CHAPTER 223: CHAPTER 223 CONCERN

Since it was only a shadow server, Bella had thought it was easy practice—though the real server would demand more time and effort. She typed out a few more lines of code, biting her lip as the hydra began to coil into place on the screen.

"Bella?"

Her whole body stiffened. Her eyes widened in panic as she snapped her head up and there he was.

Leonardo.

He was standing right behind her, his tall frame was outlined by the warm light of the room. Heart hammering, she fumbled to close the browser tab before snapping the laptop shut.

"W-when did you come back?" she stammered, her wide eyes fixed on him. "And why don’t you ever make a sound when you walk?!" Her voice rose an octave, too high, too defensive.

Leo’s brows furrowed as he crossed the room with measured steps, his presence heavy. "Bella," he said slowly, his tone sharper than usual. "What are you doing?" His gaze lingered on the laptop she’d just hidden away. He could’ve sworn he’d seen the flash of a dark interface, something alien to ordinary work, before she snapped it shut. But it had been too quick.

Bella swallowed hard. Her heart hammered against her ribs.

"It’s... it’s 8 PM, Bella. And you’re in my room," Leo said, his voice low but edged with displeasure. His gray eyes narrowed, scanning her face as though searching for cracks in her expression.

She blinked rapidly, realizing with a jolt that she had lost track of time. Hours had melted away without her noticing. Her lips parted, but no excuse came.

Leo sighed through his nose, running a hand through his hair as he walked toward the wardrobe. His shoulders were stiff, his voice firm. "Bella, it’s not good to be glued to that laptop all the time. You’ll ruin your eyes."

His words came out more like a reprimand, but beneath the sternness was something else—concern

.

Bella sat frozen on the bed, her gaze darting between him and her closed laptop. He didn’t see... right? He couldn’t have seen...

With her heart hammering against her ribs, Bella hugged her laptop like a shield. "I’m just getting water," she mumbled, edging past him. After abandoning the laptop on the coffee table, she hurried from the room, the soft, frantic shuffle of her slippers echoing in the hallway.

Leo watched her go, his brows furrowed. Something about the way she looked... the way her hands shook a little, the nervous light in her eyes—it stayed in his mind even as she disappeared.

Later, after his shower, steam still clinging to his hair, he stepped back into the bedroom with only a towel draped around his neck. The room was quiet, Bella nowhere in sight.

His sharp gaze swept the space, and that was when he noticed it—her laptop, sitting on the coffee table where she had left it.

For a moment, his eyes narrowed. He remembered the flicker of a dark screen before she had slammed it shut.

***

Dinner passed in unusual silence. The clinking of silverware against porcelain was the only sound filling the grand dining room. Bella sat straight-backed, her hands folded neatly in her lap, but Leo wasn’t blind. He saw the way her eyes didn’t meet his, the way her fingers fidgeted slightly under the tablecloth, and how every time his gaze lingered on her, she shifted uncomfortably in her chair.

She was nervous. Stiff. Almost like she was hiding something.

Leo’s jaw tightened as he cut into his steak, pretending not to notice. If she thought she could hide something from him, he would let her—for now.

When dinner ended, Bella escaped quickly, almost too quickly. She padded into the living room, plopped onto the sofa, and flicked on the television. The glow of the screen lit up her soft features as she curled her legs under herself, hugging a cushion for comfort.

Leo followed her with his eyes as he set down his napkin. He was about to say something when he caught sight of the movie playing. His brows lifted slightly—some overly dramatic, cheesy romance film where the hero was professing eternal love in the rain.

Bella was watching it with wide eyes, cheeks faintly pink, as though she was actually living in that scene.

A muscle ticked in Leo’s jaw. He said nothing, though, and turned away. He wouldn’t make a scene over it.

Without a word, he rose from his seat and headed upstairs. His footsteps were steady, his expression unreadable.

By the time he reached the third floor, his phone was already in his hand. He stepped into his study, shut the door, and leaned back against the desk as he scrolled to a number.

When the line connected, his voice was deep, clipped, and commanding. "I need...."

***

10:30 p.m.

Leo came down the stairs, his steps heavy, the dim light from the chandelier catching the sharp lines of his jaw. He paused at the bottom, and his gray eyes narrowed faintly when he saw her still curled up on the sofa, eyes glued to the television.

He almost rolled his eyes. Still watching?

But then he noticed the way her little nose was red, her lashes damp, her lips trembling just a little. On the screen, a funeral scene was playing, everyone crying under pouring rain. He exhaled quietly through his nose, his expression unreadable.

"Bella," he called, his deep voice pulling her out of the screen.

She turned to him slowly, her face soft and wet from tears. "Hmm??" she muttered, trying to blink the movie away.

For a second, he just stared at her—messy hair, red-rimmed eyes, clutching a pillow to her chest as though she needed something to hold onto. His chest tightened unexpectedly. He clenched his jaw and straightened.

"I’m going to meet my friends," he said, his tone flat but quieter than usual.

Bella blinked at him, startled. He never told her where he was going. Never bothered to share what he was doing. But now... he was telling her?

"O-okay," she said softly, her voice small, as though she wasn’t sure how to respond.

Leo gave a small nod, but his eyes lingered on her for a second longer, scanning her face, memorizing the faint pout of her lips. Then, without another word, he turned and walked toward the door, his tall figure disappearing into the night.

Bella hugged her pillow tighter, her chest warm with a strange, unexplainable feeling.