The Billionaire He Pretended Not to Be Chapter 06
After fleeing Chicago, I switched phone numbers and drifted through countless cities before finally
settling down in a quiet coastal small town.
Two full years slipped past, and I never imagined I’d lay eyes on Leo again.
My boss and I stepped into the banquet hall to find it packed wall-to-wall. Guests murmured to pne another, buzzing about the two powerful families present.
Then the entrance doors swung open.
The entire room fell dead silent, every head twisting to face the doorway.
Through the thick crowd, I spotted those familiar eyes instantly-still devastatingly handsome, still far out of my reach.
Santoro walked directly behind him. They were the honored guests, the pair every attendee begged to introduce themselves to.
Nothing had shifted at all. My disappearance hadn’t left even the faintest dent in Leo’s life.
Someone jostled my shoulder hard, wine spilling over the glass and onto my hands.
I set the drink down and ducked behind my boss, right as Leo’s gaze drifted casually across our
section of the room.
Santoro murmured something to him; he snapped back to focus and kept walking forward.
Swarms of guests crowded around them, and I exhaled a quiet breath, edging toward the far edge of
the hall.
Leo halted mid-step, spun on his heel, and marched straight toward me.
“Leo? Where are you going?” Santoro’s voice turned sharp with irritation.
He didn’t slow his pace.
His eyes swept the room and fixed firmly on me.
I turned to walk away.
He quickened his strides, and the next second, his fingers wrapped firm around my wrist.
Leo stared down at me wordlessly for two long seconds, then a faint smile tugged at his mouth
“It really is you, Autumn.”
Ever since I left Chicago, I’d dreamed of running into him every so often.
In those nightmares, he was always cold, mocking, that familiar sneer permanently etched across his lips.
This time was different. A near-genuine wave of relief softened his features.
Leo almost looked… glad to see me.
I felt nothing of the sort. That rainy night two years prior had haunted every single one of my nights
since then.
I wrenched my wrist free and stumbled one step backward.
Leo’s hand hovered empty in midair, his smile fading away completely.
“You’ve got nothing to say to me?”
I shot the question back flatly. “Is there anything left worth saying?”
His expression turned icy cold. He glanced away without another word and walked off.
He never came near me for the rest of the night.
Most guests lingered around trying to curry favor with both the Romano Family and the Santoro
line.
But Leo kept a deliberate distance, his features unreadable, while Santoro simmered with obvious resentment-no guest dared approach their tense table.
I kept checking the clock, desperate for this endless evening to end.
Finally, as dusk settled outside and I prepared to leave, Leo spoke up.
He leaned lazily against his chair, tone dismissive and casual. “Which firm do you work for?”
Every head in the room swiveled our way.
My boss stepped forward hastily. “Don Romano–”
“I’m asking her.”
Leo’s dark, heavy stare pinned me rigid in place.
“Forget it. Send me a message later.”
He knew perfectly well I’d blocked him ages ago.
My boss nudged my elbow, urging me to comply.
I held Leo’s gaze steady, refusing to move an inch.
We stared each other down for a long moment. A flicker of annoyance flashed across his eyes.
At last, his patience snapped. He snatched my wrist tight once more. “Fine. We’re heading back to the estate. We’ll talk once we get home.”
