CHAPTER 237: CHAPTER 237 PEOPLE ARE THINKING WRONG

The silence on the other end thickened, making Jay’s grin falter. Then Leo spoke, slow and sharp. "Careful, Jay. You should know when to stop running your mouth."

Jay swallowed audibly, holding the phone away from his ear for a second. "Alright, alright! I was just teasing. No need to go full executioner mode on me."

Leo didn’t bother with a reply, only exhaled once, heavy with warning.

Jay muttered quickly, "Still scary as hell, even on the phone..." before cutting the call with a nervous laugh.

***

Leo was in a bad mood after what had happened. The memory of last night’s encounter with the intruder, the endless reports from his men, and the looming pressure of his grandmother’s arrival clawed restlessly at his mind.

But the moment he sat down at the dining table and saw Bella sitting there with her cheeks as red as ripe apples, his lips curved despite himself.

"It’s barely late morning, and you’re already sitting here looking like a blushing apple," he drawled, his gray eyes glinting with amusement. "What’s got you so red?"

Bella gasped, her eyes widening as she turned to glare at him. "Shsh! Don’t say it out loud—it’s because of you!" she whispered furiously. "People are thinking wrong!"

Leo raised one dark brow, leaning an elbow on the table as his lips quirked in a slow smile. "And what exactly are people thinking?" he asked, his deep voice teasing, though he genuinely looked curious.

She puffed her cheeks, her big doe eyes going comically wide. "Because you held me for so long, and we came out of the room late, now everyone thinks something... happened between us!" she blurted, her face turning even redder.

Leo’s amusement deepened, and he leaned closer, his lips brushing dangerously near her ear. His breath was warm against her skin, making her shiver. "We’re husband and wife, Bella," he whispered smoothly, "and it’s not surprising if people think you and I had se—"

Her eyes nearly popped out of her head, and before he could finish, Bella slapped her palm over his mouth, glaring at him with a mixture of shock and embarrassment. "Don’t use bad words!" she hissed, her voice trembling as much from fluster as from anger.

Pulling her hand down slowly, Leo chuckled low in his chest, his eyes glistening with mischief. "Bad word? How is that a bad word, Bella? That’s the most natural thing between a man and his wife." He paused, his gaze sharp with teasing. "What about you? You curse me in my own mother language whenever you want."

Bella crossed her arms smugly, her lips curving with defiance. "Yes, and I’ll do it again. Ciao, bellissssimoo."

Something flickered in his eyes—pride, hunger, and satisfaction all tangled together. He leaned back slightly, watching her with that heated stare that always made her want to hide her face. "Don’t call me that again," he said, though his voice was low and rough, as if daring her.

Bella tilted her chin up proudly, her honey-brown eyes twinkling with mischief. "Ciao, bellissimo," she repeated, sweetly and stubbornly.

Leo clenched his jaw, turning away before she noticed the way his ears burned red. He ignored her deliberately, his lips twitching as if he was fighting a smile.

Just then, the maids arrived with their trays, setting breakfast neatly on the table. Bella quickly grabbed her fork to hide her grin, while Leo cut into his food with precise movements, pretending to focus but in truth, his mood had already lifted.

After breakfast, Leo adjusted the cuffs of his black shirt, his sharp profile catching the morning light. His tone was calm, almost casual. "We need to attend a birthday party next week," he said, glancing at her with that unreadable look. "It’s going to be a large celebration—many important people will be there. The designer will come today to take your measurements."

Bella nodded, her expression soft, not giving away much. A party didn’t mean anything to her; she had never been interested in such events. But Leo... she knew he wouldn’t mention it unless it mattered.

"Okay," she said simply.

For a moment, his eyes focused on her as if he wanted to add something else. But instead, he gave a small nod, took his coat from the back of the chair, and left with his usual composed stride.

****

Later That Afternoon

The house grew quieter once Leo was gone, his presence replaced by the soft sounds of maids moving about their duties. Bella stayed in the third-floor room for a while, half-distracted by her work, until Aunt Clara reminded her gently about the designer’s visit.

When the designer’s team arrived, they came in like a wave of silk and whispers. Several assistants carried boxes of fabrics and books filled with sketches, while the designer herself—a tall woman with sharp glasses and an air of confidence—smiled politely at Bella.

"Mrs. Moretti," she greeted warmly, "we’ll keep this process as comfortable as possible."

Bella stood obediently on the raised platform in the bedroom, her cheeks pink as the assistants circled her with tape measures and notepads. They asked her to raise her arms, turn slightly, tilt her chin, every small movement was noted. Bella tried not to fidget, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

"Perfect proportions," the designer murmured approvingly as she pinned a sample fabric lightly against Bella’s waist, noting down adjustments. "Sir is going to be proud walking in with you."

Bella blinked, startled by the comment, her lips parting slightly. She wanted to protest, to say it wasn’t like that... but the words didn’t come. Her heart gave an odd little flutter, and she simply bit her lip, keeping quiet while the team worked around her.

"Since it’s a birthday party, the dress should be modest..." the designer murmured to herself, adjusting her glasses as she studied Bella’s figure. Her assistants nodded, flipping through swatches of silk and chiffon.

Bella nodded, understanding. She wasn’t the type to choose extravagant or revealing outfits anyway.

****

Meanwhile, Leo’s expression was hard as stone as he leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on the security monitors playing back silent footage of his house. Every maid. Every butler. Every guard. His gaze didn’t soften even once as his finger tapped rhythmically against the glass of his whiskey.

The idea that someone had dared to place a spy inside his own home made his jaw tighten. This was his sanctuary. His domain. And now it had been tainted.

"Did you get all the details of every servant?" His voice was low, quiet, but heavy with the kind of danger that made lesser men sweat.

"Yes, sir," Assistant Seven replied quickly. Unlike the others, Leo didn’t call him by name—he rarely bothered remembering them. They were categorized in his mind by usefulness. Numbers were enough.

Assistant Seven held a tablet in his hand, scrolling nervously as he handed over a neatly compiled file

Leo reached out and took the tablet, his fingers brushing over the glass with deliberate slowness as he began to scroll. His gray eyes moved quickly, trained to catch even the smallest inconsistency.

One by one, he read through each profile. Housemaids, cooks, gardeners, drivers. Every record was painstakingly clean. No unexplained money. No sudden disappearances. No contact with outside threats.

"Nothing?" His voice was sharp enough to cut glass.

Assistant Seven’s throat bobbed. "No, sir. No anomalies. No one stands out."

Leo leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. His face was cold, his thoughts darker still. "Interesting. That means either you’ve wasted my time..." He leaned forward suddenly, his eyes like blades. "...or it means this spy is better than you."

Assistant Seven’s palms began to sweat. "Sir, I checked thoroughly—"

"No." Leo’s lips curved in a dangerous half-smile, the kind that never reached his eyes. "If there is no dirt, no weakness, no flaw... then it means someone is hiding it perfectly. That makes them even more dangerous."

The office went silent, the sound of the monitors running in the background.

Leo snapped the tablet shut and tossed it onto the desk, his voice quiet but razor-sharp. "Keep watching them. Every move, every word. If anyone behaves suspiciously, I’ll know. And if you miss it..." He leaned in, so close that Assistant Seven froze where he stood. "...I’ll replace you with someone who won’t."

"Yes, sir." The assistant’s voice cracked despite his best efforts.

Leo leaned back again, his face unreadable, though his gray eyes flickered once toward the live feed on the monitor.

A spy in his company was expected. That was business—people sold secrets, switched loyalties, and took money from whoever paid more. He had crushed men like that before, made examples out of them until the very thought of betraying him turned into a death wish.

But a spy in his house? That was different. That meant every door, every corridor, every private corner could have eyes on it. It meant someone was listening to footsteps in the night, watching who came and went, and gathering details that could strike deeper than any business loss.