Chapter 9: Possessive
648 Words
The kiss lingered long after it ended.
Isabella stood frozen, her lips still tingling, her heart refusing to slow down.
Leonard watched her closely, too close.
As if every reaction she made belonged to him.
"You're thinking too much," he said quietly.
Her eyes lifted to his. "I should be."
A faint smirk touched his lips.
"I prefer it when you don't."
Her breath caught again.
This man...He didn't just speak.
He commanded.
Before she could respond, the door opened once more. This time, it was the doctor.
"Mr. DeLuca, your results are stable," he said carefully. "We recommend a few more days of observation, but—"
"I'm leaving today." He interrupted
The room went still.
The doctor blinked. "Sir, that's not advisable—"
"I wasn't asking."
Isabella frowned. "Leonard, you just woke up—"
"And I'm taking my wife home." He added
The way he said my wife made her stomach twist.
Not because it felt wrong... but because it felt too real.
An hour later—
Everything moved fast.
Black luxury cars lined up outside the hospital.
Security men stood at every corner.
Nurses whispered.
Doctors didn't argue anymore.
Isabella stepped outside, her eyes widening slightly.
"This is... a lot."
Leonard glanced at her.
"It's normal."
Before she could say anything else, he reached for her hand again, guiding her towards the car like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Like she had always belonged beside him.
The ride was silent.But not empty.
Isabella sat beside him, aware of everything—the closeness, the tension, the weight of what she had done and most especially the lie.
"Why are you quiet?" Leonard asked suddenly.
She hesitated. "Just thinking."
"About leaving?" He asked
Her head snapped toward him. "No."
His gaze held hers for a moment longer before he looked away."Good."
The car slowed.
Then stopped.
When the door opened, Isabella stepped out—and froze.
The mansion stood tall and breathtaking.
Massive glass windows.
White marble walls.
A fountain at the center of the driveway.
Luxury cars parked like decorations.
Everything screamed power, wealth and control
"This is your home," Leonard said behind her.
She turned slowly.
"Your home," she corrected.
He stepped closer.
"No," he said quietly. "Ours."
Her heart skipped.
Inside—
The mansion was even more overwhelming.
Crystal chandeliers.
Polished floors.
Staff lined up on both sides, waiting, watching.
"Welcome back, sir," they greeted in unison.
Then their eyes shifted to Isabella.
Curious, judging, surprise.
Leonard didn't hesitate.
His hand found hers again.
Holding it tightly. Claiming.
"She stays with me," he said firmly.
No explanation.No introduction.
Just a statement.
The staff exchanged glances, confused.
But no one questioned him.
As they walked deeper into the mansion, Isabella leaned slightly closer to him.
"They're staring."
"Let them," he replied.
His grip tightened slightly.
"You're not going anywhere."
Her chest tightened again.
This wasn't just protection, this was control.
Just as they reached the staircase—
A voice stopped them.
"So it's true."
Isabella turned.
And her heart dropped.
Victoria stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Perfectly dressed, perfectly composed but her eyes burned with anger.
"You brought her here," she said slowly.
Leonard didn't react.
"Yes."
Victoria laughed softly, but there was no humor in it.
"You don't even remember your own life... yet you're playing house with her?"
Isabella stiffened.This wasn't good.
"You shouldn't be here," Leonard said coldly.
Victoria stepped closer.
"Oh, yes I should," she said. "Because someone needs to remind you who you really are."
Leonard's jaw tightened.
"I don't need reminders."
Victoria's gaze shifted to Isabella.
Sharp.
Cruel.
"Then maybe she does."
Isabella's heart pounded.
"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.
Victoria smiled.
Slow, Dangerous.
"I mean..." she stepped closer, her voice dropping just enough to cut deep—
"...you should tell him how much he used to hate you."
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