It was never about the girl.
That's what Leon kept telling himself.
She was a new waitress in a place he owned. A face that didn't match the others. A name that sounded too soft for his world.
But every night, without meaning to, he found himself watching her.
Tonight would be different.
Tonight, he'd test her.
⸻
"She works bar section C," Nico reported. "Want me to move her?"
Leon shook his head.
"No. I'll move."
The idea stunned Nico into silence—but he didn't argue.
Leon never entered the floor during business hours. He didn't mingle. He didn't appear. But tonight, he stepped out of the shadows and into her world.
And like a match to dry leaves—everything shifted.
⸻
Ayla didn't see him at first.
She was at the far end of the floor, carrying a tray of drinks to a group of men too loud and too handsy. Leon watched from across the room. The second her hand trembled under pressure, he knew.
She wasn't just naive.
She was honest.
And honesty had no place in this city.
⸻
He moved closer, just a few feet away—close enough to see the worry in her eyes, the way she swallowed words instead of speaking them.
And then she looked up.
Right at him.
Their eyes met.
For one second—no more, no less.
She blinked first.
But she didn't look away.
⸻
Leon turned and left after that. No words exchanged. No names spoken.
But something had passed between them.
He had tested her.
And she hadn't run.