CHAPTER 397: CHAPTER 397 YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE

Her knees gave out, and she barely caught herself on the railing, eyes wide and unblinking, her heart pounding so loudly she could hear nothing else.

She had never seen anything like this.

She had never seen him like this.

And the dreadful realization that Leo, her Leo, the man who kissed her cheeks and adjusted her blanket and held her so carefully... was capable of this shook her soul to its core.

"Your hands," Leo whispered near her uncle’s ear, his voice low and chilling, "hurt so many people."

His fingers slid down the man’s trembling arm, tracing each bone with slow, unhurried intimacy. "So it is fitting that they suffer first."

He pressed the tool down again, not with brute force but with steady, merciless pressure that made the man’s breath break into choked, broken gasps. Bella could not see the exact damage. She could only see the way Leo’s wrist twisted, the tension in his forearm, the way her uncle’s fingers spasmed uncontrollably as agony tore through him.

The air filled with breathless, helpless suffering.

And Bella stood frozen, her soul twisting painfully, unable to look away.

Leo’s eyes narrowed in concentration, his jaw tight, his shoulders broad and unshaken. There was a strange, dark grace in the way he moved, every shift of his hand smooth, every press of his thumb practiced, every tilt of his head almost sensual in its coldness. It wasn’t just torture. It was art to him.

Bella felt her skin heat with a confusing mix of fear and shock and something she couldn’t name, because even in this darkness, even in this brutality, Leo looked breathtaking. His broad shoulders bent over the chair, the powerful line of his back tense beneath his shirt, his voice low and steady as he whispered threats with the same tone he used while calling her bunny. The orange light washed over him, casting shadow across his face, highlighting the dangerous beauty of his features.

She couldn’t look away.

She wanted to.

Her body begged her to.

But her eyes remained locked on him, drawn by a force stronger than fear.

Leo’s hand slid beneath her uncle’s palm, almost gentle, as he spoke again, voice deep, warm, dangerous. "You hurt her. You touched what’s mine." His thumb stroked the trembling knuckles with eerie tenderness. "And these hands, these filthy hands, will never hurt her again."

Bella swallowed hard. Her uncle whimpered, head falling forward as Leo tilted his chin back with a single gloved finger, forcing him to look up at him like a king judging a criminal.

Leo leaned in close, his breath brushing the man’s ear in a whisper so soft Bella barely heard it.

"Next time you scream," he murmured, "remember it’s just beginning."

Her uncle sobbed, not loudly but in small, pathetic gasps.

Leo straightened up slowly, chest rising with a calm breath, as if he had just finished a workout. His gloves were stained. His heartbeat hadn’t sped up even once. He wiped the tool on a cloth, expression unreadable, and reached for something else on the tray beside him.

Bella stepped backward without meaning to, a tiny gasp escaping her throat.

Leo froze.

The tool slipped from his fingers.

He turned slowly until his eyes found hers in the dim light. And the moment their gazes met, his entire world seemed to collapse.

Bella’s breath stuttered the moment Leo turned and saw her.

For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. His eyes widened, raw shock first, then something far more terrifying settled there. Fear.

"Bella?" he whispered, as if he wasn’t sure she was real.

The metal tools clattered from his hand and hit the floor with a sharp echo. Her uncle, tied and trembling in the chair, whimpered at the sound, but Leo didn’t spare him even a glance now. His entire body angled toward her instead.

He stepped forward slowly, cautiously, like he was approaching a wounded creature afraid of being touched.

"Bunny." His voice cracked. "You shouldn’t be here."

Bella couldn’t speak.

She couldn’t look away from the blood on his gloves.

Her throat tightened, and her fingers shook against her chest.

The moment Leo saw that trembling, something inside him snapped.

He closed the distance in two long strides, not fast, not rough, just urgent, and gently cupped her face with both palms, forgetting completely about the blood on them until he saw the faint smear on her cheek.

His hand jerked back as if the stain had burned him.

"Don’t look at that," he said, breath shaking. He ripped the gloves off with frantic movements, threw them aside, and wiped his hands on the cloth hanging near the metal table until nothing remained. Only when he was sure not a single trace of blood was left on him did he touch her again.

He grabbed her shoulders, firm but careful.

"Come with me," he murmured.

He didn’t drag her. He simply guided her gently, placing his body between hers and the horrible sight behind them as he walked her to the stairs.

Behind them, his men stood frozen in silence. One of them stepped forward immediately when Leo flicked a cold, murderous glance.

"Move him. Now," Leo ordered, voice like steel. "And clean everything."

Bella heard the chains rattle behind her as they obeyed, and her knees almost gave out. Leo’s hand tightened protectively around her arm, steadying her.

Up the stairs.

Through the narrow passage.

Into the study.

Into the warm light that felt too soft compared to everything she had just seen.

Only then did he release her hand.

Only then did he pull the door shut behind them, his breath coming too fast, too uneven.

"Leo..." Bella whispered.

He didn’t respond.

His steps were stiff, almost mechanical, as he led her into their bedroom, his fingers cold, his jaw tight. He didn’t push her away, but he didn’t look at her either.

He closed the door softly, not slamming it, then stood with his back to her.

"Leo," she tried again, her voice breaking slightly.

"Don’t." His whisper was hoarse, trembling. "Not yet."