CHAPTER 45: CHAPTER 45

"Y-Yeah... sorry," she said with a sheepish smile, "I have guitar classes."

"Then... will you come here tomorrow?" Rumi asked with the saddest pout imaginable, his voice dramatic like a child begging for another cookie.

Isabella blinked, a little flustered by how sincere he looked. "I-I don’t know..." she replied honestly, her fingers clutching the strap of her bag.

"Let her go, Rumi," Elliot called from behind, rolling his eyes as he shut down his monitor. "Bella, you’re free to escape this chaos now."

Isabella let out a soft giggle and gave them all a gentle wave. "Bye, everyone!"

A chorus of "Bye, Bella!" echoed from the room—Zara giving her a salute, Deshawn nodding with a smirk, Kio simply raising a thumb, and Rumi dramatically clutching his heart like he’d just been abandoned.

Elliot walked her to the elevator and all the way outside, a quiet, kind presence beside her. He turned to her with a smile.

"I’m glad you came," he said.

Isabella smiled back. "Me too."

She waved at him one last time and turned toward the sleek black car parked by the curb. As she climbed in, she suddenly remembered something and turned to the driver, guilt blooming on her face.

"I’m so sorry! You had to wait for me all this time..." she said, voice soft and anxious.

But the driver gave her a kind smile in the rearview mirror. "It’s okay, ma’am. I fell asleep in the car. Don’t worry."

Relieved, Isabella sank into her seat, heart still full from the strange, sweet day she hadn’t expected at all.

When Isabella reached home, the sun was still shining brightly overhead, casting a soft warmth across everything. The sky was clear, painted in a calm blue with a few white clouds drifting slowly. A light breeze brushed against her skin as she stepped out, carrying the faint scent of summer air. Birds chirped lazily somewhere nearby, and the world felt quiet, as if taking a gentle breath in the middle of the day.

As she stepped through the front door, she was surprised to find Theo already waiting in the living room, casually flipping through a music book while humming to himself.

He looked up the moment he heard her footsteps and grinned. "You’re finally home, Miss Rockstar. I was beginning to think you’d ditched me for another tutor."

Isabella let out a breathy laugh, brushing her hair behind her ear. "No, no... I just lost track of time. Sorry!"

"It’s fine," Theo said, standing up and stretching. "Go freshen up, and we’ll get started. I tuned the guitar while waiting."

Isabella nodded quickly and hurried upstairs to change into something more comfortable. She washed her face, splashed some cold water on her cheeks to refresh herself, and tied her hair back into a loose ponytail.

Within minutes, she was back downstairs, guitar in hand, ready for their lesson.

And just like that, her quiet, music-filled evening began. The soft strums of guitar, the occasional teasing from Theo, and her determined little fingers dancing over the strings filled the house with a peaceful, homey warmth.

***

Isabella sat on the edge of her bed, gently plucking the strings of her guitar, her lips curling into a quiet smile.

Theo had just left after a three-hour-long session, and though her fingers were sore and slightly red, her heart was dancing with joy. She had learned a few basic chords, nothing complicated but when she strummed them together just right, it actually sounded like music. Real music.

"It’s not bad..." she whispered to herself, still amazed.

She looked down at the guitar resting in her lap, as if it had become something more than wood and strings like it was her companion now. Her eyes sparkled with a childlike daydream as she imagined herself sitting on a quiet city street, guitar in hand, playing soft melodies while people paused to listen.

In her mind, the scene bloomed like a movie: she sat beneath a tree with fairy lights hanging above, her long hair swaying with the breeze. A small crowd gathered, drawn by the sound of her music. Children clapped, someone dropped coins into her open guitar case, and a couple smiled while holding hands.

And there she was with her eyes closed, cheeks slightly flushed, completely lost in her song.

She giggled softly in real life, covering her face with her hands. "Aii, what am I thinking..."

***

On the other hand, somewhere in the deep corners of the city, it was already past midnight.

Leonardo stood in front of a dark sink, sleeves rolled up, silently washing the blood off his hands. The water ran red for a moment before fading clear. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the exhaust fan and the occasional drip of the tap.

Another traitor. Another name crossed off.

He dried his hands with a towel, tossed it aside, and walked into the changing room. Within minutes, he had switched into a fitted black shirt with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, and dark pants that hugged his frame with effortless elegance. A silver watch wrapped his wrist, his hair slightly tousled but still neat, and the faint scent of his expensive cologne clung to the air around him.

He looked like sin wrapped in silk. Cold, deadly, and devastatingly handsome.

Just as he buttoned the last cuff, his phone buzzed.

Alan Brown.

Leonardo picked up with a blank expression.

"Hey~~ Leo? We’re at the same bar. You’re coming, right?" Alan’s voice came through, lazy and clearly tipsy.

In the background, Casper’s voice shouted loud and chaotic, "COME HERE, YOU BASTARD!"

Leonardo exhaled quietly. "Alright," he said, his voice calm and deep.

He hung up.

And within twenty minutes, he was on his way to Bar 1989—where the drinks were always strong, the women were always watching, and his friends were always a few glasses away from trouble.

The moment Leonardo stepped into Bar 1989, the scent of expensive alcohol, heavy perfume, and low thumping bass hit him like a wave. The dim lighting cast shadows across the velvet booths and crystal glasses, making everything look more dangerous and decadent.

He didn’t have to look far.

At their usual VIP corner, Alan was already causing a scene, two women were perched on either of his legs, giggling shamelessly as he lazily twirled a strand of one woman’s hair with a half-lidded smirk. His tie was loosened, his shirt unbuttoned at the top, and he looked like he hadn’t cared about rules in hours.

Casper was across from him, drinking wine like it was water. A tall bottle was already half empty, and he was leaning back with a flushed face, grinning at something nobody said.

Zion Wu was the only one who looked composed—seated in the corner with a wine glass in hand, his long fingers curled around the stem as he calmly watched the chaos. His silver watch gleamed under the low lights, and his cool eyes flicked to Leonardo the second he entered.

And then... Alexa.

She was sitting elegantly with her legs crossed, dressed in a tight black dress that left little to the imagination. Her long dark hair fell over one shoulder in waves, and her lips were painted a glossy, deep red. Her eyes were lined in dark smokey shadow, bold and sharp, fixed straight on Leonardo.

She stood up immediately, the hem of her dress lifting just a little higher, and sauntered toward him like a cat in heat.

"Leo," she purred, as if his name was a secret only she was allowed to whisper.

Leonardo didn’t stop walking.

He passed her without a glance, heading straight to the empty spot next to Zion.

"Bring me whiskey," he said calmly to the waiter.

Alexa’s smile faltered for a second but she wasn’t giving up that easily.

"How’s everything going?" Zion asked calmly, his voice low and composed as always, the rim of his wine glass brushing his lip.

Leonardo leaned back in his seat, resting one arm over the plush leather as the waiter placed a crystal glass of whiskey in front of him. He picked it up without a word, swirled it once, and took a slow sip.

The burn ran down his throat, and his tense shoulders relaxed just slightly.

"Fine," he replied, his voice cold and flat. "Caught two traitors today."

Zion nodded, as if it was just another item on a checklist. "Clean?"

Leonardo’s eyes flicked toward him. "Always."

On the other side, Alan let out a loud laugh, distracted with his women, while Casper raised his empty wine glass toward the ceiling like it was a trophy.

But Zion just sipped his wine and said with a faint smirk, "Good. One less headache."

Alexa, standing a few feet away, bit her lip.

Alexa slid into the seat directly across from Leonardo, her movements graceful and practiced like a scene she’d rehearsed a thousand times. She crossed her legs slowly, letting her high heels catch the soft light of the bar, and rested her chin on her hand as she stared at him.

Her eyes didn’t leave his face.

Even in the dim glow of the room, Leonardo looked like he was carved from marble—jawline sharp, dark hair slightly tousled from the wind outside, and those cold gray eyes that gave nothing away. He leaned back lazily in the booth, his black shirt stretching across his chest, collar slightly open, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone and a thin silver chain.

But it was his hands that held her attention the longest.

Strong, veined, with long fingers curled around the whiskey glass. When he lifted it to his lips again, the slow movement—the way the liquid swirled made her bite the inside of her cheek. There was something almost unfair about how good he looked without trying. How deep his voice was when he spoke, how effortlessly dangerous he seemed even in silence.