Chapter 178 Public Opinion Storm
Chapter 178 Public Opinion Storm
Paris, France – Presidential Suite, Five-Star Luxury Hotel
At the heart of Paris, in the top-floor presidential suite of an ultra-luxurious hotel, Leo stood before the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. He shrugged off his rain-soaked trench coat and let it fall carelessly onto the carpet.
He didn't head for the shower. Instead, he walked silently to the bar, poured himself a generous glass of hard whiskey, and knocked it back in one swift motion.
The harsh liquor burned down his throat, but it couldn't dispel the heavy shadow weighing on his chest.
"Leo..."
A sultry voice called from behind him.
Ivy appeared, barefoot, wearing a wine-red silk slip nightgown. She moved to his side, instantly sensing the unusual, oppressive aura surrounding him.
Moments later, Serafina, Victoria, and Charlotte emerged from the inner rooms, forming a circle around him.
"Reaper, what's wrong?"
Victoria slipped her arms around Leo's toned waist, pressing her stunning face against his back. Her tone carried a rare gentleness. "Did the mission go badly? You look so unhappy."
Leo turned to face the breathtaking woman who was utterly devoted to him. The ice in his eyes thawed, if only slightly.
He sank into the leather sofa nearby, allowing Ivy to straddle his lap as his hands settled lightly around her slender waist.
"The mission went fine. Those Japanese are all dead."
Leo's voice came out rough, his gaze seeming to pierce through time and space, returning to that rain-drenched New York. "It's just... seeing Marcel break down today reminded me of some things."
The women fell silent, watching him with gentle eyes, waiting.
"When Marcel learned that Talia had died in despair fifteen years ago, what he felt—I understood it all too well."
Leo tilted his head back, closing his eyes. His Adam's apple bobbed painfully. "It's exactly like when I rushed back to Chicago from an overseas mission, only to be told that Luke had been blown to pieces."
"Can you imagine that feeling?" Leo's fingers tightened slightly, his voice carrying an uncharacteristic fragility. "You fight like hell to save someone. You think if you're just strong enough, you can pull them out of hell. But when you finally push through that door, reality slaps you across the face and tells you: you're too late."
"The despair Luke must have felt when he jumped from the sixty-eighth floor of the Empire State Building... the despair Talia felt when she bit through her own tongue in that pitch-black dungeon... they're exactly the same."
Seeing this man—who commanded the world like a god or demon—now reveal such profound sorrow, all four women felt their hearts clench painfully.
They knew that despite his cold, brutal exterior and his ruthless killing, deep down in the softest part of his heart, he always kept a place for those he truly cared about.
"Leo..."
Ivy's eyes reddened. She lowered her head and kissed away the exhaustion at the corners of his eyes with her soft lips, then buried her face in the crook of his neck, murmuring gently, "Don't do this... It's not your fault. If Luke could see that you wiped out the Romano family and the Drake family for him, he'd be proud. You've already done so much."
"That's right, Reaper—you're the strongest man in the world."
Serafina moved forward with feline grace, half-kneeling beside the sofa. Her narrow, beautiful eyes shimmered as her slender fingers began unbuttoning Leo's shirt. Her warm palm caressed the vicious scars across his chest, her tone dripping with seduction. "No matter how harsh the storms outside, no matter how deep the hatred, we'll all be here with you."
"Just forget those sad things for now."
Victoria leaned in alluringly, her long legs sliding onto the sofa as she pressed her stunning curves against Leo's arm. The strap of her wine-red nightgown slipped off her shoulder, revealing a generous expanse of smooth skin. "Reaper, if you're hurting inside, then take all that pain out on us. No matter how rough you get, I can handle it..."
Even Charlotte, usually as cold as ice, now approached the other side of the sofa with flushed cheeks. Her hands, somewhat clumsy but extraordinarily gentle, began massaging Leo's tense shoulders. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Leo... as long as it makes you happy, we'll... do anything."
Surrounded by four heated, gorgeous bodies, Leo's senses were filled with their various intoxicating designer perfumes.
Their tender touches, heated kisses, and the soft, seductive moans in his ears acted like the most potent aphrodisiac, gradually melting the ice in his heart.
Leo's eyes snapped open. The sorrow had been completely replaced by smoldering fire.
His rough hand gripped the back of Ivy's head, claiming her tempting lips in a fierce kiss, while his other hand dove beneath the gossamer-thin fabric of Victoria's gown.
---
A sweet, drawn-out cry rang out through the vast presidential suite, instantly igniting a storm of passion.
The sound of tearing fabric mingled with the women's intoxicated moans. Outside, the cold rain continued to fall, but inside the suite, the temperature had already climbed to its boiling point.
---
The Next Day
The rain in Paris had finally stopped.
But the city remained shrouded beneath a layer of oppressive, leaden clouds—as if foreshadowing an even greater storm to come.
In the luxurious presidential suite at the city center, after a night of wild, intense 'close combat,' the air still carried a faint, blush-inducing scent.
Leo lounged against the wide leather sofa, dressed in a loose black silk robe. Between his fingers was a freshly lit Cuban Cohiba cigar, its curling smoke obscuring his chiseled features.
"Reaper, the situation in Paris right now is more entertaining than any movie."
Victoria approached from behind the wide office desk, swaying gracefully in red-bottomed heels.
She wore only one of Leo's white dress shirts, its hem barely covering the tops of her thighs.
With each step, her long, shapely legs flashed in and out of view, radiating lethal temptation.
She moved to Leo's side and naturally straddled his solid thighs, holding out a military-grade tablet for him to see.
"Antoine's final video definitely caused an uproar, and Louis was hit hard."
Victoria's red lips curved upward as her slender fingers scrolled across the screen. "But The Evernight Order—those rats hiding in the shadows—have finally made their move. They're using their deepest connections in French politics and media to frantically suppress trending topics and delete negative news."
"Louis even hired the best PR teams in all of Europe, spreading conspiracy theories that Antoine fabricated the video out of revenge after being caught for embezzlement and bribery. If we don't add fuel to the fire, they'll bury this story in three days flat."
Listening to Victoria's report, Leo's deep eyes remained utterly calm.
His rough hands settled naturally around Victoria's slender, soft waist, even giving her a light squeeze that drew a soft, sultry sound from her lips.
"Suppress public opinion? That only works if they can suppress real, living victims."
Leo exhaled a thick plume of smoke, his lips curling into a cold, mocking smile. "Tell Pierre—it's showtime."