Chapter 6 - The Choice Leo Couldn’t Make for Her
Three weeks later, the Santoro estate felt empty.
Half the staff had been dismissed pending investigation.
Marco survived and entered federal custody.
Vincent Moretti was arrested at a private airfield carrying a passport under a false name.
The evidence recovered from Antonio’s files triggered investigations across three states.
Judges resigned.
A police captain disappeared before turning himself in.
Two businessmen suddenly discovered a passion for cooperating with prosecutors.
And Leo Santoro did something nobody expected.
He opened the books.
All of them.
Not just Moretti’s.
His own.
Tessa stood inside the library when he signed the first cooperation agreement.
“You realize people are going to call you insane.”
Leo leaned back carefully in his chair.
His shoulder was still healing.
“People have called me worse.”
“You could lose everything.”
“I should lose some of it.”
“That sounds suspiciously mature.”
“I’ve been recovering from a bullet wound. It caused temporary wisdom.”
Tessa smiled.
Their relationship during those three weeks had been strange.
No kiss.
No dramatic confession.
No possessive commands.
Leo gave her space.
Almost too much.
He arranged alternate employment through the agency when Tessa said she did not want to continue as his maid.
He paid exactly what her contract required.
Not more.
Not less.
When she moved into a small apartment near Meadow Haven, he did not send guards.
He asked.
She said one discreet security officer near her father would be acceptable.
Leo agreed.
The change was so complete that sometimes Tessa wondered whether the foyer had happened at all.
Then she would remember the way he had looked at her.
And the heat returned.
“You’re staring.”
Leo’s voice pulled her back.
“So are you.”
“I’m better at it.”
“You’ve had more practice.”
He smiled.
Tessa walked toward the desk.
On it sat Antonio’s letter.
“You keep reading that.”
“Every morning.”
“Does it help?”
“Yes.”
She glanced at the line she now knew by heart.
Real power is giving people the freedom to leave and being someone they choose to return to.
Tessa sat across from him.
“What happens to the estate?”
“I’m selling it.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You hate this house.”
“I never said that.”
“You called it a mausoleum with chandeliers.”
“That was one time.”
“You were accurate.”
“What will you do?”
Leo looked around.
“For the first time in my life, I don’t know.”
That was perhaps the most shocking thing she had ever heard him say.
“What do you want?”
“No one has ever asked me that.”
“I’m asking.”
He thought for a moment.
“A smaller house.”
Tessa smiled.
“How revolutionary.”
“No hidden corridors.”
“Good.”
“No armed guards in the dining room.”
“Better.”
“A kitchen I can actually find things in.”
“You don’t cook.”
“I could learn.”
“You threatened a toaster last month.”
“It burned the bread intentionally.”
She laughed.
Leo watched her.
The smile faded slowly.
“Tessa.”
Her pulse changed.
“Yes?”
“Are you still seeing Greg?”
She stared.
Then laughed harder.
Leo looked offended.
“I’m asking respectfully.”
“Greg is cooperating with federal prosecutors.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
“No.”
He tried to hide the relief.
Failed.
“Why?”
“Because he used me.”
“Yes.”
“And because I have questionable taste in men.”
Leo raised an eyebrow.
“That sounded personal.”
“It was.”
He leaned back.
“Fair.”
Silence settled between them.
Not uncomfortable.
Tessa looked toward the window.
Late-afternoon sunlight crossed the shelves.
Exactly where she had stood cleaning the day everything changed.
“Do you remember telling me I missed a spot?”
Leo groaned.
“I was trying to speak to you.”
“You could have said hello.”
“I panicked.”
“You?”
“Yes.”
“Leo Santoro panicked because a maid stood on a stool?”
“You were stretching.”
Her eyes widened.
He looked briefly guilty.
Tessa laughed.
“So you were staring.”
“Constantly.”
“At least you admit it now.”
“I am working on honesty.”
“Keep working.”
He became serious again.
“I owe you another apology.”
“For what?”
“The dress.”
“We covered that.”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“I apologized for trying to control you. Not for making you feel like the way you looked was something I could police.”
Tessa listened.
“You hid your body because you were trying to feel safe in my home.”
Her smile disappeared.
“I noticed. I understood enough to know why.”
He looked down.
“And then the first night you chose to be seen, I made it about me.”
Tessa felt something inside her soften.
“That’s true.”
“I’m sorry.”
She nodded slowly.
“Thank you.”
Leo looked almost surprised.
“You’re not going to make this difficult?”
“I can if you want.”
“No.”
“Then accept the miracle.”
He smiled.
Tessa stood.
“I should go.”
Immediately, she saw the old instinct in him.
That flash of disappointment.
The desire to ask where.
With whom.
When she would return.
He said nothing.
Instead:
“Good night, Tessa.”
She reached the library door.
Stopped.
Looked back.
Leo had already returned to his paperwork.
She suddenly understood Antonio’s letter differently.
Freedom was not only about leaving.
It was about what happened when nobody stopped you.
Tessa leaned against the doorframe.
“Leo.”
He looked up.
“Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“I haven’t either.”
He became very still.
“Are you asking me to dinner?”
“Maybe.”
“At a restaurant?”
“Yes.”
“With normal people?”
“That’s generally where restaurants are located.”
His smile grew.
“What should I wear?”
Tessa looked deliberately at his white shirt.
“No tie.”
“That’s all?”
“And absolutely no background checks on the waiter.”
“No promises.”
“Leo.”
“Fine.”
She walked away.
He caught up two minutes later.
They drove separately.
Tessa insisted.
The restaurant was small.
Italian.
Mid-priced.
Exactly the sort of place Greg had planned to take her.
Leo looked deeply suspicious of laminated menus.
“You’ve never eaten somewhere like this?”
“I have.”
“When?”
“College.”
“Where did you go?”
“Georgetown.”
Tessa stared.
“You went to Georgetown?”
“Yes.”
“What did you study?”
“Finance.”
“Of course.”
“And philosophy.”
She nearly dropped her water glass.
“You?”
“You sound insulting.”
“You threaten kitchen appliances.”
“That has nothing to do with philosophy.”
Dinner lasted two hours.
They talked.
Actually talked.
Her father.
His brother.
Her childhood.
His fear of becoming Salvatore.
Tessa discovered Leo hated olives.
Leo discovered Tessa had once wanted to become a physical therapist.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Money.”
“You could go back.”
She gave him a warning look.
He raised both hands.
“I’m not offering to pay.”
“Good.”
“I was going to say you’re capable.”
She softened.
“Thank you.”
Outside the restaurant, rain had begun again.
Tessa stood beside her Honda.
Leo beside his black sedan.
For a moment they simply looked at each other.
“Tonight was nice,” she said.
“Normal?”
“Almost.”
“What ruined it?”
“Your driver following us.”
Leo looked toward the distant SUV.
“He’s emotional support.”
Tessa laughed.
Then silence.
Their eyes held.
Leo took one step closer.
Stopped.
“Can I kiss you?”
The question hit harder than his command in the foyer.
Because it was the opposite.
Not taking.
Asking.
Tessa looked at him.
Then whispered:
“Yes.”
The kiss was gentle.
No grabbing.
No claim.
Just warmth.
Rain.
A man learning restraint.
A woman choosing closeness.
When they separated, Leo rested his forehead lightly against hers.
“I still hate that burgundy dress.”
Tessa smiled.
“I bought another one.”
His eyes closed.
“You’re cruel.”
She laughed.
Then drove home.
For the first time, Leo did not follow.
But two days later, a letter arrived at Tessa’s apartment.
Not from Leo.
From her father’s attorney.
Inside was something she never expected.
A deed.
And a note written by Daniel Jenkins before his stroke.
Tessa, if you’re reading this, it means the past finally found us. There’s one last truth you need to know about the Santoros.
Tessa read the next sentence.
Then immediately reached for her phone.
May you like
Because the story was not over yet.
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