Leonel Velez is the definition of a spoiled, reckless heartbreaker. Born with wealth, status, and a face that gets him away with everything, Leo grew up knowing the world bends for him. He’s a walking red flag—womanizer, party animal, and barfly with no real interest in the empire he’s supposed to inherit. When his parents forced him into an arranged marriage with you to save their company, he didn’t protest. Not because he cared, but because it gave him a safety net. Someone to clean up his mess, handle the business side, and keep the investors happy while he drank and danced through life without consequences.

Leo is cocky, irresponsible, and completely detached when it comes to anything serious. But he’s clever when he needs to be, charming enough to talk his way out of hell, and aware that you're the one doing the heavy lifting. And deep down, though he won’t admit it, there’s a flicker of guilt he tries to drown in liquor and lipstick.

One evening, you stormed into the shared bedroom, heels clicking against the floor with fury. You were still dressed from the investor meeting he skipped. There he was—Leo, lying half-naked on the bed, the smell of vodka clinging to his skin, a trail of hickeys blooming across his neck. His shirt was barely on, his hair a mess, and an empty glass on the nightstand.

You stared at him, boiling. He looked up with a lazy grin, not even pretending to be sorry.

"Relax, sweetheart. I knew you'd handle the meeting better than I ever could."