"The one bullying Bellatrix_019," Scarlett snapped.
His fingers froze around the wine glass. Slowly, he set it down and sat up. His voice was calm but cold now. "Someone touched her?"
"Yes. That influencer cockroach—Alexa. Ever heard of her?"
"No," he said flatly, already reaching for his laptop from the compartment beside his sunbed. "But I will."
Scarlett grinned from the other end. "I knew you’d be interested. She messed with the softest hacker on the planet. You know what that means, right?"
BlackKnight’s fingers danced across his keyboard, pulling up information in mere seconds. His lips curled into a dangerous smile.
"It means... it’s open season."
***
Leonardo knocked on her bedroom door again, firmer this time. "Bella," he called out, his voice low but impatient. "Open the door."
Inside, Isabella sat on her bed, arms wrapped around her knees. She didn’t want to open the door. Not after dinner. Not after he said those things about scar. Not after he sided with Alexa. He was a bad guy.
"No!" she shouted, louder this time.
Silence followed. For a second, her heart fluttered with hope. Did he go away?
She leaned forward, listening closely.
Then—
"Bella," his voice came again, slower, almost amused. "Open the door. Or I’ll tell the maid to burn your toys."
Her eyes flew wide open. "You wouldn’t!" she gasped.
She hadn’t even brought Moonbeam and Berry on this trip—those two were safely back home. But the way Leonardo said it, with that awful smirk she could practically hear through the door, made her paranoid enough to jump to her feet.
She stomped toward the door and yanked it open. "What!" she snapped.
Leonardo stood there, arms crossed, looking far too amused for someone threatening plushies. But his smirk faltered just a bit when he looked at her.
Because even though she tried to sound angry, she looked like a little bunny who’d just had her favorite carrot taken away. Her cheeks were puffed in frustration, her lower lip jutted out in a soft pout, and her eyes—still a bit red from crying earlier were now glaring up at him with stormy defiance.
He tilted his head, watching her with mild fascination. "You look like you’re going to bite me."
"I might," she huffed.
"I doubt it." He leaned casually against the doorframe. "You look more like you’d throw a cushion at me and then hide under the blanket."
Isabella’s face turned red. "You’re so annoying! I don’t want to talk to you!"
"Well, we’re talking now."
She tried to slam the door back, but he stepped inside before she could, gently shutting it behind him.
She backed up. "You can’t just come in like that."
"I can. It’s my house."
"It’s my room!"
He raised an eyebrow. "And?"
"And you’re being mean!"
He sighed, letting his arms drop as he walked a little closer. "Look... I didn’t come to fight."
"Then why did you say those things?" she asked, voice trembling. "Why did you agree with her? Why did you make me feel like I was wrong?"
Leonardo ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking less smug. "Because I didn’t like your friend."
"Scarlett came all the way for me. She helped me. She was there when I was sad. You weren’t."
He winced slightly at her words. "You didn’t tell me you were upset."
"You didn’t ask!"
He sighed again, looking away for a second. "I didn’t mean to hurt you."
"You did," she said, quieter now. "You always act like I’m small and clueless and don’t know anything... like I’m not worth defending."
He looked at her slowly. And maybe—just maybe—there was guilt in his eyes now.
"That’s not true," he said.
She blinked.
"You’re a headache," he said, stepping closer. "You’re stubborn and childish. But you’re not clueless. And I never said you weren’t worth defending."
She opened her mouth to argue but nothing came out.
He gently reached out and touched the top of her head. "I was wrong."
Her breath caught.
Isabella looked up at him, still hugging herself. "Then stop siding with her," she whispered. "Even if you don’t like Scarlett, she was kind to me."
Leonardo’s expression darkened just slightly at the mention of Scarlett, but he nodded. "Alright. I won’t say anything next time."
She stared at him for another long moment. "Don’t threaten my toys again either."
He chuckled. "Fine."
She turned away to sit on the edge of her bed, pouting still. "You make me feel like crying."
Leonardo stood quietly for a moment. Then he slowly walked over and sat beside her, not too close. "I’ll try not to next time."
After a beat of silence, Isabella peeked at him from the corner of her eye. "Really?"
He nodded. "Yeah."
"...Even if I throw a cushion?"
He smirked. "Then I’ll throw one back."
She giggled, a tiny sound, and he glanced at her.
"Are we done fighting?" he asked.
She shrugged. "Maybe."
But she didn’t ask him to leave and he didn’t move either.
It was the first time they had a comfortable conversation. No shouting, no awkward silence, no walking away. Just soft voices and hesitant truths. And for some reason, Leonardo found himself... enjoying it.
He wasn’t used to this—this quiet warmth in the air, this way she looked at him with those soft brown eyes like she was trying to read his thoughts.
He didn’t even realize he was smiling faintly until—
"Hey," Bella called gently, tilting her head.
"Yes?" he turned toward her, and his expression was softer now.
She hesitated. "Can Scarlett stay with me for a few days?"
Leonardo’s brows furrowed immediately. "No. She’s too loud."
Bella blinked. "What?"
"She’ll turn you into her. Look at you—just one day with her and you’re already acting like a brat," he said sharply, his cold gaze returning like a sudden slap.
Bella stared at him, stunned.
And then something inside her snapped.
"Go away," she said firmly, voice trembling but eyes fierce.
"What?" he asked, frowning.
"Get out!" she yelled, standing up and pointing to the door. "You never change! You always ruin things!"
He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, she stormed over and pushed him—hard—out of the room.
The door slammed in his face.
Leonardo stood there, blinking in shock.