(Ella's POV)
The drive back from the Sterling Resort construction site was long, but I welcomed the silence. The private jet had been waiting for us at a nearby airstrip, and now we were cruising at 40,000 feet above the city.
I kept my gaze locked on the night skyline below, watching as the city lights flickered like dying stars. The jet's cabin was modern and sleek, with plush white leather seats, polished wood paneling, and soft ambient lighting. A space built for comfort—yet suffocating with tension.
Leo sat across from me, his dark green eyes never leaving me.
I could feel him watching. Studying. Trying to figure me out.
He hadn't said much since dinner, but something about the way he sat—elbow resting on the armrest, fingers tapping against his glass of whiskey—told me he was waiting for the right moment to strike.
I exhaled slowly, forcing myself to focus on my phone. Ignoring him.
That was until it buzzed.
Zack.
Again.
I clenched my jaw, my thumb hovering over the screen. His name had appeared more times than I cared to count in the last 24 hours.
Zack: Ella, call me.
Zack: I just want to talk.
Zack: Don't ignore me.
A lump formed in my throat. I had always answered Zack's calls before. Always.
But not now.
Not when being near Leo had shifted something in me.
Not when I didn't want to hear whatever the hell Zack had to say.
I locked my phone and tossed it onto the seat beside me.
"You're ignoring him."
Leo's voice was smooth, deep, cutting through the quiet like a blade.
I didn't flinch. Didn't look up. "That's none of your business."
Leo hummed, taking a slow sip of his whiskey. "That's the second time his name has popped up tonight."
I finally turned to face him, arching a brow. "Are you keeping track?"
A smirk tugged at his lips. "I notice things, Sinclair."
I scoffed. "Well, stop noticing."
Leo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, gaze dark and sharp. "Who is he to you?"
I tilted my head. "Jealous?"
His smirk deepened. "I don't get jealous. I just don't like distractions."
I let out a humorless laugh. "You're my distraction, Sterling. Not the other way around."
His eyes flickered with something unreadable, but I didn't give him a chance to respond. I unbuckled my seatbelt and stood, needing distance.
Leo, of course, wasn't having it.
He was up in seconds, stepping into my space, the scent of his woody cologne and whiskey filling my senses.
"You run every time I ask you a question," he mused, his voice softer now, taunting yet intrigued.
I lifted my chin. "Maybe you should stop asking questions."
His gaze dropped to my lips before snapping back to my eyes. "Maybe I like pissing you off."
I exhaled sharply, stepping around him and walking toward the small bar area at the back of the jet.
A row of crystal glasses lined the counter, next to an array of expensive liquors. I poured myself a drink, the rich amber liquid swirling in the glass as I lifted it to my lips.
Leo followed, stopping just behind me. Close. Too close.
"Why won't you answer him?" His voice was quieter now, more serious.
I took a slow sip before replying, "I don't owe Zack anything."
Leo studied me for a long beat. "He thinks you do."
I turned to face him fully, meeting his piercing gaze. "And how would you know that?"
Leo shrugged, tilting his head slightly. "Men don't call like that unless they feel entitled to a response."
His words hit something in me. A truth I didn't want to acknowledge.
Zack did feel entitled. Like I owed him my time. My attention. My love.
And for years, I had given him everything without him ever asking.
Without him ever choosing me.
But Leo wasn't Zack.
He wasn't pretending not to care. He wasn't ignoring what was right in front of him.
I swallowed hard, gripping my glass tighter. "You don't know a damn thing about me, Sterling."
His smirk returned, but this time, it was softer. More knowing. "Not yet."
Back in the City – Unfinished Business
The jet touched down in New York City, the flashing runway lights illuminating the dark tarmac. A black Rolls-Royce was already waiting for Leo outside the private terminal, while my own driver stood a few feet away.
As I grabbed my bag, Leo spoke again.
"Tomorrow," he said. "I'll have my team send over the final documents for the resort partnership."
I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "Fine."
He stepped closer, eyes scanning my face. "And, Sinclair?"
I inhaled, hating the way my stomach tightened when he looked at me like that. "What?"
His smirk was lazy, effortless. "Next time Zack calls, pick up."
I scoffed. "And why would I do that?"
Leo's green eyes darkened. "Because I need to know what I'm up against."
My breath hitched. Not because of his words—but because of the way he said them.
Like he already knew I was his.
Like he wasn't asking.
Like he was staking a claim.
Who does he think he is?
I turned without another word, sliding into my car as my driver shut the door behind me.
Shutting everyone out.
As the city blurred past the tinted windows, I finally pulled out my phone.
Zack: Ella, please.
My fingers hovered over the screen. One tap. That's all it would take.
But instead, I locked the phone and set it down.
I didn't owe Zack anything.
And for the first time in years, I finally believed it.