CHAPTER 33: CHAPTER 33

Leonardo walked into the study room.

Lina stood near the window, arms folded, her expression unreadable. The soft afternoon light lit up her features, making her eyes even sharper.

Leonardo frowned. He rarely saw that look on her face unless something had deeply unsettled her.

"What happened, Mom?" he asked, voice cold but serious. "Why did you call me so urgently?"

Lina turned slowly, her tone calm but edged with steel. "Where is your wife?"

Leonardo blinked. "In her room, I guess. Why?"

"She didn’t come down all morning. She didn’t eat. And when the maid knocked, she didn’t even respond."

Leonardo’s brows knit together. "Maybe she’s tired. She sleeps like a log—"

Lina interrupted, voice low and cold. "Leonardo. She didn’t sleep like that when I was here and I know what silent suffering looks like."

Leonardo exhaled slowly, still confused. "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because she’s your wife," Lina said simply, her gaze locking onto his. "Paper or not, name-sake or not—you brought her into this family. If something happened last night, if she was triggered, or hurt, or reminded of something painful then you, as her husband, should know."

Leonardo’s expression stiffened.

"I’m not asking you to love her," Lina said, softer now. "But don’t ignore her. That girl has been through something, Leo. It’s in her eyes."

Leonardo didn’t reply immediately. His jaw clenched slightly as he looked toward the hallway.

The image of Isabella sitting quietly beside him in the car, then falling asleep without a word, came back to him.

She’d been... different.

And he hadn’t cared enough to ask why.

Lina watched him carefully, then turned back toward the window.

"I’m not telling you what to do, son. But if she’s suffering in silence under your roof, and you let it happen..." Her voice softened into something dangerous. "Then I’ve failed as a mother to you."

Leonardo didn’t say a word.

But the next second, he turned around

"...But what’s my fault?" Leonardo muttered as he walked near the doorway, his voice lower now.

Lina looked at her son’s stiff shoulders, the slight tension in his jaw, and the way his hands were clenched at his sides. He was trying to keep control.

But she could read him better than anyone.

Leonardo wasn’t a boy anymore. He was a man raised in blood and business, groomed to lead an empire that didn’t allow weakness. He built walls even he forgot how to climb over.

Still, he wasn’t heartless. Just... lost.

And he didn’t know how to understand what he was feeling now.

He didn’t even know if he was supposed to care.

Lina sighed and said nothing. Because she knew this was his battle now.

Leonardo, on the other hand, stood still, staring at the floor with a faint frown.

He liked women who were fierce. Untouchable. Ruthless if needed.

Women who could stand beside him, not behind.

Not someone like Isabella.

She was the exact opposite of everything he ever imagined in a partner.

"You took her to the bar yesterday," Lina said sharply. "And now she’s suffering with a fever."

Leonardo slowly turned his attention back to her face, his expression unreadable. But Lina didn’t pause.

"She didn’t eat. She didn’t speak. She’s curled up in bed like the world ended, and you didn’t even notice?"

Leonardo’s brows lowered. "I didn’t know—"

"Because you didn’t ask, Leonardo!" Lina snapped. "She’s a girl, not a machine. Not someone you parade around a bar full of men while she’s still learning how to be safe in a home!"

He clenched his jaw, but said nothing.

Lina’s voice softened, but the disappointment in her eyes deepened. "She was fine for weeks. Peaceful. Smiling. Do you know how long it takes someone broken to smile?"

Leonardo’s throat tightened.

Lina shook her head slowly. "She’s scared again. And if that fever’s coming from more than just a cold, then I swear—if I find out you let her fall apart right under your nose, I will never forgive you."

She paused, then added quietly, "And neither will she."

Leonardo didn’t respond.

But the weight of her words settled deep in his chest like a stone dropped into still water.

Lina saw something in Isabella that no one else did...something not even Leonardo had taken the time to understand.

At first glance, Isabella seemed childish. Silly. Too soft for the brutal world they lived in. But that was only the surface.

Lina is a woman who grew up around power, betrayal, and masks. She knows how to read people—their lies, their strength, their weakness.

But Isabella didn’t wear a mask. Her innocence wasn’t just sweetness—it was survival.

The way she nervously smiled when overwhelmed.

The way she always said thank you, even for small things.

The way she clung to her plush toys and wore oversized cute clothes as if she was still trying to protect herself in a world too loud for her quiet heart.

Leonardo frowned, arms crossed as he leaned slightly against the doorframe of the study, his mother’s words still echoing in his ears.

Why was she being so dramatic?

Why was she acting like Isabella was some porcelain doll who needed constant guarding?

He didn’t mistreat her. He hadn’t hurt her. He gave her a room. Clothes. Food. Space. He didn’t interfere in her life. Wasn’t that enough?

"It’s not like I’ve done anything to her..." he thought, irritation flickering behind his cold gray eyes.

But even as he tried to justify it, something about his mother’s tone stuck in his chest like a splinter. Her words hadn’t just been protective—they had been personal.

Too personal.

His mom, the woman who had ruled over entire estates, survived mafia politics was now speaking like Isabella was something precious. Like she saw through her.

And that confused him more than anything.

Why was she caring so much?

Why had everyone in the house begun to treat Isabella like she was someone fragile and important at the same time?

They were all drawn to her—whether his mother, his brother, or the maids... He had noticed.

To her innocence. To her quiet presence.

To the parts Leonardo still didn’t understand.

But maybe that’s what frustrated him the most.

He was a man of logic, power, and control and nothing about Isabella made sense.

She wasn’t strong. She wasn’t clever with words. She wasn’t someone who fit into his world.

Yet somehow... she had the entire household wrapped around her finger without even trying.

**

After her son left the study, Lina stood in silence for a long moment, her arms still crossed as her eyes lingered on the closed door. A sigh escaped her lips, quiet but heavy. She didn’t know how Leonardo managed to lead an empire, handle mafia alliances, control dangerous men, and still fail to understand something as close as his own wife.

He hadn’t even investigated her properly before marrying her.

That alone unsettled Lina more than she liked to admit.

She was not the type of woman to accept strangers near her family blindly. Especially not someone living under the same roof as her son—someone carrying the title of his wife. So, she quietly instructed her own private team to conduct a full background check on Isabella.

The report arrived a few days later. And what Lina read... left her speechless.

It wasn’t just a sad story—it was brutal. Isabella had lost her father and grandmother when she was just six. She’d been placed under the care of an uncle who drank, abused, and treated her like a burden. Her own mother, Jessica, had abandoned her, only to reappear years later to use her as a pawn.

And yet... the girl still smiled.

She still offered cookies to everyone. She thanked the staff. She wore those ridiculous bunny slippers and talked to plush toys like they were alive. She never once raised her voice. Never once complained.

Lina, a woman who had dealt with cold-blooded men and venomous women all her life, didn’t consider herself kind. She was calculated, sharp, and had her own share of scars. But even she couldn’t deny that Isabella’s softness after so much pain... moved her.

It wasn’t pity she felt.

It was respect.

Because the kind of innocence that survived cruelty that clung to gentleness in a world that demanded hardness was rare.

And Lina decided right then and there: she would protect that girl.

No matter what the past had done to her.

No matter how blind her own son continued to be.

***

Leonardo walked down the quiet hallway, his footsteps light but quick. He reached Isabella’s room and paused at the door, his fingers brushing the handle. After a moment, he pushed it open gently.

The room was dim, curtains drawn, and the air felt unusually still. His eyes fell on the small figure curled up tightly under the blanket. Isabella was lying on her side, hugging her plush bunny close. She wasn’t moving—not even a twitch. Just stillness and silence.

His brows drew together in a frown.

A soft voice pulled him out of his thoughts.

"Master."

He turned slightly to see one of the maids standing behind him, her hands folded politely, eyes lowered with a trace of concern.

He nodded once, then glanced back at the bed.

"...How is she?" he asked.

The maid hesitated, then stepped closer. "She has a fever, sir. Not too high... but she didn’t eat or drink anything. We offered tea and breakfast, but she didn’t respond."

Leonardo’s frown deepened. His eyes didn’t leave Isabella’s form. She looked... small. Not just because of her size, but the way she lay, curled in tightly like a child trying to disappear into the mattress.