CHAPTER 48: CHAPTER 48 WHY IS HE LIKE THIS?

His brows twitched slightly.

"And when he laughed boing boing! His hair went like this!" Isabella mimicked Rumi’s hair bouncing with both her hands, and Jay burst out laughing again.

Leonardo stared.

The sight should’ve been nothing special. Just his wife chatting with his brother.

But something about the scene made his chest tighten slightly.

Why was she always this relaxed with Jay?

And... why was she smiling like that?

He didn’t say anything. Instead, he adjusted his sleeves and walked forward with his usual cool, heavy steps.

Jay noticed first. He turned and grinned. "Oh hey, look who finally remembered he lives here."

Isabella looked up and blinked. "Good morning!"

"...Morning," he said, voice low.

Isabella blinked, surprised when Leonardo actually replied to her "Good morning." He’d never responded so casually before. That alone made her suspicious.

Before she could think more about it, Leonardo spoke, voice low but firm. "Jay, I have something to discuss with you. Go to my office upstairs. There’s a file on the desk you need to check."

Jay raised a brow at the sudden shift in tone, but nodded. "Alright, boss." He stood up, dusted off crumbs from his shirt, and winked at Isabella. "See you later, strawberry chef."

Isabella giggled and waved at him.

Once Jay disappeared up the stairs, silence settled between her and Leonardo like a thick, invisible curtain.

She glanced at her phone, pretending to check something, and then slowly stood up. "I-I’ll just... go to my room," she mumbled, starting to walk away.

Leonardo didn’t say anything at first. His jaw was tight, his fingers tapped once against the table.

He watched her walk out of the room, her steps quick and quiet, almost like she was tiptoeing out of enemy territory.

His eyes narrowed.

"Coffee," he said to the maid nearby, voice clipped.

The maid nodded and hurried off, but Leonardo didn’t move. He continued staring at the empty spot where Isabella had just been sitting. His expression was unreadable, but his brows were drawn tight, and there was a faint shadow in his gaze.

She had smiled so easily with Jay.

But the moment he entered the room, she wanted to leave.

It irritated him.

***

The afternoon sunlight poured softly through the tall windows, casting golden hues across the floor.

Leonardo, who had been reviewing some documents in his study, heard soft strumming sounds floating in from the other side of the villa. It was guitar—gentle, halting notes, paired with a familiar soft voice occasionally humming along.

He didn’t think much of it at first. So she’s taking her guitar classes, he thought, emotionless.

But then came a second voice.

A male voice.

He stood up, shut his file, and walked out quietly, his footsteps silent on the marble floor.

As he reached the open archway leading to the sunroom, his eyes landed on the scene.

There she was Isabella, sitting cross-legged on a chair, her small fingers awkwardly positioned on a guitar, brow furrowed in deep concentration. Sitting opposite her was a man—tall, lean, attractive, with soft brown hair falling over his forehead, wearing a relaxed black shirt. His fingers gently guided hers on the strings, his voice calm and patient.

Leonardo’s eyes narrowed.

Without a word, he stepped inside and walked to the couch across from them, sitting down slowly. His expression was unreadable, posture poised like a man too composed for emotion but his cold gray eyes didn’t leave Isabella for a second.

Isabella, who had been trying to focus on the chord, suddenly tensed.

She felt his gaze–sharp, direct, and heavy.

Her fingers fumbled. The string made a twangy, off-pitch sound. She winced.

Theo, still unaware of the storm slowly brewing across from him, offered a soft smile. "Relax your body and try again," he said gently, "It’s okay to miss—you’re still learning."

Isabella tried her best to nod, but her body stiffened more under Leonardo’s eyes.

And Leonardo just... kept watching. Silent. Still. Like a shadow in a perfectly ironed shirt.

He didn’t say a word.

Theo, casually tuning one of the guitar strings, finally looked up and gave Leonardo a relaxed smile completely unfazed.

"Oh, you’re here," he said, like greeting a neighbor instead of the most feared mafia boss in the city.

Isabella nearly choked on air.

Her eyes widened as she looked between Theo and Leonardo, her heart starting to pound. Why was he talking so casually?! Didn’t he see the storm cloud sitting across from them?!

In a panic, she subtly kicked Theo’s foot under the table, her eyes begging him to stop.

Theo blinked and glanced at her for a moment then just smiled wider and turned his attention back to Leonardo.

Leonardo didn’t react at first. He sat there, one leg crossed over the other, elbow resting on the armrest, fingertips tapping once...just once against his knee.

His cold eyes flicked from Theo’s face to Isabella’s fidgeting fingers still awkwardly placed on the guitar.

"...Continue," he said, his voice calm but clipped, like a blade sheathed under velvet.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "You want to watch her play?"

Leonardo didn’t respond. He didn’t need to.

Theo smiled again. "Alright," he said, turning back to Isabella. "From the top. Let’s impress the audience."

Isabella gave him a look that screamed: You’re dead. We’re both dead.

She picked up the guitar again, her hands trembling slightly, and tried to play... all while Leonardo watched in silence, every note weighed under his gaze.

Isabella tried.

She really did.

Her fingers moved carefully across the strings, pressing the chords Theo had taught her just minutes ago. The tune should have sounded soft and mellow, but instead, it came out stiff like her body. Her hands were trembling, her posture rigid, and her strumming uneven.

The reason was Leonardo.

He sat across the room, expression carved from stone, his gray eyes fixed on her with unnerving stillness. Not a single blink. Not a single flicker of approval or criticism. Just that cold, unreadable gaze that made her feel like she was performing heart surgery, not playing a beginner guitar song.

Her big brown eyes, wide and anxious, kept glancing at him. Every time she looked up, his eyes were already on her watching and studying her every move.

Why is he like this? she thought helplessly, her cheeks puffing in frustration.

She missed a chord again.

Theo gently tapped her hand with his pencil. "Relax. Your fingers are stiff, Bella. And your rhythm is running away from you."

She nodded quickly, biting her lip. "S-sorry."

Theo chuckled warmly. "You’re playing like you’re about to face a firing squad."

Her fingers slipped again.

She didn’t say it out loud, but... That’s exactly what it feels like.

Leonardo didn’t speak. He didn’t move. He didn’t even blink just sat there with the same emotionless face as if judging her soul with every wrong note.

To him, maybe she was just a girl pretending to be part of his world. But to her, he was the scariest audience she’d ever faced.

She knew she was playing badly.

Her fingers were stiff. Her shoulders were tense. Every time she glanced at Leonardo’s cold face, her mind froze.

But she didn’t want to give up. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes gently, and imagined it wasn’t Leonardo sitting there with his intense mafia gaze. No, she imagined her grandmother instead—soft eyes, warm smile, clapping her hands even when Isabella played the wrong notes.

With that image in her mind, her breathing steadied. Her fingers moved more naturally, and the tune came out soft, slow... but gentle. Real.

When she finished, Theo clapped softly. "Great. That’s what I was talking about," he said with a proud smile.

Before she could respond, she noticed movement in the corner of her eye—Leonardo stood up. He stared at her for a moment, his gaze unreadable as always.

"You’re coming with me to the auction tonight," he said flatly, and without another word, he turned and walked upstairs.

Just like that.

Gone.

Theo turned to her with a teasing look in his eyes, resting his chin in his palm. "He’s your husband. Why are you so scared of him?" he asked casually, as if they were discussing a school project.

Isabella froze. Her eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights. She didn’t answer right away, but then remembered that staying silent might seem rude.

"S-Scared of his gun," she mumbled quickly, clutching her guitar to her chest like a shield.

Theo burst out laughing.

"Fair enough," he grinned. "But I don’t think it’s the gun you’re scared of."

She looked at him, confused. "Huh?"

"Never mind," he smirked. "Go get ready for your mafia husband."

Theo left whistling down the hall, completely carefree, while Isabella remained rooted in place, staring at the doorway Leonardo had disappeared through.

She sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the chair and hugging her guitar like it was her only emotional support. "Why does he always have to show up and ruin my peaceful schedule?"

She muttered under her breath, "I’d rather stay home and bake cupcakes... or debug a corrupt firewall... or cuddle with Moonbeam and Berry."

But then she remembered—

Last time she refused to go with him, he threatened to burn her stuffed animals.

Her eyes widened as she clutched her chest. "Not again... I can’t risk Moonbeam’s safety..."

With great reluctance, she stood up. Her feet dragged as if she was walking toward her doom.