Chapter 3 Touch Her and Die

Location: The Roth–Vance Penthouse | Next Morning.

"You're not going to the gala tonight."

Leo's voice was low, final, and firm. It echoed through the penthouse kitchen like a loaded gun, quiet but lethal.

Amelia didn't even look up from her espresso.

> "Excuse me?"

> "I said you're not going. Cancel the appearance."

> "Did I miss the part where you became my keeper?" She lifted her eyes. Ice. Challenge. "Or are you just trying out your caveman era?"

He tossed the morning's security report onto the counter.

> "Because whoever's stalking you didn't just leave a picture this time." He pointed. "They disabled the hallway camera and piggybacked the hotel's network. That takes planning."

> "So what?" she asked, taking a sip. "I let fear dictate my life?"

> "No." He stepped closer. "You let me."

Her laugh was sharp. Sexy. Dangerous.

> "You don't get to tell me what to do."

> "I do when someone's aiming lasers at your back."

The moment hung heavy.

She hated how much she liked his fury. The way he went feral. Like she was his to protect.

Like she was his at all.

> "So what's your plan?" she asked, finishing her drink. "Keep me locked up until this shadow threat gets bored?"

> "You think this is a joke?"

> "I think if you touch me like you did last night, you'll forget how to talk."

His jaw flexed.

And then he was across the space in a heartbeat, pinning her body against the cold marble counter.

> "Say that again," he growled.

> "Touch me," she whispered.

His hand slid into her hair. She gasped as he angled her head back. His mouth hovered above hers.

> "I want to protect you," he said. "I want to bury you in silk and bullets and make the world too scared to breathe near you."

> "Then do it," she said. "But don't ask me to stay small."

Later that night, they arrived at the gala together anyway. Cameras flashed. The room sparkled with wealth and venom.

Amelia wore black velvet, her back exposed, every inch of her posture saying: I'm still here. Try me.

Leo stayed inches from her all night, scanning the exits, watching the crowd like a soldier not a CEO.

> "Do you see him?" she asked under her breath.

> "Not yet."

> "You're paranoid."

> "I'm not paranoid," he said. "I'm angry."

> "Why?"

> "Because someone thinks they can touch what's mine."

She turned to him, startled by the fire in his voice.

> "Yours?" she echoed.

> "Until this is over, yes. Mine."

Before she could snap back, a waiter brushed too close. Champagne tipped.

Right onto her bare shoulder.

Leo was on him in a blink grabbing the man by the collar, slamming him back against the service wall behind the curtain.

> "You think this is cute?" Leo hissed. "Accidentally bumping her?"

> "I-I sir, I didn't "

Leo's fist curled.

Amelia appeared beside him and grabbed his arm.

> "Enough."

> "He had a wire," Leo growled.

The man's tray hit the floor. A small black device clattered out.

Microphone. Hidden.

Amelia's blood ran cold.

Back in the car, Leo didn't speak.

His hand was clenched around hers. Protective. Desperate. She didn't pull away.

> "You'd kill for me," she said.

> "Without hesitation."

> "Why?"

He looked at her. Raw. Vulnerable in a way she'd never seen.

> "Because no one's ever protected me either."

The silence between them crackled.

> "I'm not used to feeling wanted," she said, voice soft.

> "I don't want you," he said.

She looked at him.

> "I need you."

She kissed him first.

This time it wasn't brutal.

It was slow. Searing. Like peeling back skin.

He kissed her like he'd drown if he stopped.

Back in the suite, Amelia poured wine while Leo showered. Her phone buzzed.

Blocked number.

One message.

> You're looking in the wrong direction.

A second one followed. A file attached.

Amelia clicked it.

The screen flickered. Footage played.

Chloe.

Her best friend.

Sneaking out of Amelia's private office.

Taking a folder labeled "Merger B: Private Terms – Legal Only."

> "No," Amelia whispered. "No, that's not "

Leo walked out, towel around his waist.

He froze when he saw her face.

> "What happened?"

She turned the screen toward him.

> "We've been looking outside," she whispered. "But it's coming from the inside."

> "Who is it?"

Her voice broke for the first time.

> "Chloe."

"Chloe wouldn't betray me."

Amelia's voice was flat but her body told another story. She stood frozen in the center of the penthouse, silk robe half tied, a wine glass untouched in her hand.

The screen still glowed.

Leo crossed the room slowly, still towel-clad, water dripping from his hair, his gaze locked on hers.

> "I know what I saw."

> "It doesn't make sense."

> "She was holding confidential merger terms, Amelia. That file never left your private archive. How did she even get in?"

> "She's had my passcode for years. Before all this started." Her lips pressed together. "Before you."

Leo took the glass from her fingers and set it down.

> "We don't know why she took it."

> "No," Amelia said. "But I know how this game works. You don't take leverage unless you're planning to use it."

Her voice cracked on the last word.

Leo moved closer.

> "Say the word and I'll handle it."

> "No," she said quickly. "If this leaks, it'll kill what's left of the deal and the press will eat it alive. Chloe was seen with me last week at the Vance negotiation brunch."

Leo ran a hand through his damp hair, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

> "Then we play it quietly."

> "She's like a sister to me, Leo."

> "Then we find out what she's playing at before she turns the knife."

She sank into the corner of the velvet couch, burying her face in her hands. For the first time since this game started, Amelia Roth looked breakable.

Leo didn't speak.

He sat beside her, said nothing, just placed a steady hand on her knee.

After a long minute, she whispered

> "This is what I was raised to expect. Loyalty doesn't exist. Love isn't real. Everyone trades something."

> "Not everyone."

> "You would trade me," she said bitterly.

> "I already did once," he said, voice rough. "I won't do it again."

That silence hit harder than anything else. Truth without apology.

> "I don't want to trust you," she whispered.

> "Too late."

She looked up.

And that was when the knock came.

Three short raps.

They both froze.

Leo stood, tension coiled like wire.

> "Did you order anything?"

> "No."

> "Expect anyone?"

> "Just " Amelia swallowed. "Chloe."

Leo's hand slid into the drawer beneath the kitchen island. He pulled out the security pistol.

Loaded it without blinking.

> "Let me answer the door."

Leo cracked the door open just enough to see.

It was Chloe.

Her eyes were red. Mascara smudged. She looked exhausted.

> "Is Amelia here?" Her voice was small.

> "What do you want?"

> "I need to talk to her. Please."

> "About what?"

> "About something I did." Her voice broke. "Something I shouldn't have done."

Leo studied her for a long beat, then turned to Amelia.

> "Your call."

Amelia hesitated. Her fingers clenched the edge of the couch.

Then

> "Let her in."

Chloe stepped in slowly. She looked around like she expected to be hit with a lawsuit.

> "I wasn't going to sell it," she said immediately. "The file. I just I panicked."

> "You stole my private merger terms," Amelia said. "From my locked archive. For what, Chloe? Leverage? Revenge?"

> "No," Chloe said, shaking her head. "It wasn't for me."

> "Then who?" Leo asked, arms folded.

> "He said it was to protect you."

> "He who?"

Chloe's face twisted.

> "He said if I didn't give him the file, he'd leak what he had on Amelia."

> "Who. Chloe."

Her voice dropped.

> "Olivia Kane's backer."

Silence.

Then Chloe met Amelia's gaze.

> "It's your father."

> "No," Amelia said, voice sharp. "That's impossible."

> "He doesn't want Olivia to win," Chloe whispered. "He just doesn't want you to win either."

Amelia didn't say anything for a long time.

She just stared at Chloe, the words It's your father echoing in her skull like a gunshot fired in velvet.

Her spine remained straight. Her jaw locked in place. But her eyes those sharp, steel eyes had gone hollow.

> "You're sure?" she asked finally. Her voice was calm. Too calm.

Chloe nodded, wringing her hands.

> "He reached out through Olivia's handler, an intermediary. I didn't know it was him at first. But the voice. The phrasing. I've worked in your house too long not to recognize the man behind the curtain."

Amelia turned to Leo.

He was already watching her. Already bracing for the collapse.

> "Out," she said softly, to Chloe. "Now."

> "Amelia, I "

> "I said out."

Chloe opened her mouth, then closed it. She nodded, slowly, eyes rimmed with guilt, and left.

The door clicked shut.

Silence. Thick and suffocating.

Amelia didn't move. Didn't breathe.

Then, with clinical precision, she walked over to the bar cart, poured herself a glass of Macallan, and downed it in one go.

Leo stepped closer.

> "You don't have to hold it together."

> "Yes, I do."

> "Not with me."

That broke something.

Her shoulders trembled. Her grip faltered.

> "He taught me everything," she whispered. "How to win. How to lead. How to kill a deal with a smile."

She looked at Leo then, eyes glassy with something she hated admitting.

> "He never taught me how to survive being disposable."

Leo moved fast.

No words.

He wrapped her in his arms, and for the first time since she was a child, Amelia Roth let herself fall into someone else.

Not because she was weak.

Because she was tired of being unbreakable.

His hands slid up her back.

Her head pressed against his chest.

He didn't try to fix it.

He just held her.

> "I've got you," he said. "Even if he never did."

A beat passed.

Then her voice came, small, tight, wrapped in everything she never let anyone see:

> "I think I hate him."

> "You don't," Leo said gently. "But you will."