Reborn Heiress: Escaping My Contract Marriage with the Cold CEO Chapter 80: Shut Up, Charles

Leo’s grip on my wrist was tight enough to bruise, but I wasn’t about to complain. Not when his touch sent sparks skittering up my arm, not when his stupidly perfect face was all sharp angles and barely contained fury as he dragged down the hallway.

Charles trailed behind us, his usual smirk replaced with sothing darker. "You realize this is exactly what I warned you about, right?"

Leo didn’t slow. "Shut up, Charles."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh good, the cryptic family drama is back. I was worried we might actually have a conversation where soone says sothing straightforward for once."

Leo shot a glare over his shoulder. "You shouldn’t even be here."

"Yeah, yeah, I’m a liability, a distraction, a walking target—pick your favorite guilt trip and stick with it, Annison." I yanked my wrist free, but only because I wanted to, not because he let . "But newsflash—I don’t care. You don’t get to kiss like that and then pretend you’re doing so noble favor by pushing away."

His jaw clenched. "You have no idea what you’re—"

The lights went out.

One second, we were standing in the dim glow of the Belmont mansion’s hallway sconces, the next—total darkness.

I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust, but the blackness was absolute.

"Well," I said, "that’s not ominous at all."

"Quiet," Leo hissed. His hand found my arm again, fingers digging in like he was afraid I’d vanish.

Charles muttered sothing under his breath, and then there was the sound of fabric rustling—probably him pulling out his phone. A second later, a weak blue light illuminated his face, casting eerie shadows under his eyes. "Power’s out in the whole place."

Leo’s grip on tightened. "We need to go. Now."

I opened my mouth to ask why we were suddenly in such a hurry—it wasn’t like a blackout was the weirdest thing to happen at a rich-people party—but then I slled it.

Smoke.

Thick, acrid, curling through the air like a living thing.

"Oh, you’ve got to be kidding ," I muttered.

Charles’s phone light swung toward the end of the hall, where a faint orange glow flickered beneath one of the doors. "Soone set a fire."

Leo didn’t hesitate. He shoved toward the nearest exit. "Move."

I stumbled but caught myself, heart hamring. "Who the hell sets a fire at a party? That’s, like, villain 101. Could they be any more cliché?"

"Oliver." Leo’s voice was a low growl. "Not. Now."

Right. Fine. Panic later, snark later, survive now.

We bolted down the hall, Charles leading the way with his phone light, Leo practically herding like I was so kind of reckless sheep he was responsible for. The smoke thickened with every step, clawing at my throat. Distantly, I heard shouts, the sound of glass breaking, the panicked hum of a crowd realizing they were trapped in a burning mansion.

Then—a hand grabbed .

Not Leo’s. Not Charles’s.

A stranger’s grip, yanking sideways into a darkened alcove.

I barely had ti to suck in a breath before I was slamd against the wall, a forearm pressed to my throat. The faint glow of Charles’s phone light vanished around the corner—they hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

Great.

A face leaned in close, features obscured by shadow, but the voice was smooth, amused. "Leonardo Annison’s new favorite distraction. How adorable."

I wheezed against the pressure on my windpipe. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

The man—whoever he was—chuckled. "I’m sure you do." His free hand patted down, quick and efficient, like he was looking for sothing. "Tell , does Leo know you’re just using him to get close to the family?"

I choked out a laugh. "Oh, please. If I wanted to get close to the Annisons, I’d have picked the one who doesn’t brood like a romance novel hero."

The pressure on my throat eased just slightly. "Interesting."

Then—bang.

The man jerked sideways as Leo tackled him off . They hit the ground hard, a tangle of limbs and snarls. Charles reappeared, phone light swinging wildly, illuminating the fight just long enough for to see Leo drive his elbow into the guy’s ribs.

I coughed, rubbing my throat. "Took you long enough."

Leo didn’t answer. He was too busy pinning the guy down, one knee on his chest. "Who sent you?"

The man grinned, blood sared across his teeth. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"

Then he moved—fast.

Sothing glinted in his hand. A knife.

I didn’t think. I lunged, grabbing the nearest thing I could find—a stupidly expensive-looking vase—and brought it down on his head.

Crash.

The guy went limp.

Silence.

Leo and Charles both stared at .

I dropped the broken vase pieces. "What? He was about to stab you."

Leo’s expression did sothing complicated. Then he stood, dragging up with him. "We’re leaving."

Charles nudged the unconscious guy with his foot. "Should we...?"

"Leave him." Leo’s voice was ice. "The fire will take care of it."

I swallowed hard. Right. Because in Leo’s world, people casually let their enemies burn to death.

Note to self: Do not piss off Leonardo Annison.

We ran.

The smoke was everywhere now, stinging my eyes, clawing at my lungs. The mansion had turned into a maze of shadows and heat, the distant roar of flas growing louder. Sowhere, soone scread.

Leo never let go of my hand.

We burst through a side door, stumbling into the cool night air. I sucked in greedy breaths, coughing as my lungs tried to expel the smoke. Around us, other partygoers spilled onto the lawn, so in hysterics, others already on their phones calling for help.

Leo pulled farther from the house, his grip almost painful. Charles kept pace beside us, scanning the crowd like he expected another attack.

"Who was that guy?" I rasped.

Leo’s jaw tightened. "Soone who won’t be a problem anymore."

"That’s not an answer."

"It’s the only one you’re getting."

I glared at him. "You’re insufferable."

He turned on so fast I almost stumbled back. His hands frad my face, rough but not painful, his eyes burning brighter than the fire behind us. "You could have died in there."

I raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, no kidding. And whose fault is that?"

He flinched.

Good.

Charles cleared his throat. "As touching as this is, we need to go. Now. Before the cops show up and start asking questions."

Leo didn’t move. His thumb brushed over my cheekbone, just once, like he couldn’t help himself. Then he let go. "Charles is right."

I exhaled sharply. "Of course he is."

Leo grabbed my hand again, pulling toward the waiting car.

And I let him.

Because as much as I hated to admit it, the fire wasn’t an accident.

And that guy in the hallway?

He hadn’t been after Leo.

He’d been after .