Chapter 217 Cat and Hag

Chapter 217 Cat and Hag
Leon’s POV

I stepped into Kimberly’s living room, keeping my hands stuffed into my trousers pockets.

The guy she was with gave me a quick, polite nod before disappearing into the kitchen to give us some privacy.

Kimberly tied the belt of her silk robe tighter around her waist, leaned against the back of her sofa, and looked at me with a serious expression.

The playful mood from two minutes ago was completely gone.

"So," Kim said, folding her arms. "What brings the great Leon Steele to my apartment at seven-thirty on a Thursday night?"

"I need your help, Kimberly," I said, my baritone low and flat. I didn't bother beating around the bush. "I need to know what is going on with Bianca."

Kimberly raised an eyebrow, staying quiet for a beat. "What do you mean, what's going on with her? She moved into her new place, she's working and she's living her life."

"She looks at me like I am a monster," I said, stepping closer. "Yesterday, she threatened to sue me for sexual harassment outside the office.”

"What?” She blinked.

"Today, she acted like I didn't exist. When I went to her house last night to drop off a set of hair ribbons she forgot, she took the box and threw it straight into the trash in front of my face."

Kimberly let out a small, quiet sigh, looking down at the carpet for a second before meeting my eyes again.

"Leon... maybe she just feels betrayed," Kim said carefully, as if she was picking her words with extreme caution. "When a woman feels like the person she trusts most in the world has been keeping things from her, or playing a game behind her back, she reacts with anger. She puts up a wall to protect herself."

"Betrayed?" I repeated. "Betrayed by what? I cleared Hilda out of the estate. I put Marcus in a holding cell facing felony charges. I bought her a safe house and I set up security. Come on, what on earth could I have possibly done to betray her?"

"I can't tell you how to run your love life, Leon," Kim said, holding her hands up defensively. "All I'm saying is, maybe there are things she thinks you did. Maybe she feels like you haven't been entirely transparent with her about everything."

"Like what, Kimberly?" I pressed, stepping right up to the coffee table, my hands clenching into fists. "Tell me. If there is something she thinks I did, just tell me so I can fix it! I am losing my mind trying to guess what ghost I'm fighting here."

"Look, I can't speak for her!" Kimberly shot back as she stood her ground. "Bianca is my best friend. The last time I left her house, we had an argument. She was deeply emotional, she said things that hurt me, and frankly, I am not even in the mood to go back over to her place right now. I can't just blurt out her personal thoughts to you."

I stared at her, feeling completely stonewalled. "So what am I supposed to do? Just watch her hate me for something I don't even know?"

Kimberly looked at my exhausted face. "If you really want to fix this, you need to make her talk to you. Stop buying her things, stop sending car keys, and stop acting like her boss. Find a way to sit her down in a room where she can't just run away, and make her spill the juice. Make her say out loud whatever it is she thinks you did. That is the only way you are ever going to clear your name."

I stood there for a long moment, digesting her words.

She was right. I had been throwing luxury and space at the problem, hoping it would soothe her, while the real poison was sitting unspoken between us.

"Thank you, Kimberly," I murmured, taking a step back toward the front door. "I'm sorry for interrupting your evening."

"It's fine, Leon," Kim said, offering a small, sympathetic nod. "Just... go easy on her. She's hurting."

I left her apartment building, walked out into the cool night air, and got back behind the wheel of my sports car.

I started the engine, but I didn't feel an ounce of relief. My head was spinning with more questions than answers. What did she think I did? What lie was she holding against me?

I pulled out onto the main boulevard, planning to head back to my empty estate.

But as I passed through the lounge district downtown, a sudden flash of light near a private club entrance caught my attention.

I saw someone very familiar.

I slowed the car down, pulling up to the curb a few yards away to get a clearer look.

Stepping out of the glass doors of an exclusive lounge was Hilda.

My jaw clenched instantly.

She was wearing a loud, expensive cocktail dress, her hair done up, holding a glass of champagne in her hand. But what made my blood run cold was the man standing right beside her.

It was Julian.

I sat back in my seat, staring through the windshield in absolute disbelief.

Hilda was supposed to be hiding out in a hotel, ruined and disgraced after being thrown out of my house.

Yet here she was, out on the town, laughing and hugging her gym coach right in front of the valet stand.

They looked utterly thrilled, celebrating like two people who had just pulled off a heist.

Julian pulled her into a brief embrace, whispered something in her ear that made her laugh hysterically, and then held the door of a sleek silver sedan open for her.

She slid into the passenger seat, he hopped into the driver's side, and the car pulled out into the evening traffic.

I didn't want Hilda back.

That was an absolute fact. I wanted nothing to do with either of them ever again.

But that didn't help my curiosity. What were they celebrating?

Driven by that curiosity, I shifted my car into gear and smoothly pulled into the traffic lane, following the silver sedan from three cars back.

I kept a steady distance, watching them navigate through the city streets.

They didn't head toward the luxury hotel strip where Hilda’s luggage had been delivered and they certainly weren't heading toward Julian’s local gym district either.

Instead, the silver sedan took a left, heading straight toward the upscale
residential zone of Sunset Ridge.

I watched in shock as the car made a familiar right turn, heading directly into Bianca's gated neighborhood.

They were paying a visit to Bianca.

Without wasting a single second, I grabbed my phone off the dashboard console, hit the speed dial, and placed the call.

Elias picked up on the second ring. "Mr. Steele?"

"Where are you right now?" I demanded eagerly.

"I am still at the central precinct, sir," Elias replied. "I am going over the final evidence logs with the lead officers for Marcus's hearing next week—"

"Drop everything you are doing right now, Elias," I growled, cutting him off completely as I trailed the silver sedan turning onto Bianca's street. "Grab two of your best security men and get over to Bianca's house immediately."

"Sir? What happened?" Elias asked, stunned.

"My ex-wife and her boytoy are paying her a visit right now.”