Leonardo’s sharp gaze was still fixed on her, expressionless but intense. His finger had just left her lips when Isabella, with a quick blink and trembling lashes, suddenly reached up and caught his hand.
"I didn’t drink!" she said, holding his finger like it was something precious. Her voice cracked softly, and her deep brown eyes, shimmering with unshed tears, locked with his.
"They gave me a glass, and I thought it was water," she whispered. "I didn’t know..."
Her grip on his hand tightened slightly, like she was scared he wouldn’t believe her.
"Will you believe me?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, vulnerable, hopeful... like a child begging not to be misunderstood.
Leonardo stared at her for a long moment, then slowly looked down at their hands, her small fingers wrapped gently around his. She was holding him like he was something breakable.
His chest tightened.
"Yes," he said finally, his voice low but firm.
Isabella’s eyes widened. Her breath caught in her throat, and then the tears she’d been holding in finally slipped from the corners of her eyes.
"Thank you," she breathed out and without thinking, she leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him.
Leonardo froze.
Her small body pressed softly against his, warm and light, like a fragile little bird seeking comfort. Her face was tucked into his chest, and he could feel the faint tremble in her shoulders.
He didn’t know what to do with his hands for a second.
But then, slowly, cautiously, his arms lifted and settled around her. One arm around her back. One hand gently on the back of her head.
She smelled like flowers and sweets.
"I’ll send breakfast for you," Leonardo said softly, his voice warmer than usual. But as he stepped back, the change in his face was immediate—gentle one second, then cold the next. The moment the hug ended, so did any trace of softness in his expression.
Isabella, still teary-eyed, nodded quickly, not wanting to say anything that might bring back the coldness in his voice.
"Get fresh," he added, his tone now back to his usual commanding one. She gave another silent nod, clutching the front of his jacket that was still around her shoulders like it was a shield.
He turned around and left the room without looking back.
But as he walked down the hallway, his footsteps became faster, sharper. The calm in his eyes had long vanished, replaced by a storm brewing underneath. His hands clenched tightly at his sides.
She lied to him.
Alexa lied.
He had been gone only one night, and they dared to treat her like this?
When Leonardo reached the living room, the morning sun had barely warmed the room. Alexa was sitting on the edge of the couch, lazily eating breakfast, acting like nothing had happened. Casper sat beside her, nervously glancing at his phone.
Leonardo didn’t say a word.
He reached for the holster at his hip.
Click.
The metallic sound of the safety coming off his gun made everyone freeze. Without a warning, he raised his hand and—
BANG!
The bullet struck the floor just inches from Alexa’s foot, blowing chips of wood and ceramic into the air.
"AHHH!" Alexa shrieked, jumping back and stumbling off the couch. Her legs gave out, and she fell back against the cushions, clutching her ankle in panic. The bullet had missed her skin by mere millimeters.
"Are you insane?!" Casper shouted, standing up in shock.
Leonardo’s hand was still raised, his gun steady, but his voice was calm—ice cold.
"I think I’ve said this before," he said quietly. "I hate liars."
His eyes were fixed on Alexa, emotionless and deadly.
Alexa’s face went pale. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. Casper backed away slowly, raising his hands in defense, as if the bullet might find him next.
Leonardo didn’t need to raise his voice. The silence he left after those words was louder than a scream. Every second it stretched, the fear in the room grew heavier.
Leonardo didn’t even blink at their pathetic excuses.
His gun was lowered now, but the threat still lingered in the air like static before a lightning strike.
Alexa clutched her robe tightly, her tears falling freely as she whimpered, "Leo... I’m sorry, okay? I thought she wouldn’t come back! She was out the whole day, and I just wanted to host a little party. That’s all... I didn’t think she’d return before morning..."
Casper stepped in hastily, trying to sound reasonable. "Yes, man, we’re sorry! You know us... We didn’t mean to hurt anyone. Alexa lied, yeah but Isabella really did drink. Accidentally! We thought it was just water too. Please, don’t blow this out of proportion..."
Leonardo’s stare flicked between them. The more they spoke, the more disgusted he looked.
Behind them, Alan and Zion entered the room freshly dressed, both stopping abruptly when they saw the scene—the shattered tile, Alexa trembling, Leonardo standing with the gun still loosely gripped in his hand.
Neither Alan nor Zion said a word. They exchanged a glance but knew better than to get involved. They had seen this version of Leonardo before—controlled, cold, and furious beneath the surface.
Leonardo finally broke the silence.
"If she hadn’t come back last night, would you have said she ran off? Or tell me she cheated?" His voice was low and dangerous.
Alexa opened her mouth but shut it just as fast, unable to answer.
Leonardo stepped forward slowly. "You lied, Alexa. And you humiliated my wife in my house. Don’t pretend it was a party. It was a circus you staged for your own amusement."
Before another word could be said—
BANG!
The front doors of the villa burst open with a loud crash, and everyone turned toward the sound. Heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, followed by the rapid clicking of heels.
"WHERE IS MY BABY!!!"
A fierce, commanding voice sliced through the silence. And then, striding into the room like a storm, came a tall woman with long, wavy dark hair cascading down her back. Her tan skin glowed under the soft lighting, and she wore a stunning fitted black dress paired with combat boots, of all things. Her presence screamed danger and elegance, and her aura silenced the entire room.