CHAPTER 200: CHAPTER 200 WICKED IDEA

The streetlights kept flashing past, bathing the car in soft golds and shadows, and every time they passed through the dark, it felt like their own little world. His hand, still resting at her waist, would tighten ever so slightly when the car took a turn, as if he was afraid she might slip away.

Bella told herself he was drunk. That was all. But the way he sighed contentedly, like she was exactly where he wanted her, made her wonder if it was really just that.

When the driver announced they had arrived, she gently tried to ease him off, but his hold only grew firmer. "Leo..." she whispered, cheeks burning.

He didn’t open his eyes. "Home," he murmured, voice low and certain. "With you."

And somehow, she didn’t have the heart to tell him to let go.

Finally, she helped him out of the car, one arm looped around his waist while his much larger frame leaned heavily on her. He wasn’t fully asleep, just in that stubborn half-conscious state where he wouldn’t walk unless she urged him. The bodyguards at the entrance gave her a brief glance, their faces unreadable as they nodded in acknowledgment. Not one of them moved to help, and Bella frowned in disbelief. Were they just going to stand there? Still, she tightened her grip and started guiding him toward the stairs.

By the time she got him to the first floor, her legs were trembling from the effort. There was no way she was dragging him up another two floors to his own room. Huffing softly, she pushed open the door to her own and led him inside.

"Okay, you... here," she mumbled, easing him down onto her bed. He landed on his side without hesitation, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and before she could step back, he reached out and grabbed Snowball — her fluffy seal plushie — pulling it into his arms.

Bella froze, blinking at the sight. He was hugging it. Hugging it.

Her jaw dropped. This was the same man who had once threatened to burn her plushies and now here he was, cuddling one like it was his most treasured possession. "Unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, puffing her cheeks in silent outrage. "Really bad man."

Shaking her head, she padded over to her wardrobe to grab her soft pink pajamas — the fluffy kind, with a big embroidered kitty face on the top and matching bottoms. She didn’t think much of it, slipping into the bathroom to take a warm bubble bath. The hot water chased away the ache in her muscles, and soon she emerged feeling soft, clean, and faintly fragrant.

She climbed onto her side of the bed, switching off the main lights so only the warm glow of her bedside lamp remained. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him shift, turning to face her. Ignoring it, she grabbed two pillows and placed them between them like a makeshift barrier.

"There," she whispered to herself, shutting her eyes.

But she didn’t see the way his lashes lifted, the faint gleam of awareness in his gaze as he studied her in the dim light. His expression softened first but when his eyes fell on the pillow wall, the warmth disappeared, replaced by a faint, possessive chill.

One by one, he pulled the pillows away, tossing them behind him without the slightest hesitation.

Then he shifted closer, the mattress dipping under his weight. He told himself it was just because the bed was cold on his side... but the truth was, he liked having her near him. She smelled sweet, like strawberries and something softer he couldn’t quite name. His gaze lingered on the way her pink pajamas clung softly to her small frame, the kitty face looking absurdly adorable on her.

Carefully, almost cautiously, he slipped an arm around her waist and pulled her into his chest.

She made a small, sleepy sound, her body relaxing instantly as she rolled against him, her head rubbing lightly against his shirt like a kitten seeking warmth. His grip tightened ever so slightly, and he let his chin rest against her hair.

Yes... she was very soft to hold.

***

Next morning...

The soft rays of sunlight slipped through the curtains, catching in the strands of Bella’s hair where it spilled across the pillow. Leo stirred first, his sharp senses picking up faint footsteps and voices outside her room. His eyes narrowed instantly.

He turned his head to look at the little bunny sleeping beside him — not an actual bunny, but Bella herself, curled into the covers with her small hands tucked near her face. Her breathing was soft and even, lips parted just slightly. She looked so defenseless that it did something dangerous to his chest.

Slowly, his gaze slid to the door, then back to her. A slow, wicked idea formed.

He unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt, letting the crisp fabric fall open enough to show his collarbone and the top of his chest. His eyes gleamed as he glanced at his neatly clipped nails... and then at hers. Small, sharp little things. Perfect.

Gently, without waking her, he took her hand and guided it to his neck, dragging just enough for her nails to leave faint red marks across his skin. A tiny hiss escaped him — more from the thrill of the thought than the sting. Satisfied with his handiwork, he let go of her hand and messed up his hair until it looked like someone had been running their fingers through it all night.

When the footsteps stopped right outside, he smirked. Time to play.

He strode to the door and swung it open. Sure enough, it was Jace and his little brother, standing there like they had every right to be outside her room. Both froze instantly, eyes darting from his disheveled hair to his open shirt... and then to the unmistakable red scratch marks along his neck.

"My wife is sleeping," Leo drawled, his voice smooth but loaded with quiet dominance. "Maybe both of you come later."

He rubbed the side of his neck, wincing just slightly as if it still hurt. That small, deliberate movement made their gazes snap to the marks again, and this time Jay’s jaw nearly hit the floor while Jace’s mouth dropped open in disbelief.