Leonardo

They trained us not to act like hotheads, rigorously drilling it in every soldier to ensure we held our composure when making crucial decisions.

However, battlefields were different from a training environment. In the fog of war, resonating with human cries, chaos danced to life, murdering the ability to render logical decisions.

The conference room I marched into was one such zone but instead of bullets or grenades, I faced a shrapnel of questions. My inability to defend Zemira made me lose my temper.

Amidst accusations hurting her reputation, I faltered. I couldn't drag my feet away nor could I dam the tirade from flooding the room.

Everything was an involuntary act.

No amount of facts could explain how Zemira shifted the center of my gravity, spinning me off my axis.

In a moment of flight or fight my mind reprioritized, placing her protection above everything else regardless of the repercussions.

After I had escaped the debacle my declaration caused in the conference room, Haley walked me into a secluded meeting room.

Though she remained silent, a storm of anger roared past her when she pressed the door shut.

"Why do you always act like the messiah..." The heat from her glare burnt me. "When you could have said anything else."

"I know... I shouldn't have." I anchored my fingers into my hair to support the weight of my miscalculated judgment. "But we can get out of it. I know I can..."

"You can't. You cannot get out of it," she grunted and fell back in a chair. "You gave your fucking word, not just to anyone but..."

"Zem was being-"

"Mutilated on the television or whatever shit she's been through?" Haley already knew my line of defense. "Antonio was being attacked too, you know. His privacy is in tatters but you only came to her rescue."

I moved a step closer but Haley leaned back, her hands held up to maintain the distance.

"Believe me, Hales, when I say that it was out of a sense of duty."

"Really, Leo?" Her voice fumbled, emerging alongside the tears. "I want to believe you but I've suppressed my inkling for a long time. I'm not too blind to notice the way you look at her. It's sheer adoration, like... like... she holds some sort of spell over you."

In an act of acceptance, I knelt before her, trying to cup her face. Turning her head to the side, she pushed the chair backwards.

"I may have acted rashly, Haley, but you'll have to understand, it was only to help them out."

Streaks of mascara ran down her face before she wiped them over her sleeve, and coiled her arms around me, embracing me harder.

"You're such an idiot," she said.

She lingered with her arms tightened behind my back. It seemed like she was relishing the moment. Then, like all other times, she moved back, widening our distance.

"We cannot be seen together till you and Zem sort this mess." Haley's finger danced between us. "You understand, right?"

I nodded, my gaze lingering over the tip of my black oxfords.

"I understand."

A reckless decision led to so many collaterals. One stood in front of me, sniffling and wiping her nose.

"Go." She pressed both her hands to my chest, nudging me towards the door. "...Before someone catches you having an affair too."

My only respite was Haley's intact sense of humor.

The conference room was now all but deserted. Only Zemira remained, sitting on a chair with her knees to her chest and her head barricaded behind them.

"Come with me," I said, offering my hand.

Without a word, she grabbed her heels from the floor and walked barefoot at my side, just like the day at the hotel.

From strangers we had turned into acquaintances, holding hands and suppressing secrets.

With the press likely still lingering around, I took Zemira to the abandoned parking lot.

I was in desperate need of warmth, humidity, and the sensation of heat on my skin to jolt me back to my senses.

The bellowing exhaust vents drowned out all other noises from our surroundings. Yet, it was unsuccessful in stifling the gurgling of my gut, ready to toss out everything I consumed.

Since my announcement, Antonio's video views have been reduced. I was the trending topic now, the circus buffoon who jumped without any safety net, plummeting down along with my troupe.

"So about the press..."

"You couldn't have said anything else?" Zemira's icy, unflickering look froze my brain cells.

I felt its hold tightening at the back of my neck.

"I wanted to help."

"Well," sighing, she rubbed her face hard. "It didn't work. So what now?"

"I don't know, Zem." Why was I being burnt at the stake while Antonio was set scot-free?

"But you seemed to have a pretty clear idea of your intentions in that press conference."

"I did what was necessary at the time. I didn't think-"

"Didn't think about the repercussions? Is that so, Leonardo Brenton?"

"Don't call me that?" Rage dragged the words up from deep within my gut. The heat scratched my skin. "Stop trying to infuriate me." I was grinding my teeth to powder under the prick of blame. "The two of you made plans without considering contingencies, and now you're blaming me?"

"I didn't ask Antonio to go fuck a woman and I don't remember asking you to come to rescue me, Leonardo Brenton."

My eyes burned at her attempt to egg me on. I grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer. Seething, we squared off at each other.

Who would let go first?

My peripheral vision registered someone lurking in the shadows. Cameras.

"Stay quiet," I whispered, glancing at the photographers who moved like predators on the prowl. Zemira noted my expression and nodded. "It's for the cameras."

I coiled my hand around the back of her neck, pulling her into an embrace.

Soft clicks. Softer flashes.

For the world, it would be yet another object of gossip, something to read about before leaping out of bed to begin their humdrum mornings.

Holding onto my lapel, Zemira stayed in position, perfecting the act of an embrace. Beneath my jacket, my chest inflated. In her hold, my tired body relaxed. The burden pressing down on my spine eased.

She looked up.

Snap. The last strings of my inhibition snapped and fell at my feet.

"Zemira," A hoarse prayer. "They're gone." So was the moment.

She slid from my hold, blinking at her surroundings, a look of determination settling over her features.

To ensure there were no further lapses in judgement, we moved back to my office.

My father was seething when we re-entered my office, his nostrils fluttering, chest heaving.

"What were you thinking?" he screamed at the top of his lungs at his 'unworthy' son, as if it hadn't been his worthy heir who had butchered his plans. Wheezing in air, he puffed up his chest for a round of verbal abuse. "You're mad to say something so –"

"With all due respect, sir, we have a plan and everything is going accordingly." Zemira's words carried a certain air about them. "Though it may not appear so, the press conference was part of said plan."

I tossed my gaze from her to Dad and back. Her fine-tuned confidence washed over my father, pacifying his flaring nostrils and heaving chest. His bulging eyes receded a bit while the redness of his face and neck drained, leaving behind the burnt orange tint over his skin.

Without further comment, he left the office.

"How dare he talk to you like that?" Zemira turned towards me, eying Dad's diminishing figure. "Only I can do that."

It reminded me of our previous fight and the resultant parley – a personal punching bag.

Regardless of our recurring disagreements, I concluded that she might hold me in high regard. Why else would she pacify my father with a lie?

"What do we do now?" Zemira hopped on my desk, eying her dangling legs. "How do we get out of this?"

"Like I told Haley, for now, we play along. Whatever arrangement you had with Antonio, remains the same with me."

"Do you have any clue, how bad this looks?" The way her throat bobbed constantly like she was swallowing her fears and apprehensions, offered an insight into her psyche. "I'll be known as the woman who changed brothers like other people change their–"

"Undergarments?"

"Undergarments?" She peered at me, a question lingering over her bridged eyebrows. "I was going to say clothes."

"Are you saying people don't change their underwear?"

"Leeeoooo." She smacked her forehead and palmed her face. "You need to consult a doctor for your deviation-from-topic syndrome."

"Fine." Showing my palms, I surrendered. "What's worrying you?"

"Us." She pointed at me and then at the door, seemingly directing my attention to Antonio's office. "This isn't how relationships work, Leo. Nobody jumps from one man to another in a matter of seconds, especially not for marriage."

"Surely in real life, but this isn't real, Zem. This was a dangerous game you and Antonio decided to play. I somehow managed to throw myself in the mix too."

The task to help Zemira and her family's business wasn't mine to undertake. Yet, I had taken up the role of her protector, only to suffer the consequences.

"Yes, they'll write about the bizarre turn of events," I said, knowing too well that I was steering into the skid. "But as I recall, they said the same about your association with Anto too."

"I fucked up." Her eyes brimmed.

Realigning my gaze to the files on my table, I attempted another lie.

"We all fucked up in our own ways. Now let's try unfucking it."

Her smile faltered and she sunk her teeth into her lips.

"If you want to meet with Haley, you have to be careful," she said, sliding glassy eyes from me to the ceiling. "Please ensure you are covered by security and not monitored by anyone."

"What sort of deal did you have with Antonio? About other relationships?"

She shrugged, pouting her lips. "We didn't talk about the specifics but I assumed whatever we both wanted it to be."

Suddenly, her callous attitude about the video made sense.

Just like my father, Antonio planned everything underneath the veil of marriage. My mother's tear-streaked face danced in front of me - another victim of a similar game.

Zemira wrapped a hand around my wrist, pulling me closer.

"Did I say something wrong?"

"No, you didn't. I'll draw up a contract. Everything will be clearly stated in it, from sharing publicity profits to who would do what and all... But-"

"But what?"

"It will terminate in a year, after which I'll leave."

"Where would you go?" She asked, then laughed. Her titters were music to my ears. "Back to the grind!"

"Yes, I have to report back," I said. Zemira's face darkened beneath an invisible shadow. She gripped the edge of the desk, color draining from her knuckles. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's fine." Her eyes glistened. "So one year, huh?"

"Yes, one year."

It became hard to swallow, harder to breathe. Inhaling through my mouth, I gripped the back of my neck, breaking off the drowning sensation.

"Antonio told me, the marriage would yield results within months," I said.

"But with Antonio, it wasn't a one-year thing." She hopped off the desk and paced in circles, chewing her cuticles.

I halted her loop, holding onto her shoulders.

"With me, it's a matter of principle. I'd never marry for business."

"Got it." She tapped at my chest and moved away. "We have lots to do then."

She scanned the room for her next words, focusing on the corner vase and tapping her foot.

"I'm not a mind reader, Zem, but I can tell when someone's hiding something."

"Nothing," she cleared her throat, displaying a reserved smile. "There's nothing on my mind."

It would require time and patience to break her tough exteriors and to learn about her vulnerabilities but I wasn't worried. After all, I had a whole year for that. What I lacked was the time to get our act together before the press closed in.

"So first things first, move-in," I said, knowing well what Antonio had planned.

All I needed was the perfect timing for execution.

"Move in?" Mouth ajar, she gawked at me as if I had asked her to murder someone. "You want me to move into the Brenton mansion?"

"No, silly. I want you to move into my apartment. I don't live with my family."

Zemira's ashen expression indicated that she wanted to fight my proposal, but her pursed smile told me she had decided to adhere.

"Okay... Okay... I'll arrange for the move within a month and then–"

"A week," I cut her off. "We have to fast-track it, Zem Zem."

"What? No. Nobody would believe..." she began, but something, maybe my exasperated grunt made her stop.

"You're going in a loop, Zemira," I said. "We're not doing this to convince anyone but to rake up as much attention as we can before we're old news."

After an hour of straining her neck with disagreeing headshakes, Zemira agreed to the proposition. She accepted all my conditions like a child who had no other option but to listen to the elders.

Part of me wanted to learn the circumstance that made her malleable, but I refrained from asking. In an attempt to help Zemira, I was losing the power to defend myself from her spells.

Haley was right. Zemira had an invisible hold over me. It had taken this abstruse turn of events to make me realize the same.

~

What do you think would happen next? Will it be all smooth sailing after this?

What about the move-in? Any little bombs, or Easter eggs hiding there?

Let me know your thoughts in the comment box...