His Property: A Billionaire Possession Romance

Aria didn't mean to overhear the conversation.

She was just walking down the hall toward the study, planning to return the folder of legal documents she'd been reviewing. The door was ajar. She paused—only for a second—when she heard her name.

"She's becoming a liability."

The voice was unfamiliar. Male. European accent. Clipped. Cold.

Leon responded, voice low and unreadable. "She's not a liability. She's leverage."

Aria's fingers tightened around the folder.

"I warned you," the man continued. "Women like that… they cost more than they're worth. They don't know how to stay in the background."

"She's not in the background," Leon said simply. "She's the reason they're still looking."

There was a pause.

Then: "You're not actually getting attached, are you?"

A beat.

Then Leon said, "She doesn't matter."

Aria didn't hear the rest.

She turned on her heel and walked away before she could hear something worse.

By the time he found her in the penthouse sunroom an hour later, she was curled in one of the oversized chairs, legs tucked under her, pretending to read.

Leon didn't speak at first.

He just watched her.

She kept her eyes on the page, even though the words swam uselessly in front of her.

"I thought we agreed not to pretend," he said.

She flipped a page. "We agreed on a lot of things. Doesn't mean they're true."

He stepped closer. "You heard something."

"Is it supposed to be a secret?" she asked, finally looking up. "That I'm just leverage? That I don't matter?"

His expression didn't change. But something flickered behind his eyes.

"I was managing perception," he said calmly.

"No," she replied. "You were managing me."

Leon's jaw tensed. "It's part of the deal."

"And you keep using that as an excuse. Every time something real slips out, you shove it behind the contract like it gives you permission to lie."

He walked to the glass wall and stared out at the skyline.

"You're not a distraction," he said quietly.

"I heard you say I was."

"Not to them. To me."

Aria stood, fury simmering in her chest. "Then maybe stop pretending you don't want me when I'm two seconds from crawling into your lap."

The words hung in the air like a slap.

Leon turned.

And in two strides, he was in front of her.

"You think I don't want you?" His voice was sharp, guttural. "I want you so badly it's a problem."

"Then fix it," she said, almost breathless.

He stared at her for one long moment.

Then his hand came up, gently brushing her cheek. She leaned into the touch instinctively.

But the kiss didn't come.

Instead, he stepped back again. Hands fisted at his sides. Breathing shallow.

"No," he said.

Aria blinked. "Why?"

"Because once I have you, I'll never let you go. And I think part of you still wants to leave."

She stared at him, throat tight.

"You're scared," she whispered.

He met her gaze. "I'm controlled. There's a difference."

"No," she said. "There's really not."

That night, they attended another event — a quieter one this time. A private gallery opening downtown. Art. Champagne. Silence between them thick as velvet.

Aria looked stunning in deep burgundy silk, her hair in soft waves, lips painted with confidence.

Leon kept his distance most of the night.

Until a young investor cornered her near the sculpture exhibit.

He was charming. Smart. Handsome in a harmless kind of way.

He flirted. She smiled.

And then suddenly, Leon was there.

No announcement.

Just presence.

He appeared at her side like a shadow and cut cleanly into the conversation, his hand sliding around her waist in a way that said mine with no need for words.

The investor blinked, glanced between them, and made a polite excuse to escape.

Aria turned, annoyed. "Really?"

Leon's hand didn't move. "He wanted more than small talk."

"So? I can handle it."

"I didn't like the way he looked at you."

"Then maybe stop acting like you don't want to be looked at."

His jaw flexed.

Then he leaned down, voice quiet and firm against her ear.

"You smile like that for anyone else again, and I'll remind you whose name is on your bracelet."

Her breath caught.

Because the way he said it didn't sound like a threat.

It sounded like a promise.

Back at the penthouse, silence reigned.

Until she pushed him.

Literally.

She shoved him lightly as he stepped into the living room. "You don't get to act jealous when you refuse to claim me."

Leon turned slowly.

"You think I'm not claiming you?" he asked, voice dangerously low.

She laughed bitterly. "You kiss me with your eyes, Leon. That's it. That's all I get. Stolen looks and unfinished moments."

He took a step forward.

"Then finish one," he said.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

Her heart stopped.

He stood there, hands at his sides, chest rising and falling in slow, restrained breaths.

"I'm not going to take what you won't give," he said. "But if you want it—if you want me—you can have it. Just once. No rules. No contract. No consequences."

She swallowed hard.

Her mind screamed no.

But her body?

Her body had already decided.

Aria reached for him.

He didn't move.

Didn't breathe.

Until her lips touched his.

And then everything broke.

His hands slammed against her back, pulling her in like gravity had given out.

The kiss was not gentle.

It was messy. Hot. Desperate.

His mouth claimed hers like he'd been starving and she was the only thing that could feed him.

Her fingers slid into his hair. His tongue stroked hers. They collided, hungry and aching, like everything unsaid had turned to fire.

And still — still — it wasn't enough.

He kissed her like he was trying to stop time. Like he was terrified of what would happen when he let go.

But eventually, he did.

Pulled back. Breathing hard. Eyes dark with something that looked too much like fear.

She stood there, lips swollen, chest heaving.

He touched her face once more.

Then stepped back again.

And said the words that gutted her.

"Now you know why I shouldn't have started."