He hadn't seen her in five days.
Five days too long.
But Leon watched.
Through reports. Through cameras. Through eyes paid to observe and never interfere.
Ayla moved through her days with stubborn grace—pretending nothing had changed, even though everything had.
She smiled less.
Checked her phone more.
Looked over her shoulder just enough for him to know she felt him.
⸻
Nico tossed a file on his desk. "She's asking questions."
Leon didn't look up. "Has she talked to Kian again?"
"No. He hasn't been able to talk since you broke his jaw."
Leon's fingers twitched.
Good.
⸻
"You want me to pull back the guards?" Nico asked.
Leon finally looked up, eyes cold. "No."
"She's going to figure it out eventually."
"She already has."
Leon leaned back in his chair, jaw tight.
"She just doesn't want to believe it."
⸻
He told himself this distance was for her.
That he was doing her a favor by not dragging her deeper.
But then he remembered the way she'd looked at him the night he drove her home.
Not afraid.
Not desperate.
Just curious.
She didn't know how dangerous that was.
Curiosity got people killed.
⸻
Still, he watched the screen again.
Ayla laughing at something Maya said.
That laugh—bright and careless—had no business in his world.
Which was exactly why he couldn't stay away forever.