The wind at the rooftop cooled Mira’s skin, but her face still burned. Leo’s words echoed in her ears:
“I want to see if we can cross it.”
She didn’t respond. Couldn’t. Her breath was caught between the past she knew and the future he hinted at.
For a second, Mira wished she were someone else—someone who belonged in this skyline, who didn’t have to second-guess every emotion or motive. But she wasn’t born in Rome. She was a girl from a quiet neighborhood with a hundred reasons to say no and one dangerous reason to say yes.
Leo didn’t push. He stood still beside her, gaze resting on the horizon. And that, more than anything, made her want to lean in.
But she didn’t.
Instead, she whispered, “This sky between us—it’s not just class, Leo. It’s the weight of your world and the fear of mine.”
He looked at her then, carefully.
“Then let’s start with truth,” he said. “And we’ll see where that takes us.”
---
They didn’t speak again of that moment for days.
Work resumed with the same intensity. Mergers. Strategy meetings. A last-minute trip to Chicago where Mira organized three days’ worth of executive sessions on four hours’ notice.
But something had shifted.
Leo looked at her longer. She caught him watching her when she laughed with the marketing team, or when she stood up to a brash consultant who tried to talk over her.
And Mira? She noticed the way his guard softened around her. The subtle changes in his voice when he gave her direct instructions—how they now carried hints of warmth instead of just expectation.
Still, they stayed within the lines.
Until the night in Chicago.
---
It was late—past 11:00. The summit was over. The board dinner, the last wave of photo ops, everything had been wrapped. Mira sat on the floor of her hotel suite, hair out of its bun, shoes discarded, reviewing notes for the next quarter’s report.
A soft knock.
She opened the door slightly, thinking it was room service. Instead, it was Leo, without his usual armor. No blazer. Top button undone. A quiet expression on his face.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said. “But I couldn’t sleep.”
Mira hesitated, then stepped back. “Come in.”
He entered slowly, eyes scanning the suite, landing on her organized chaos of notes, sticky tabs, and open files.
“You don’t stop,” he murmured.
“Neither do you.”
He smiled faintly and sat down across from her on the carpet. They were two people out of their elements—CEO and assistant, billionaire and girl from nowhere—grounded now by shared exhaustion.
“Do you ever wonder,” she asked suddenly, “what your life would’ve looked like if you weren’t born into all of... this?”
Leo didn’t answer immediately. “Sometimes. But then I remind myself—it’s not where you’re born, it’s how you rise.”
She nodded. “Even if some ladders are made of marble and others are made of rope?”
He studied her. “You’ve climbed with your hands. No safety net. That’s why I respect you.”
Silence bloomed between them again. Not awkward—just thick with awareness.
“I meant what I said on the rooftop,” he said softly. “About wanting more.”
Mira swallowed. “And I meant what I didn’t say.”
He tilted his head. “Because you’re afraid?”
“No,” she said. “Because I want to say yes.”
Leo leaned in, just enough that she could feel the warmth of him. Not touching—just there.
“I’m not asking for a fairytale,” he said. “Just... a beginning.”
Her breath hitched. She looked into his eyes, and for the first time, she didn’t see the billionaire. She saw the man who woke early, stayed late, and watched the world like he wanted to change it.
“I don’t know how to be part of your world,” she admitted.
“Then let’s build one that fits us both.”
And then—slowly, deliberately—Leo reached out and touched her hand.
Just her hand.
It was the most honest thing either of them had done.
---
The next morning, they flew back to New York.
Nothing was said aloud, but everything had changed. They moved in sync—her glance anticipating his words, his pauses allowing her thoughts. There were smiles that held secrets and silences that held promises.
But reality was never far.
By Friday, Mira’s inbox was flooded with media alerts.
Page Six: “Who’s the Mystery Woman Seen With Leo Cavendish at Last Week’s Gala?”
NY Society Blog: “From Assistant to Arm Candy? Cavendish’s Companion Raises Eyebrows.”
GossipFuel: “Leo Cavendish’s New Flame? Sources Say She’s a Nobody.”
Mira read the headlines with a clenched jaw.
She knew it was coming. Gina had warned her. “The minute you breathe near a billionaire, the world either wants to crown you or crucify you.”
She tried to brush it off.
But the whispers grew louder.
At lunch, she overheard interns in the breakroom: “Do you think she slept her way up?”
In a strategy meeting, a board member casually asked, “Is she going to be part of the asset review process, or just Leo’s... guest?”
That night, she stayed late to work. The SkySpire was mostly dark, her office lit only by a desk lamp.
Leo found her there.
“They’re talking,” she said without looking up.
“I know.”
She finally looked at him. “Is this what it’s going to be? Every room we walk into, I’m your scandal?”
Leo stepped inside, closing the door behind him.
“You’re no one’s scandal, Mira.”
“Then why do they all think I’m a placeholder for your next socialite girlfriend?”
“Because they don’t know you like I do.”
She stood, furious and aching. “That’s the problem, Leo. They won’t. I could work twice as hard, be ten times smarter—and it still won’t matter. Because I wasn’t born in Rome.”
He walked to her, quiet but firm.
“Then let’s burn Rome down and build something new.”
She stared at him. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“I’m not. But if you’re going to walk beside me, you need to know... I’m all in. Even when it gets messy.”
Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them away.
“I don’t want to be your weakness.”
Leo cupped her face gently. “You’re not. You’re the only thing that makes me stronger.”
And when he kissed her, it wasn’t reckless.
It was deliberate.
A line crossed—not in haste, but in faith.
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