Everyone was scared of Leonard wherever his name was mentioned. In the world of business, he wasn't just respected but also avoided. People secretly called him names like the devil, the shark, and the man who always wins. And all those names were true.
He was the kind of guy who could walk into a room and instantly figure things out way ahead of everyone else. People said his instincts were so good that he could read minds. He always won in deals, and his partners were either happy or scared, depending on how the talks went. Leonard was rich, smart, influential, and totally dangerous, all wrapped up in one calm man.
But today, of all days, he couldn't focus.
Because of a girl. Because if the girl he had met while on his way to work.
She had almost died after getting hit by his car just an hour ago.
Her name was Guinevere.
He quietly said her name again, his jaw getting tight.
It was silly.
He had seen so many beautiful, smart, and tricky women women who wanted him for his money or power. None of them had ever caught his attention. But that girl on the road, the one who looked scared and desperate she had made him stop and think.
That bothered him.
Ever since the encounter he had with her through his window, the one where she couldn't see him or even have an idea he was sitting inside the black SUV.
She had not left his mind. Staying rent free, like he had just invited her in without any passkey
Leonard got out of his private elevator and went into the top floor of Hartman Industries, trying to forget about her. Any interest he had was just a short distraction. He had more important things to deal with, like the meeting waiting for him.
His shoes clicked loudly on the marble floor. Workers lowered their heads as he walked by no one dared to look at him for too long. He seemed cold, dark, and dangerous.
Clinton walked quietly behind him, watching carefully.
Leonard opened the meeting room door without slowing down.
"Gentlemen," he said casually, acting like he hadn't made them wait twenty minutes. "Let's get started."
The clients stood up and shook his hand awkwardly, trying to impress someone they feared. Leonard sat down at the head of the table, leaning back like a hunter who knew the prey couldn't escape.
Papers were spread out. Numbers were shown. Plans were suggested.
Leonard listened, but he wasn't really paying attention.
He kept thinking about the girl who had bowed and apologized on the road, her voice shaking. Her face popped into his head again, her weakness and worry almost made him miss a detail in the contract the client was showing.
Almost.
Leonard looked through the paper. "Your numbers don't back up that percentage."
The client got tense. "Mr. Hartman, our estimate is fair "
"It's too high," Leonard interrupted smoothly, pointing to a line. "By fifteen percent."
The client turned pale.
Clinton looked sadly at the poor man.
Leonard went on, his voice smooth but strong, "If you desire to work with Hartman Industries, you must use actual numbers. Not made-up ones."
The client took a breath, trying to get some courage. "If we go lower than that, we will lose too much of what we should get. Mr. Hartman, we cannot agree to terms that leave us with nothing."
Leonard raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Nothing? You will leave with a huge deal worth millions that you could not get yourself. I will leave knowing that you won't bring my company down with your lack of skill. That seems fair to me."
Some of the board members moved in their seats, feeling uneasy.
The client held onto the table tightly. "If this keeps going, we will back out of the deal."
Leonard smiled in an unkind way. "You will not."
The man blinked his eyes.
"You need me more than I need you," Leonard stated plainly, touching the contract. "And we both understand that."
The room became silent. Very silent. The client started to look defeated.
Leonard did not brag about it. He didn't have to. He just waited, his fingers together, his eyes calm and sharp.
Finally, the client breathed out, sounding unsure.
"…Okay."
Leonard nodded once. "Great. Clinton will send you the updated terms soon."
The agreement was finalized. Another win. Another powerful group agreeing to what he wanted.
But still…
As the men walked out, shaking hands stiffly and smiling nervously, Leonard's thoughts went back to something else.
Why am I still thinking about her?
It bothered him. Made him annoyed. It distracted him like nothing had in years.
He felt no emotions for people he didn't know. He didn't think about people he almost hit with his car. But he could still see her shaking eyelashes, her shaky voice, and how she ran like a scared deer.
Leonard loosened his tie a little, leaning back in his chair.
Who was she?
Why did her face feel like a piece of a puzzle that he didn't know was missing?
Why did her desperate eyes stay in his thoughts like a story that wasn't finished?
He tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a second.
He wanted to find out. Not because he was kind. Not because he felt bad for her.
Just curious.
A feeling he couldn't explain.
"Sir?" Clinton asked carefully. "Should I get ready for your next meeting?"
Leonard opened his eyes, the coldness coming back strong, steady, and familiar.
"Yes," he replied. "But first—"
He stopped talking.
Clinton stood up straighter. "Sir?"
Leonard's voice stayed calm, but something strange showed in his eyes.
"Find out everything you can about the girl."
Clinton felt nervous.
He knew this way of speaking.
He knew what it meant.
And it frightened him.
"Yes, sir," he said quietly.
Leonard's eyes moved to the window the city stretching far below like small, unimportant pieces.
Guinevere had no idea that a dangerous man was now interested in her.
And he was not going to let it go.