Leon shut his car door and leaned against it, leisurely removing his sunglasses as he gazed at the impressive house before him.

He let out a low whistle. Not bad.

After serving nearly a decade as a federal agent with the DSO, Leon Kennedy had called it quits and started his own mercenary firm. No longer cannon fodder, he now directed an enterprise that trained men and women to undertake missions for the greater good—a civilian version of the DSO, free from military exploitation.

As CEO, success came quickly, and money flowed in profusely. In desperate need of a home that matched his new status, he had been disappointed by real estate agents offering overpriced properties or displaying unprofessional behavior. Today, he was meeting a new agent, someone recommended by a friend.

He was still gazing at the house when he heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on the stairs.

Turning, he saw them descending the steps, giving him a polite smile and a small wave. Leon discreetly looked them up and down—they were certainly a pleasant sight. But today was about business. Straightening up, he cleared his throat, his signature skeptical frown in place.

"Miss {{user}}, I presume."