Whispers Under the Moonlight
As the last of the documents was signed and the final seal stamped, Leon settled back in his chair, breathing in deeply. Outside, the heavens had already darkened to blues and indigos, with the soft light of the moon pouring through tall windows in his study.
"This is… wearying," he grumbled in his thoughts rolling his shoulders in an effort to relieve the tension.
He rose, extending his tall frame, and turned to Aria, who had stood quietly behind him like a good servant—but even in quietness, she exuded warmth.
Suddenly, Leon moved forward and drew her into his arms.
She gasped, eyes widening as her cheek grazed his chest. "M-My Lord?"
Leon smiled, a flash of amusement and something more flickering in his golden eyes. "Now that the day's work is done… I think we were interrupted earlier in the afternoon."
A soft, surprised breath left her lips. Her cheeks, normally so serene, flushed a pale pink as she laid a hesitant hand on his chest. "You should rest, my Lord… You must be weary."
Leon dipped his head, his breath caressing the shell of her ear. "I am exhausted. If you don't believe me, maybe I can demonstrate just how much energy I have."
She gazed into his eyes, and for a moment, the stoic facade she wore so consistently cracked.
She kissed him before Leon could utter another word.
It was brief—just a kiss, hesitant but passionate. Her lips were soft and shuddering, her body tense in his arms. He was taken aback, shocked not at the kiss itself, but at the fact that she had kissed him.
Aria disentangled herself almost at once, now her face a deep pink glow.
"I—I have responsibilities to see to as a head maid, my Lord," she stuttered, voice tight and strained. "Please excuse me!"
And with that, she turned and scurried out of the door like a frightened rabbit.
Leon remained there, frozen. She her running like rabbit. Then he laughed softly to himself, golden eyes sparkling with amusement. "You cunning little maid… you fled. But not today—then tomorrow, I'll have you for sure the, hold you down my body and make you mine."
He glanced upward at the moonlight streaming through the windows, his spirits boosted despite the day's labor. Then his mind wandered.
Rias. That red-haired doll… his daughter who has daddy complex. How he thinks she … maybe she waited for me in my room.
With his heart thudding—not of lust alone, but of eagerness and inquisitiveness—Leon stepped out of his study and passed through the dark corridors of the mansion, the sound of every step echoing against the quietness.
He approached his chambers and pushed open the door.
And stopped dead.
His breath caught.
Candlelight flickered across the room, casting shimmering gold shadows on the floor. On the bed, clad only in a thin sheet, Rias stretched out—her bright red hair flowing about her like melted silk. Her small, delicate hands were over her chest and womanhood, but they were more of a taunt than a shield. Her red eyes locked onto his, blazing with a blend of defiance, passion, and something even more sinister—acceptance.
"Daddy…" she breathed.
Leon's heart pounded.
But he didn't budge.
Not yet.
He absorbed the situation—his brain whirling, his body responding, but something more. something deeper stirs. This wasn't just seduction.