The slow blink, the way her head dipped slightly before she caught herself. The way her breathing evened out, her body shifting just enough to brush against his arm before she pulled away.

  She always looked a little too serious when she worked, too focused, too aware of herself around him. But now, she wasn’t trying to guard her expressions, wasn’t overthinking what she was giving away.

  She was just… Ada.

  Leo let his gaze drift, watching the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose, the way they curled near her jaw, catching just enough of the cabin light to make him wonder if they’d be as soft as they looked.

  It wasn’t like he hadn’t noticed before.

  Of course he had.

  He just hadn’t let himself think about it.

  But now?

  Now he was watching her sleep, and for the first time, he let himself.

  She smelled faintly like something light, maybe something floral, something warm and familiar. He wanted to lean in just enough to figure it out.

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  And for the first time in a long time, he wanted to do something he wouldn’t normally do.

  He wanted to tuck that loose strand behind her ear. He wanted to brush the back of his fingers against her jaw, just to see if she’d stir, just to see if she’d shift closer instead of away.

  He wanted to see what she’d do if he let himself go just a little.

  She exhaled softly, her head shifting just slightly against his shoulder.

  Leo stayed still.

  Because for some reason, he didn’t want to wake her up. Not yet.

  Not when she was here. Not when, for the first time, he didn’t feel like he had to keep moving.

  That should have bothered him.

  It didn’t.

  His gaze drifted lower, catching the slow rise and fall of her breathing. He had spent his life moving first. Leaving before he could be left. Keeping things easy.

  But now, sitting next to her, feeling the quiet weight of her presence, he wasn’t thinking about leaving at all.

  That was dangerous.

  Leo exhaled, shutting his eyes for a second, willing the thoughts away.

  Then, deliberately, he let his head rest against her shoulder.

  He never did this.

  Not with anyone.

  But right now?

  Right now, with the hum of the plane and the warmth of her shoulder beneath his…

  Leo let himself take the risk.

  She didn’t pull away.

  Didn’t even stir.

  And for the first time in hours, his pulse settled.

  The world had never been particularly steady for him.

  Not when he was a kid, shuffled between homes and boarding schools, raised more by employees than by family. Not when he learned that people only stayed when they had something to gain, that if he wanted them to care, he had to be charming, had to be memorable, had to make himself someone they didn’t want to leave.

  That was how life worked.

  People left.

  So before they could, he left first.

  But right now, with the quiet hum of the plane, the warmth of Ada’s shoulder beneath his, he didn’t want to leave first.

  And that?

  That was a problem.

  Because Ethan was moving.

  He had noticed the shift immediately—the way Ethan wasn’t just watching anymore, wasn’t just waiting. The way he had started pushing back, started playing.

  Started making moves.

  Leo had played this game his entire life. He knew how to keep people on their toes, how to make them chase, how to make sure they were always reaching for him and not the other way around.

  But Ethan wasn’t playing to chase. He was playing to win.

  And Leo hadn’t expected that.

  Now, he had to make sure Ada was playing, too.

  Tokyo was going to matter.

  She was competitive. She was stubborn. If she wanted something, she fought for it.

  So if she fought for him, he’d know.

  Which meant he had to give her something to fight for.

  He had options—Misako, for starters.

  She had been a little too interested on their client calls, her messages just a little too friendly, her invitations for drinks always just casual enough to be deniable.

  There were others, too. Women who never needed much from him, who weren’t complicated, who knew what this was.

  He’d never had to think about it before. But now?

  Now he wanted Ada to see.

  Not because he wanted to make her jealous. Not exactly.

  But because he needed to know.

  If she wanted him, she needed to prove it.

  Because if she didn’t, then he’d have no reason to hold back.

  And if she did?

  Then maybe he’d finally know for sure that he had something real.

  Leo exhaled slowly, his head still resting against her shoulder.

  Then he’d have no reason to hold back.