ISABELLA

Chapter 27

The smell of fresh bread, eggs, and coffee filled the air, but Isabella’s appetite was nowhere to be found.

Aria sat across from her, bright as ever, chatting lightly about some gala she wanted to attend. Matteo was at the far end, silent, checking his phone every so often. And then there was Leo—at the head of the table, unreadable, sipping his espresso like a king on his throne.

Isabella pushed her food around her plate. Her fork barely touched the eggs before she set it down again.

“You’re not eating,” Aria observed gently.

Isabella forced a smile. “I’m not very hungry.”

Before Aria could respond, Leo’s voice cut through the room, low and commanding.

“Eat.”

Her head snapped toward him. He hadn’t even looked up from his cup, but the steel in his tone made it clear it wasn’t a suggestion.

“I said I’m not hungry,” Isabella replied tightly, her voice laced with irritation.

That made him look up. His eyes locked onto hers, sharp and unyielding. He set his cup down slowly, the clink against the saucer echoing like a warning.

“Sit properly,” he said, his gaze flicking to the way she was half-slouched in her chair. “And finish your food.”

Heat rose in her chest, anger sparking. “You can’t order me around like a child, Leo.”

“Yes, I can,” he countered smoothly, leaning back in his chair, one hand draped casually on the armrest. “Because while you’re under my roof, you follow my rules. And one of my rules is that you don’t starve yourself out of stubbornness.”

Aria’s eyes darted between them, lips pressed together like she was holding back a smile. Matteo kept his head down, wisely choosing not to interfere.

Isabella gritted her teeth, her pride screaming at her to get up and walk away. But Leo’s stare was suffocating—unyielding, commanding, daring her to defy him.

Slowly, she picked up her fork and stabbed a piece of egg, lifting it to her mouth. His eyes tracked the motion, satisfied when she took the bite.

“Good,” he said quietly, almost like he was praising a child but with that dark undertone of control. “Now finish the rest.”

Her jaw clenched. She chewed slowly, refusing to give him the satisfaction of obedience too easily.

Aria suddenly leaned forward, breaking the tension with a teasing grin. “God, you two are exhausting. Isabella, you should know by now my brother won’t let you win. And Leo…” She shook her head with a laugh. “You’re ridiculous. Let the poor girl eat when she wants.”

Leo didn’t even glance at his sister. His gaze stayed on Isabella, hard and unrelenting. “She’ll eat,” he repeated.

Isabella swallowed the food, glaring at him across the table. She hated that part of her—deep, deep down—liked the way his dominance wrapped around her, the way he saw through her resistance and refused to back down.

But she would never admit that.

Not out loud.

Leo leaned back in his chair, watching her like a hawk until she took another bite.

And then—footsteps. Slow, dragging, almost reluctant.

Everyone turned as Riccardo strolled into the dining room, hair a mess, shirt half-buttoned like he’d rolled out of bed seconds ago. He squinted against the sunlight pouring in through the tall windows.

“Well, well, well,” Aria said dramatically, throwing her napkin on the table. “Look who decided to grace us with his presence before noon. This must be a historic day.”

“Shut up,” Riccardo muttered, yawning so wide Isabella thought his jaw might crack. He plopped down in the chair next to her, stealing a piece of bread straight from her plate without asking.

Isabella blinked at him in disbelief. “Excuse me—”

“Relax, principessa,” Riccardo said around a mouthful of bread, giving her a lazy grin. “You weren’t eating it anyway.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed immediately. “Riccardo.”

He raised both hands innocently, smirk still tugging at his lips. “What? I’m just helping reduce food waste. Very noble of me, don’t you think?”

Aria burst out laughing, nearly choking on her coffee. Even Matteo looked up from his phone with a faint smirk.

Isabella pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to laugh as well. There was something about Riccardo’s easy charm that made it impossible to stay annoyed.

Leo, however, was less amused. His stare shifted between Isabella and Riccardo like he was calculating just how much trouble he’d cause if he threw his cousin out the window.

“Don’t touch her plate again,” Leo said flatly.

Riccardo leaned back in his chair, stretching like a cat. “Ah, so protective. What is she, yours?” His words were playful, but his eyes glimmered with mischief as they flicked between Leo and Isabella.

Isabella’s cheeks heated instantly. “He’s not—” she started, but Leo’s voice cut over hers, sharp as a knife.

“Finish your breakfast, Isabella,” Leo ordered, ignoring Riccardo entirely.

Riccardo chuckled under his breath, reaching for another roll from the basket in the middle. “This is gonna be fun,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Aria leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Oh, it’s already fun. Breakfast hasn’t been this entertaining in months.”

Isabella groaned inwardly, stabbing her eggs again while trying not to look at Leo’s piercing gaze—or Riccardo’s smug smirk.

Later That Day

Isabella slipped away to the garden for some fresh air, grateful to be away from Leo’s overbearing stares at breakfast. The Deluca mansion grounds were breathtaking—marble fountains, rows of roses, ivy climbing up stone walls—but she still felt like she was walking on eggshells inside this place.

She had just sat down on a stone bench when Riccardo appeared, hands shoved into his pockets, his expression far too amused for her liking.

“You’re a brave one,” he drawled, tilting his head. “Not many people would survive a breakfast under Leo’s glare.”

Isabella crossed her arms. “Why do I feel like you’re here to bother me?”

“Because I am.” Riccardo’s grin widened as he sat down beside her, close enough to make her shift uncomfortably. “So… you and my dear cousin. What’s really going on there, hm?”

“Nothing,” Isabella said quickly, looking away.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Mmm, I don’t believe that. I saw the way he looked at you. Leo doesn’t look at anyone like that. Usually he just stares like he’s planning their funeral.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re imagining things.”

“Oh, principessa,” Riccardo chuckled lowly, his voice teasing but sharp. “If you think I can’t tell when Leo wants something—or someone—you underestimate me.”

Her pulse quickened, though she tried to keep her face neutral. “Even if that were true, it’s none of your business.”

Riccardo smirked, leaning even closer until his lips almost brushed her ear. “Everything that involves Leo is my business. And trust me… he doesn’t share well. So if you are playing with fire…” He paused, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Be prepared to burn.”

Isabella shot him a glare and stood abruptly. “You’re insufferable.”

“Guilty,” Riccardo said smoothly, leaning back on the bench with a lazy stretch. “But don’t worry, princess. Your secret’s safe with me—for now.”

She walked away, her heart pounding in her chest, half in irritation, half in something else she didn’t want to name.

From behind her, Riccardo’s voice followed, smug and taunting:

“Better be careful, Isabella. Leo isn’t the only one watching you.”