Chapter 58: Chapter 58 Scared of him
Next morning...
Isabella slowly blinked open her eyes, her vision a bit blurry from the brightness seeping through the curtains. A dull, familiar ache pulsed in her shoulder. She wasn’t surprised—pain had always been part of her waking routine for as long as she could remember. But this one felt different. Deeper. Sharper.
She turned her face slightly and frowned. The ceiling was unfamiliar.
Then it all came back at once.
The auction... the car... the gunshot... Leo’s cold words... and—
The sniper.
Her heart skipped, and she quickly tried to sit up but winced as her arm throbbed sharply. She looked down and finally noticed the soft fabric covering her. She was wearing loose, oversized clothes definitely not hers. The sleeves nearly swallowed her hands.
Her lips trembled slightly. Someone must’ve changed her clothes. She didn’t remember anything after falling... was she unconscious the whole time?
Her hand slowly moved to her shoulder, feeling the bandages through the shirt. Her eyes burned but she didn’t let the tears fall. Not yet.
The door was closed.
The room was quiet.
And even though she was safe... she’d never felt more unsure about what "safe" really meant.
She bit her lower lip gently and whispered to herself, "Why does he make me feel warm and unwanted at the same time?"
As she tried to get up again, her gaze fell on something placed neatly on the table beside her.
The ring.
The same Ring of Light she had wanted so badly.
Her eyes widened, and for a second, her breath hitched. He brought it here?
She reached out with her good hand, carefully picking up the small velvet box and opening it.
The ring sparkled under the morning light... still beautiful...
A soft, innocent smile bloomed on Isabella’s face—so pure, so full of emotion, like a delicate flower opening under the morning sun. Her eyes shimmered with gentle warmth as she looked at the ring cradled in her palm, her heart beating a little faster from joy.
Her face was bare now. Someone had removed her makeup while she was unconscious, and yet, she looked even more beautiful in that simplicity. Her skin was pale and soft, her cheeks lightly flushed from sleep, and her long lashes fluttered as she blinked slowly, holding back the sting in her eyes.
She looked like a quiet, blooming rose in early spring.
Isabella hugged the ring gently to her chest, like it was something sacred.
When Leonardo opened the door, the first thing he saw was her—Isabella sitting up in bed, her delicate arms wrapped around the ring like it was the most precious thing in her world. The morning light slipped through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across her bare face. She looked small... and fragile... like something that would vanish if touched too harshly.
A quiet breath escaped his lips. Good decision, he thought. He didn’t know why, but something inside him felt a little lighter seeing her smile like that, even if it was faint.
He stepped into the room slowly, his tall frame casting a shadow across the floor.
"Bella..." he called her name gently, softer than he had ever used before.
But the moment his voice reached her ears, she froze.
Isabella’s body stiffened, and the joy on her face faded almost instantly. Her wide eyes filled with fear. She clutched the ring tighter and turned her face slightly away, like she was preparing herself for a storm. That old habit of shrinking inwards when scared, she did that now too. Her fingers gripped the bedsheet like a child trying to hold on to something solid.
Leonardo’s eyes narrowed, and a frown slowly settled on his face. His chest tightened as he watched her reaction. He could see it clearly...she was scared of him.
Was it really that bad...? he thought to himself.
He opened his mouth to say something... to ask what’s wrong... but stopped.
No, he told himself. Don’t ask.
Maybe he already knew the answer. Maybe he was the answer.
And so, he simply stood there, silent... watching her shrink into herself like a wilted flower, and for the first time in a long while, Leonardo felt something uncomfortable stir in his chest.
Regret.
"How are you?" Leonardo asked, his voice softer than usual as he walked closer to the bed.
Isabella turned her head and looked at him, her eyes wide but silent.
He didn’t push her to answer. Instead, he reached for the water jug beside her bed, poured some into the glass, and then held it out for her.
She didn’t move.
Leonardo watched her carefully. Her hands were tucked under the blanket like she didn’t want to come out at all.
"Do you want me to help you drink?" he asked, sitting gently on the edge of her bed.
She wanted to say no, but the words wouldn’t come out. Her throat felt tight. She just stared at the glass, and her lips barely parted, as if trying to speak but nothing came out. Her silence made him think she was saying yes.
So, he leaned forward and brought the glass near her lips.
But the moment it got close... Isabella flinched hard, as if the glass was a weapon and not something harmless. She quickly turned her face away, and her shoulder pressed into the pillow.
Startled, Leonardo’s hand jerked, and the glass slipped from his grip. It rolled down the blanket and hit the edge of the bed, falling to the ground with a sharp crack before shattering into pieces.
Water splashed, and for a moment, everything went quiet.
Isabella trembled under the blanket, her eyes tightly shut, her breathing fast and uneven.
Leonardo stared at her—completely stunned.
She was scared of him.
Her entire body was tense, her fingers gripping the sheet like she was protecting herself from something. Her long lashes were wet with tears she wasn’t letting fall, and her face had turned pale, as if she expected to be yelled at or worse.
Leonardo slowly stood up, his face unreadable.
He didn’t say anything for a few seconds, then finally spoke in a voice that was cold, but not angry.
"...Don’t move. I’ll call someone to clean this up."
He turned toward the door.