Chapter 7
Hannah
Leonardo’s eyes never left mine. “I prefer potential benefactor, but yes. I believe we had an appointment to discuss mutually beneficial arrangements
I couldn’t form words. This gorgeous man, who had defended me, was now offering to be my sugar daddy? The
humor.
e universe had a sick sense of
“This is… quite a coincidence,” I finally managed.
“Is it?” His smile deepened, revealing perfect white teeth. I own this pub, Hannah. And several others, including The Velvet Room.”
m
Emma’s elbow jabbed into my ribs. “Told you he was loaded,” she whispered, not quietly enough.
Leonardo’s gaze shifted briefly to Emma. “Would your friend like to join us for a drink?”
“No!” Emma answered quickl
“I mean, I was just leaving. Got a… thing. Very important thing.” She backed away, giving me a thumbs–up behind Leonardo’s back. “Text me later, Han!”
And just like that, I was alone with him. Leonardo gestured toward his table. “Shall we?”
I followed him to the corner table, acutely aware of the eyes following us. He pulled out my chair, waiting until I was seated before taking his
“So,” I said, trying to sound casual despite my racing heart, “you own this place?”
“Among others.” He signaled to a server, who appeared instantly. “What would you like to drink?”
“Um, whatever you recommend.”
He ordered something I didn’t catch, and the server disappeared as quickly as he’d arrived.
“I must admit,” Leonardo said, leaning slightly forward, “I was intrigued when I saw your profile. Even more so when I realized you were the same woman from that night.”
“You recognized me from my profile pictures?” I asked, surprised.
“I never forget a face.” His eyes held mine. “Especially not one like yours.”
The server returned with two glasses of amber liquid. I took a sip to hide my nervousness and nearly gasped at the smoothness of what had to be extremely expensive whiskey. The liquid warmed my throat and settled into a pleasant heat in my stomach
“You like it?” Leonardo asked, watching my reaction with those intense eyes.
“It’s incredible,” I admitted. “I usually stick to whatever’s on happy hour.”
He smiled, a small quirk of his lips that transformed his face from merely handsome to devastating. “Macallan 25. Life’s too short for mediocre whiskey.”
“At my budget, life’s too short for any whiskey,” I joked, taking another small sip.
Leonardo leaned back in his chair, studying me. “So, Hannah. Tell me about yourself. What keeps you busy when you’re not creating profiles on sugar dating sites?”
I felt my cheeks flush. “I’m finishing my post–grad in marketing. I work part–time at a Café to make ends meet, which isn’t going great.” I gestured vaguely at the situation between us.
“And when w
you’re not working or studying?”
“I read a lot. Mostly romance novels.” I took another sip of liquid courage. “The steamier, the better, if I’m being honest. I’m also into art and fashion design. I sketch clothing sometimes, just for fun.”
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Leonardo nodded, veening genuinely interested. “Creative pursuits. I admire that.”
What about you?” I asked, emboldened by the whiskey. Besides owning pubs and rescuing women from drunk assholes, what does Leonardo
A shadow of amusement crossed his face. “I maintain various business interests. Import export, real estate, hospitality.” He waved his hand dacvely. Boring corporate stuff, mostly.”
The cascal way be brushed off what was clearly an empire made my head spin. This
man didn’t just own a pub; he owned a corporation. A big.
“So you own The Velvet Room too?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Among other properties. His eyes never left mine, watching my reactions with unsettling intensity. “I find the hospitality industry…
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