CHAPTER 297: CHAPTER 297 GAMES

"Boss?" His voice cracked slightly, betraying his nerves. He cleared his throat and tried again, louder this time. "Boss, Isaac is here."

There was a pause. A long one.

From inside, the deep, cool voice that always seemed to wrap itself around Bella’s nerves came through the door.

"Let him in."

Bella’s breath caught. Her fingers clenched around her phone so tightly she worried it might crack. For a second, she considered turning back, running down the hall and never coming here again. But then she remembered the violet shirt, remembered Dorabella’s kiss, remembered the smirk in his eyes when he teased her.

Her lips curved stubbornly. Fine. You want Isaac? You’ll get Isaac.

Jeffery swung the door open, stepping aside with a dramatic gesture. "Sir, presenting Isaac," he said proudly, as though unveiling some grand treasure.

Bella lifted her chin and walked in, her steps steady despite the wild pounding of her heart.

Behind the grand desk, Leo Moretti stood waiting, his violet shirt catching the light, his jaw set sharp, his gaze locking onto her the moment she entered. His eyes narrowed, flickering with something dangerous, something that made Bella’s pulse race and her disguise suddenly feel paper-thin.

"Sit," Leo ordered, his voice deep and even, as he pointed to the chair opposite his desk and lowered himself into his own.

Bella flopped into the seat with all the arrogance she could muster, crossing one leg over the other and folding her arms. Her chin lifted proudly, as if she were the one in control here.

Jeffery, sensing the sudden shift in atmosphere, slipped out quickly, shutting the door behind him. The click echoed through the spacious office, leaving only the two of them.

Bella tilted her head and narrowed her eyes. "So, in what exactly do you need my help, Leonardo?" she said coolly, dragging out the name.

The bad Angel in her head immediately doubled over with laughter, clutching its tiny stomach. Hahaha! She called him Leonardo! That’s it, that’s the kill shot!

Leo’s lips twitched. Leonardo? The name, usually reserved for his enemies or his mother when she was furious, rolled off her tongue with mocking sweetness. Bella had never called him that before. She always said Leo—sometimes softly, sometimes angrily, sometimes in that cute little way that made him lose his mind. But this... this was new.

Very good, he thought darkly, suppressing the smile tugging at his mouth. Very, very good. My bunny thinks she can play games with me?

He leaned back in his chair, the violet shirt hugging his broad frame as he steepled his fingers under his chin. His gaze dragged over her slowly, deliberately, and the intensity of it made Bella squirm ever so slightly before she forced herself to sit taller.

"You’ve grown bold, Isaac," Leo said smoothly, his tone calm but laced with amusement. "Walking into my company, daring to sit there as if you own the place... and now addressing me as though we’re equals."

Bella’s lips curved, though her heart raced. "If you want my help, Leonardo, then you should treat me with respect."

The bad Angel howled with delight. Yes, Bella! Destroy him!

But her good Angel buried its face in its hands, whispering, Oh no... this is not going to end well...

Leo’s eyes darkened, and for a moment the corner of his mouth lifted into that dangerous smirk she knew far too well. He didn’t correct her. He didn’t argue. He simply let the silence stretch, heavy and charged, his gaze fixed on her with unshakable intensity.

And Bella, though her lips remained in a smug little pout, felt her toes curling in her shoes.

"Okay, Isa," Leo said, the smile slow and deliberate, as if he were tasting each syllable. "I will treat you with respect." His voice was calm, but there was a flash of triumph at the edges, a private satisfaction that made the air between them thrum. "I need your help, and of course I’ll pay you well." He folded his hands on the desk, watching her like a hunter who had finally closed distance with his prey but found he didn’t want to let it go.

Then he relaxed into the terms, laying them out with that cold, clinical precision he favored. "You’ll work for me daily," he said, "but I’ll also give you the privilege of working three days a week in the company. The remaining days you may work from home."

Her eyes brightened for the barest fraction of a second, excitement edged by caution, and she swallowed the little thrill back down so perfectly her face betrayed nothing.

His smile shifted, sharpening on one side. "Don’t try to outsmart me and hide," he warned softly, meaning every word. "You know I can find you anywhere." The sentence felt like a pact written in steel: he could, he would, and that was the end of it.

Isabella met him without flinching. Her voice steadied into something firmer than the playful notes she sometimes used with him. "I’m not trying to outsmart you," she said, each word measured, "but don’t think you can outsmart me either. I have the ability to destroy everything you think you know." There was a strange calm at the core of her warning, not the loud anger of a child lashing out, but something different. Something dangerous.

For the first time in their conversation, something in Leo shifted so quickly it felt like the room itself changed temperature. He had expected games from her, coy defiance, maybe a few jabs. He had not expected that steel of hers, that unapologetic spine. The sight of it—the tiny fists at her sides, the way her jaw set when she spoke—tugged at him with a force he could not name. It was infuriating and intoxicating all at once.

He found himself suddenly aware of everything: the tilt of her head when she lied, the faint tremor in her fingers when she forced herself steady, the way the light kissed the soft line of her mouth. She was many things in a single breath—bold, fragile, dangerous, defiant and each facet drew him in as if gravity had been rearranged around her.

He had come to ask for her help, but now his chest was full of something he had never intended to admit. Admiration, hunger, protectiveness, impatience, all of it mixing until his rational mind felt paper-thin under its weight.