CHAPTER 338: CHAPTER 338 ⁠♡

The light turned green, and he pressed his foot on the pedal just hard enough to make the car surge forward faster than necessary. Bella grabbed the seatbelt instinctively.

"Leo..." she said quietly.

He exhaled through his nose, forcing his grip to loosen on the wheel. The tension in his shoulders remained, though; every inch of him looked sculpted in anger. But it wasn’t mindless rage. It was something darker, heavier, possessive.

When he finally spoke again, his voice was quieter but so much deeper it made her heart tremble. "You don’t know what it does to me," he murmured, his gaze locked on the road. "Hearing them say those things about you." He didn’t like the fact another man had spoken about Bella in that way. She was his wife, lawfully.

Bella turned to him slowly. His tone wasn’t cold anymore—it was low, dangerous, and unbearably intimate.

"I know they’re your friends," he said, glancing at her just long enough to make her pulse quicken, "but, Bella, if they ever cross that line again, I won’t stop myself next time."

The words weren’t shouted. They were whispered, yet they carried the intensity of a powerful threat and a dangerous kind of heat.

Bella could only nod, her voice too soft to come out. The air in the car was thick with tension, desire, and an unspoken fear that made her chest flutter.

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When they reached home, Bella ran upstairs, her heart racing. She didn’t even know why she was running, maybe because the air around Leo felt too heavy, too dangerous, too magnetic.

Downstairs, Leo’s chest burned. Alan liked Bella. Dominic liked Bella. Even Jay cared for her, and Scarlett was always by her side. Everyone liked Bella—his Bella. The thought made his pulse thunder. His grip on the railing tightened as he went up after her, his steps slow, deliberate, and filled with the kind of tension that could shatter silence.

"Phew..." Bella whispered to herself when she reached their room. "Leo’s being scary... but I get it. If another girl said she wanted to marry my husband, I’d feel upset too." She sighed softly, rubbing her temple.

But the moment the door opened again, her breath caught. His presence filled the room before he even said a word, that quiet, commanding aura that made her heart flutter and her legs weak.

"I... I’m going to change," she said quickly, turning to leave, but before she could take another step, a hand caught her wrist.

Her breath hitched.

He didn’t pull hard, just enough to stop her. The dim light from the lamp traced his sharp jawline, his shadow falling over her like a storm cloud. She looked up at him and froze. His eyes were darker than before, deep and unreadable, but beneath that coldness, there was something else—something that made her heartbeat stumble.

And before she could understand what was happening, he moved.

Her back met the wall, but gently, his hand already braced behind her head to protect her from the impact. His scent—faint cologne and warmth—wrapped around her like a spell. His voice brushed against her skin when he spoke, low and rough.

"I’m sorry, Bella," he whispered. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

The softness in his tone caught her off guard. Her lips parted slightly as she looked into his eyes. He looked almost human in that moment, the dangerous man who could silence an entire room now speaking to her like she was made of glass.

She nodded, still unable to form words.

"But," his voice deepened, softer but heavier, "what I’m going to do next... I’m not sorry for that."

Before she could breathe, his lips hovered near hers, close enough that she could feel his warmth but not close enough to taste.

Her pulse skipped. His fingers traced her cheek, sliding gently down to her jaw, his thumb brushing the corner of her trembling lips.

"Can I kiss you, Isabella?" he asked quietly, his thumb pressing lightly against her lips.

She blinked, stunned by the way he said her name—slow, reverent, like a prayer. Her heart pounded painfully in her chest.

She looked up at him, her lashes fluttering as her chest rose and fell unevenly. "I... okay," she whispered.

He smiled faintly, the kind of smile that reached his eyes for just a second before he leaned closer and kissed her—a soft, hesitant touch that made her forget how to breathe.

The first touch was gentle, almost cautious, like he was afraid to break her. Their lips met, warm and uncertain, sending a rush of heat down her spine. She forgot how to breathe for a moment. He pulled back slightly, searching her face, and when he saw the quiet daze in her eyes, he kissed her again, slower and deeper this time.

Her fingers tightened unconsciously in the fabric of his shirt, the soft material bunching between her trembling hands as if that thin layer was the only thing keeping her grounded. His heartbeat thudded hard and steady beneath her palms, matching the wild rhythm pounding inside her own chest.

Leo tilted her chin up, his thumb brushing the corner of her mouth, and the small gesture made her shiver. For a heartbeat, their eyes met—hers wide and uncertain, his dark and intent, holding her there as though memorizing every detail of her face. Then, without warning, his lips descended on hers again.

The kiss was not gentle this time. It was deep and intense, filled with the hunger he had tried to hide for too long. His hand slid upward, fingers threading through her hair as he pulled her closer, his body pressing her softly against the wall. She gasped against his mouth, but the sound was swallowed when he kissed her again, slower, rougher, the world shrinking to the taste of him and the heat curling through her veins.

Her knees weakened under the weight of the moment, and she clutched him tighter, her fingers curling around his collar as though afraid he might slip away. His thumb traced the curve of her jaw, guiding her lips open a little more, deepening the kiss until their breaths tangled, uneven and desperate. Every brush of his mouth carried a mix of restraint and longing, the perfect balance between tenderness and the raw pull of desire.

When he finally pulled back, their lips still grazed, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. His forehead rested against hers, his voice rough when he spoke, almost a whisper.

"Bella..."