BETWEEN LOVE AND RUIN

015

(Maria's POV)

The days blurred together in a haze of exhaustion and determination. Leonardo’s training was relentless, pushing me to my limits both physically and mentally. Every morning, I woke up sore and bruised, but I refused to give up. I had made a deal with the devil, and I was going to see it through, no matter the cost.

Today was no different. I stood in the training room, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I blocked another one of Leonardo’s strikes. His movements were precise, calculated, and utterly ruthless. He didn’t hold back, and neither did I.

“Again,” he said, his voice cold and commanding.

I gritted my teeth and lunged at him, my fists flying in a flurry of strikes. He dodged each one with ease, his movements fluid and effortless. It was infuriating, but I refused to let it show.

“You’re too predictable,” he said, his tone laced with disdain. “You need to think ahead, anticipate your opponent’s moves.”

I didn’t respond, my focus entirely on the fight. I feinted to the left, then spun around, aiming a kick at his side. He blocked it with ease, but I didn’t let up. I pressed the attack, my movements becoming more aggressive, more desperate.

Finally, I saw an opening. I ducked under his arm and landed a solid punch to his ribs. He grunted in surprise, and for a moment, I felt a surge of triumph.

But it didn’t last. He recovered quickly, his expression darkening. He grabbed my arm and twisted it behind my back, forcing me to my knees.

“Better,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “But not good enough.”

I glared up at him, my chest heaving with exertion. “I’m not giving up.”

He smirked, his grip tightening slightly. “Good. Because I’m not going easy on you.”

He released me, and I stumbled to my feet, my arm throbbing. I didn’t let it show, though. I refused to give him the satisfaction.

“Again,” he said, his tone cold and commanding.

I didn’t argue. I took a deep breath and prepared myself for the next round.

---

Later that evening, I found myself wandering the halls of the mansion, my mind still racing from the day’s training. The place was eerily quiet, the only sound the soft click of my heels against the polished marble floors. I hated how oppressive it felt, how every corner seemed to hold some dark secret.

I turned a corner and found myself in the library. The room was vast, its shelves lined with ancient tomes and gilded manuscripts. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room.

I walked over to the fireplace, my fingers trailing over the spines of the books as I passed. I didn’t know what I was looking for, but the quiet of the room was a welcome reprieve from the chaos of my thoughts.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

I turned at the sound of Leonardo’s voice, my heart skipping a beat. He stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“No,” I said, my voice steady despite the sudden tension in the air. “I needed some air.”

He stepped into the room, his movements slow and deliberate. “The mansion can feel suffocating at times.”

I didn’t respond, my gaze fixed on the fire. I could feel his eyes on me, studying me, and it made my skin crawl.

“You’re doing well,” he said after a moment, his tone softer than usual. “Better than I expected.”

I glanced at him, my brow furrowing. “Is that a compliment?”

He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Take it however you like.”

I turned back to the fire, my arms crossed over my chest. “Why are you doing this? Why are you training me?”

He was silent for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. “Because I see something in you,” he said finally, his voice low and measured. “Something that reminds me of myself.”

I frowned, my chest tightening. “And what’s that?”

“A fire,” he said, his tone almost reverent. “A desire to fight, to survive, no matter the cost.”

I didn’t respond, my mind racing. I hated how his words resonated with me, how they stirred something deep inside me that I had tried to ignore.

“You’re not like the others,” he continued, his voice softer now. “You’re not content to sit back and let the world happen to you. You want to fight. And I can give you the tools to do it.”

I turned to face him, my eyes locking onto his. “And what happens when I don’t need you anymore?”

He smirked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that looked almost like respect. “Then you’ll be free.”

I didn’t respond, my chest tightening with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. I hated him, hated everything he stood for. But there was something about him, something dark and dangerous, that drew me in despite myself.

---

The next morning, I found myself in the garden, the cool morning air a welcome relief from the intensity of the training. I walked along the stone path, my fingers trailing over the leaves of the plants as I passed.

I turned a corner and found Leonardo standing by the fountain, his back to me. He was dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers, his hair slightly disheveled. He looked… different, more human, and it threw me off balance.

“You’re up early,” I said, my voice breaking the silence.

He turned to face me, his expression unreadable. “I could say the same about you.”

I shrugged, my gaze fixed on the fountain. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He was silent for a moment, and I could feel the weight of his gaze on me. “You’re thinking too much,” he said finally, his tone softer than usual. “It’s going to get you killed.”

I glanced at him, my brow furrowing. “And what do you suggest I do instead?”

He stepped closer, his eyes locking onto mine. “Stop thinking. Start feeling.”

I didn’t respond, my chest tightening with a mix of emotions I couldn’t quite name. He was so close, his presence overwhelming, and it made my skin crawl.

“You’re too controlled,” he continued, his voice low and dangerous. “You need to let go, to embrace the chaos.”

I shook my head, my jaw tightening. “I can’t.”

He smirked, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—something that looked almost like understanding. “You will. Eventually.”

I didn’t respond, my mind racing. I hated how his words resonated with me, how they stirred something deep inside me that I had tried to ignore.

---

As the days passed, I found myself noticing things about Leonardo that I hadn’t before. The way his eyes softened ever so slightly when he thought no one was looking. The way his voice carried a hint of something almost like warmth when he spoke to me. The way his presence, once so oppressive, now felt almost… comforting.

I hated it. I hated how my feelings for him were shifting, how the line between hate and something else was becoming increasingly blurred. But no matter how much I tried to fight it, I couldn’t deny the pull I felt toward him.

And that scared me more than anything.