My Fated Husband

Leon's POV 

This morning, my office felt unusually cold and uninviting as I walked in, my head already pounding from stress. Dropping into my leather chair, I exhaled heavily, trying to focus. But my thoughts were still on her.

"Leon." 

My father's voice snapped me upright as he barged in. His face was dark with anger as he tossed a newspaper onto my desk. The glossy pages splayed open, revealing photos that made my heart drop. 

There I was, entwined with a gorgeous woman, both of us in a state of undress that left little to imagination. Her dark hair spilled over her bare shoulders like silk. 

"I sent you to attend an engagement party, not to sleep with the engagement lady," My father growled, pointing at the damning images. "Explain this Leon!"

Clearing my throat, I avoided his piercing gaze. Oh... so it was her engagement party father forced me to attend? 

I deliberately avoided that because I didn't care what businessman had so much importance to father that I had to attend his daughter's engagement abroad. 

So when I landed in California four nights ago, I went straight to an upscale bar. And that's when I met the lady in question at the bar. 

She was dressed in a stunning red gown, her teary eyes sparking some protectiveness and possessiveness I didn't know existed in me. 

I knew right then and there that I needed to comfort that beauty. Plus, of course, have a taste of her, to be honest with myself. So I suggested we rebel against her ex, not knowing who she was.

And we ended up tangled in bed, my body finding peace and solace in her like coming home after a decade. But before morning, she was gone without a trace. 

I hadn't even known her name then. Now, I know... the newspapers say it's Linda. 

I'm somehow glad of this new information so I smiled to myself. Because now I can seek her. My possessiveness over her still exists even now when I'm a thousand miles away from her. And back in my country.

Her breathy gasps and the soft warmth of her body had haunted my memories ever after our passionate night together. 

I'm glad she quitted her engagement, because now I can have her to myself. All to myself.

"We met at a bar after she fled her engagement." I said finally finding my voice, but keeping it calm. 

"She told me her boyfriend was a scam and I helped her get over him. That's how we ended up in the photos, I suppose." 

I didn't have to lie to father. He'll find out everything if I did.

His gaze was unreadable as he processed my words. "Why were you at the bar and why were you the one to help her?" He asked, scrutinizing me. 

But I remained silent, watching him wordlessly. I didn't know what to say for sure.

Finally he spoke again, shaking his head and sighing. "All right, I'll let it slide since I've had my fair share of mistakes in early age." He chuckled.

I couldn't help but chuckle at that understatement. My father's wild younger years were practically family lore. 

But this felt different. This wasn't a meaningless fling. It was deeper—something I couldn't explain but knew was real. 

Father placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. "Nonetheless, this needs to be contained. These things spread like wildfire and before you know it, it reaches here in New York. I won't let a scandal damage the Vortigo Industries' business. So handle it." He commanded.

I nodded, my jaw tight. He was right. I had to fix this—quietly. And after that, I had to find Linda. I needed to make things right and prove that night wasn't just a mistake. 

"Consider it handled," I said, meeting his sharp gaze. "I'll take care of everything and ensure it doesn't reach here." 

My father, Joshua, studied me for a moment before nodding. "See that you do. Save our family's reputation." With that, he left, leaving me alone with the weight of the mess I'd created. 

Once he was gone, I called the hotel manager where I had stayed while in California. My voice was calm but icy. 

"This is Leon Vortigo. I just checked out of your hotel. But there were photos taken of me at your suite that have leaked. I want you to find whoever shared them and make them regret the day they were born." I warned him. Before he murmured a reply, I continued.

"Then, scrub every trace of this article online- news, social media posts, everything. I don't care how you do it but if you don't, I'll make sure your sorry establishment gets buried in lawsuits. You have 24hrs. Are we clear?" I threatened.

After a tense pause, the manager stammered his agreement. And so I indulged myself in office work. Or at least tried to.

Near the evening hours, I searched the internet for those damning pictures. But, to my surprise, they were gone. Clearly that worm of a hotel manager had gotten the message loud and clear.

Finally, I allowed myself to relax somewhat as dusk settled in. Loosening my tie, I left the office and climbed into my cherry red Aston Martin. 

Cruising through the city streets, I felt the weight on my shoulders lift slightly. Now what remained was seeking out my elusive beauty.

At home in my penthouse, I poured myself a drink and settled on the sofa, staring out at the glittering New York skyline. Ready to scrap for information on Linda. 

I opened my laptop, and began searching for any information about her. But to my frustration, rumors suggested she'd left town, and no one knew where she'd gone. 

It was like she had vanished into thin air. Probably because of the scandal.

Frustrated, I slammed the laptop shut and drained the rest of my whiskey. I had to find her, had to tell her what we had was more than just a fling. But how could I track someone who seemed determined to remain hidden? 

As exhaustion washed over me, I laid in my bed, closing my eyes. I let her memories consume me as my mind replayed every detail of that night—her soft whispers, her warmth, the way she melted into me. 

Two questions haunted me as I drifted into an uneasy sleep. Where has Linda gone? And how could I find her again?