Resident 4 Leon Novels & Stories

Then I saw the car pull in. My chest tensed. I watched the familiar black Mercedes roll in like it owned the driveway. My breath slowed as I saw the passenger door open, and Leon stepped out. He didn’t look tired. Or drained. Or stressed. His face was unreadable, calm in a way that made me uneasy. His jacket was draped over his shoulder casually, and he walked like he had nowhere to be in a hurry. Then I saw the driver door open. Sheila.

White marble floors, contemporary furniture in grey and black tones, and artwork that was likely worth more than her college degree were all part of the interior's elegant design. It was lovely. It was chilly. It didn't feel like home at all. "You're late." Aria whirled around. Still wearing his earlier suit, but with his sleeves rolled up and his tie loosened, Leon stood in the doorway of what appeared to be the kitchen. He seemed to belong in a magazine spread about strong men and their ideal lives, even in casual settings. "The text said twenty minutes. I was ready at nineteen." Traffic isn't an excuse. He didn't even look at her suitcase as he walked past her and toward the windows. Down

"I'll take the truck. drive it east. Make a lot of noise. Draw their fire." "That's suicide, Leon." "It's the job," Leon says. "I'm the Sergeant-at-Arms. My job is to protect the President. And right now... you're the only President I recognize." Silence. Heavy and thick. "Go to the city," Leon instructs. "Not the main hospital. Go to the clinic on 4th. Dr. Vane. He's a friend. He can run the DNA fast. Rush job." "Leon..." "Get the answer, brother," Leon says. "Find out if it's your blood. And then win this war."

and with that, he retreated. “Em, I’ll drive you to the Grand Opal,” Leon stated. “Maybe even take your new ride for a test drive,” he joked. “I’ll go get my car, it’s parked in the lot. I’ll only be a minute. Meet you out front.” Leon walked off and Richard accompanied me to the grand entrance, waiting with me outside in the cool night’s breeze.

I quickly replied: "Nothing urgent. Could you give me his home address?" Mark sent it over without hesitation. I opened the map to find that it wasn’t far from me. Immediately, I stood up, got ready, and took a cab over. Leon’s house was a standalone property that screamed luxury. Just as I was about to ring the doorbell, I realized that the gate wasn’t even closed. It opened with a light push. As I walked in while messaging Leon at the same time, I heard a frustrated voice from inside. "Are you serious, man? You're Leon Williamson!"

I was going to have to get used to that. "My dad gets discharged in three days," I said. Leon put his phone down. "I know. Dr. Reyes sent me the update last night." "He can't go back to his apartment. Fourth floor walkup, no elevator, the bathroom is a hazard for someone with his recovery requirements." I poured coffee and stood at the counter. "I need to find him somewhere." "He'll stay here," Leon said. I looked at him. "There are three guest rooms," he said simply. "The one on the east side has a bathroom with no steps and a view he'll probably like."

Someone immediately pointed out: “Our tallest building only has 33 floors. Where did 3405 come from? Are you a scammer?” “So someone’s infiltrated our owners’ group?” “No wonder he was stirring up trouble earlier. He’s not even from our complex—probably has ulterior motives.” “Could he be trying to create conflict among us to drive down property prices?” “That’s possible! Let’s find out exactly what kind of creature this is!” Within moments, the group turned on Leon. Some questioned him, some cursed at him, others began digging into his profile. Unable to withstand the humiliation—and not daring to confront so many people at once—Leon hurriedly left the group.

Can't wait to see you. I exhaled slowly, telling myself this was the right choice. The safe choice. Yet even as I set my phone down, my eyes drifted back to Dante's note, my fingers lingering over his handwriting longer than necessary. --- Leon's apartment was warm, inviting—nothing like the cold, grand mansion I had grown used to. The moment I stepped inside, I was struck by the simplicity of it. The cozy furniture, the soft glow of the lamps, the faint scent of something cooking. Books stacked neatly on shelves, framed photographs on the walls showing smiling family members—it was the kind of normal home I'd never really had.

“Already?” Seraphina stepped out to retrieve his bag from the car. Handing it to him, Leon remarked, “Thanks for today, Seraphina. Your mom’s porridge was amazing—be sure to thank her for me.” She smiled. “No problem, Mr. Everhart. Get some rest.” She watched as he walked toward his building before driving off. Leon’s residence was a penthouse duplex in the most luxurious section of a development his family owned. Though she had clearance to enter the property, Seraphina had never seen his home firsthand and wasn’t curious to.