The villa, finally, was peaceful again. No loud footsteps. No loud voice echoing through his halls.
He exhaled slowly and tilted his head to the side, eyes still fixed on the road even after the taxi had long disappeared. A drop of water fell from his damp hair, sliding down the side of his neck.
For a moment, his lips curved slightly—not into a smile but something like quiet satisfaction.
Scarlett was gone.
But then...his gaze shifted down again, to the small figure still standing near the gate.
Bella.
Still waving.
Still smiling faintly at nothing.
And somehow...his fingers curled tighter around the coffee mug.
During lunch, the atmosphere was unusually quiet. Bella sat at the long dining table, her hands resting gently beside her plate, barely touching her food. The clinking of silverware and faint rustle of the curtains from the breeze outside were the only sounds that filled the air.
To her surprise, Leonardo joined her. He sat across from her, his movements calm, deliberate. His face, as always, was unreadable—expressionless and stern, like a statue carved in stone. He didn’t say a word as the maid served his meal, and Bella didn’t dare to look up.
They ate in silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts.
But then, Leonardo’s deep voice broke through the stillness.
"Mom asked for our photos," he said quietly, not looking up as he sliced into his food.
"Huh?" Bella blinked, caught off guard. She had been staring down at her rice, thoughts drifting far away. She raised her head slowly, meeting his eyes.
He finally looked at her.
"Our wedding photos. She said it’s strange not to have any." His tone remained neutral, but there was a slight twitch in his brow, as if he didn’t like the idea either.
Bella swallowed and nodded softly, "Oh... okay."
Her fingers curled into the edge of the tablecloth.
They didn’t even have real wedding pictures. She didn’t even remember smiling that day.
And now... they were supposed to pretend?
Leonardo’s eyes didn’t leave her face.
"We’ll take them tomorrow," he said, voice firm. "The sooner it’s done, the better."
Bella just nodded again, unsure what to say.
She looked down at her plate again, her appetite completely gone.
Photos... for the sake of family. For the sake of appearances.
"And our honeymoon photos too," he added, his voice cool and steady as he picked up his glass of water.
Bella blinked at him. "Honeymoon...?"
Leonardo looked up, his dark eyes sharp. "We have to take them today," he said simply, as if they were just ticking off items on a business checklist.
Bella nodded quietly, unsure what to say. His tone gave no space for questions.
"Wear something nice," he added, standing up and straightening his sleeves. "We’re going to the beach."
She watched him walk away, still processing what he said. Honeymoon photos... on the beach?
As soon as she returned to her room, she opened her closet and picked a soft, pastel sundress with tiny embroidered daisies on it. The dress was light and airy, fluttering a little around her knees when she moved. She paired it with simple sandals, brushed her hair gently, and put a small clip on the side.
She looked at herself in the mirror, biting her lip nervously.
It’s just for the photos...
She walked outside and saw Leonardo was already waiting near the car, dressed in his usual black shirt and dark pants, sleeves folded just enough to show his strong forearms. He didn’t dress for the beach. But somehow... he still looked like he belonged on a magazine cover.
His eyes landed on her.
For a moment, he didn’t speak.
Then he opened the car door for her.
"Let’s go," he said.
As the car rolled to a slow stop near the private beach parking area, Bella peeked out the window. The sea breeze was already in the air, gentle and salty, and the soft sound of waves reached her ears. The sky was glowing with late afternoon warmth, casting a golden tint across the sand.
Just as she opened her door, another black car pulled up behind them.
From it stepped a tall man in a casual white shirt, holding a professional camera slung over his shoulder. He waved briefly, walking over with a confident stride.
Bella stood by awkwardly, smoothing her sundress as she noticed Leonardo already walking toward the man. The two began talking in low, professional tones.
She stayed behind near the car, clutching her small handbag in both hands. But when she faintly heard Leonardo say, "We’ll start with some romantic shots... natural poses, nothing staged," her face flushed immediately.
Romantic photos?
Her heart skipped a beat as she nervously looked down at her toes.
The photographer gave a thumbs-up and opened a case of equipment. "We’ll begin near the rocks—good lighting. I’ll guide you both."
Leonardo turned to her, his eyes unreadable as usual. "Come."
Bella swallowed her nerves and followed him, her dress fluttering in the breeze. The ocean glistened in the background, the beach empty except for them and the waves.
Her mind was racing.
Romantic...?
The photographer led them toward a smooth patch of pale sand, where the waves curled gently just a few feet away. The sun was lower now, casting a honey-colored glow across the ocean.
"Stand here," the photographer said, motioning to a spot where the light hit perfectly near rock. He sounded more like a director than a photographer, his tone firm and focused. "Mr. Moretti, behind her. A little closer. No, closer."
Bella stood nervously, her fingers twitching at her sides. She could feel Leonardo moving in behind her—his tall frame, the heat of his body, the way his shadow swallowed hers.
"Hand on her waist," the photographer added without a hint of hesitation, lifting his camera. "Yes. Now lean forward a bit. Chin beside her temple. Like you’re whispering something romantic."
Bella froze.
She could feel Leonardo’s breath near her ear as he obeyed without protest, one large hand resting gently but firmly on her waist. Her dress was thin—she could feel the pressure of his palm through the fabric. She tried not to gasp, but her body tensed.
The camera clicked.
"Don’t look so stiff," the photographer said. "Miss, lean back into him slightly. Relax your shoulders. That’s your husband, not a stranger."