The low hum of his car’s engine finally silenced as Leonard eased it into his private parking spot in the basent garage. He leaned back against the leather seat, exhaling with the kind of satisfaction that only ca after a night of solid sleep and a morning free of chaos. Things were far from perfect—but at least, they were... moving.
A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. For the first ti in years, Leonard felt grounded. The sight of Maya and Nathan running around in pajamas and Katherine scolding them gently from the kitchen echoed sweetly in his mory. Even if she was tense, even if her smiles were tight and her words clipped, she hadn’t slamd the door in his face. That counted as progress.
He grabbed his suitjacket from the passenger seat, slipping one arm through as he glanced into the rearview mirror to fix his tie. Classic. Clean. He looked like a man who had everything together.
Which was why he didn’t expect the sudden freeze of unease crawling up his spine as he noticed a figure standing in front of his car.
His brows furrowed. He blinked once, slowly.
No.
Not her.
Miranda stood directly in the glow of his headlights, arms folded, her long dark coat clinging to her curves like it was sewn onto her skin. Her lips curled into a smirk, and her painted nails drumd lightly against her arm. Her eyes, icy and calculating, locked on his through the windshield.
Leonard let out a sharp exhale. "You’ve got to be kidding ," he muttered to himself.
He opened the door and stepped out, slamming it harder than necessary. Without acknowledging her, he brushed past, walking with long strides toward the elevator.
He only made it five paces before he felt it—arms wrapping around him from behind, too tight, too familiar.
"Leonard," Miranda whispered sweetly near his ear, her breath annoyingly perfud, "you’re not going to say hello to ?"
He stilled, every muscle going rigid. "Get off ."
"Oh, co on. Is that any way to treat the woman who used to keep your bed warm?" she teased, her voice sticky with false affection.
Leonard peeled her arms off like she was a leech. His fingers gripped her wrist—not enough to hurt, but enough to make her realize this wasn’t welco. He turned, looking at her fully for the first ti, and his gaze was pure ice.
"You’ve got so goddamn nerve showing your face here."
Miranda only blinked, her smug smile still in place. "Why wouldn’t I? It’s a free country."
"You don’t belong here." His voice was low and edged with venom. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you burned every bridge between us. So what the hell do you want now?"
Miranda tilted her head, pretending to look wounded. "Leonard, please. You and I have history—"
"A history I regret more than you could ever understand."
That seed to crack her facade for a mont. Her lips twitched. "You’re not being fair. You act like I was the only one who made mistakes."
"No," Leonard snapped. "You were the only one who made the kind of mistake that tore apart the one thing I cared about more than myself. I cheated once. And the minute I did, I realized how wrong it was. But you—" he leaned in, voice low and dangerous, "—you made it your mission to ruin Katherine. You mocked her, flaunted our affair, and turned everything into a circus. I didn’t just end things with you—I erased you."
Miranda’s smile faltered, but she recovered quickly, slipping back into her seductive smirk. "Still so dramatic. But I know you, Leonard. You miss the fire. The danger. Life with her—" she scoffed, "—it’s routine. It’s boring. Admit it. I made things exciting."
Leonard’s fingers twitched at his side. "You’re here because whatever poor bastard you latched onto next figured out what a black hole you are and dumped you. So now you’re crawling back."
Her eyes flared, just slightly. A hit. "You don’t know anything about ."
"I know enough," Leonard said, voice like steel. "Enough to know you’re not going to ss up what I’m trying to rebuild. Not again."
She stepped closer. "What are you really rebuilding, Leo? Please don’t tell you’re going to crawl back to that ex-wife of yours."
He didn’t flinch. "It’s none of you bussiness."
Miranda stared at him, lips parted slightly.
Leonard stepped forward until there was only an inch between them. His voice dropped, lethal and low. "Try anything. One bad comnt about Katherine. One appearance near my building again without good reason—and I’ll make sure the next person you try to con sees every dirty little secret you’ve ever hidden."
Miranda’s eyes flashed with fury, but she didn’t reply. She yanked her arm free with a sharp breath and smoothed her coat down like nothing had happened.
Leonard walked past her without another word, footsteps echoing across the concrete floor. When he reached the elevator, he pushed the button with deliberate calm, jaw still tight.
Just before the doors opened, he heard the soft click of heels behind him.
She stood a few feet away now, arms folded, the sa damned smirk on her face like nothing just happened.
"You haven’t seen the last of , Leo," Miranda purred. "You never do."
Leonard stepped into the elevator. He turned, looked at her, and said, voice like frost, "And every ti I do, I’ll rember exactly why I left."
The doors began to close—but not before he saw her lift her fingers in a little wave, her smile as chilling as it was sweet.
Leonard didn’t smile back.
He let the doors shut on her face.
And as the elevator ascended, his reflection in the mirrored wall stared back at him—cold, controlled, and more resolved than ever.
Miranda was a ghost. And he’d be damned if he let her haunt the family he was trying to put back together.
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