ISABELLA

Chapter 16

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I flipped her over roughly, her body hitting the mattress with a soft thud. Her chest pressed into the bed, her back arched perfectly like she was made for me. My hands grabbed her hips, pulling her back, and I slammed inside again, harder than before.

“Ahhh—don’t stop… Leo… don’t stop,” she cried out, her nails digging into the sheets.

Her begging only drove me crazier. My thrusts became punishing, deep strokes that had her gasping, choking on her own moans. Sweat dripped down my temples, my body moving with unrestrained force.

“Faster,” she begged, her voice raw, trembling with need.

I didn’t hesitate. I gripped her tighter, pounding harder, faster, deeper—every thrust sending shockwaves through her body. The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, her cries rising higher, and the bed shook violently beneath us.

And through it all, Isabella stayed in my mind. Every sound, every thrust, every drop of sweat—I imagined it was her beneath me.

“Ohh… ahhh…” Her moans grew louder, echoing through the room.

For a split second, I closed my eyes and imagined Isabella’s moans—the ones I craved, the ones that haunted me.

“f**k… yes… Leo…” she gasped, her voice breaking with pleasure.

I felt it—her body trembling beneath me, begging for more.

“Don’t stop…” she pleaded, her nails digging into my back.

I drove faster, harder, chasing the edge of my own restraint.

And then—I couldn’t hold it back. I pulled out immediately, releasing with a guttural groan.

“You should have put it inside me,” she whispered breathlessly, eyes still glazed with desire.

“Get out.” My voice was sharp, final. I stood up, not sparing her another glance as I walked into the bathroom to clean up, disgust burning in my chest.

Behind me, I heard her soft laugh—mocking, almost cruel. “One day, Leo… one day you won’t be able to resist me.”

But I slammed the door shut, refusing to let her see the storm in my eyes.

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The water ran hot, streaming over my shoulders, tracing the lines of my body, washing away sweat, and the tension of the night. Steam curled around me, fogging the mirrors, filling the bathroom with its quiet haze.

But my mind wasn’t on the heat, or the sting of the water, or even the rough encounter earlier. It was on Isabella.

I pictured her, somewhere in the city, probably trembling, probably replaying everything from today in her head. The way she looked when she realized she was safe, the way she had clung to the thought that I would protect her.

Why did I care so much? Why did her fear make my blood boil, why did her safety matter more than anything else in the world? I was Leo—heir to everything, a man bred to control, to take, to dominate. I had a reputation to uphold, a world of power and fear around me. Emotions weren’t supposed to matter. Attachment wasn’t supposed to matter.

And yet… here I was.

Her face kept intruding in my thoughts. Her voice. The way she had trembled in my arms. That look in her eyes when she realized the man who hurt her wouldn’t be walking away. My chest tightened, and I gripped the shower wall, letting the water pound against me like it could wash away the truth of my own weakness.

I hated it. I hated that she had this effect on me, hated that she made me feel like a man who wasn’t invincible, who wasn’t untouchable, who actually cared.

But I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I wouldn’t stop.

Isabella was dangerous to me—not because of her actions, but because of what she made me feel. And maybe, deep down, I wanted that. The chaos, the control slipping just slightly. The pull of something I couldn’t dominate completely.

I closed my eyes, letting the water beat down on me, trying to drown out her memory, trying to remind myself I was Leonardo. Mafia heir. Untouchable. Unfeeling.

But the truth was unavoidable. I wasn’t unfeeling. I wasn’t untouchable. And no matter how much I tried, Isabella had already claimed a piece of me I didn’t plan on giving.

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Isabella’s POV

The morning air was crisp and bright, sunlight spilling over the swings and slides where children ran freely. I held Daniella’s hand as she skipped ahead, her laughter ringing through the park like music. Nico followed close behind, keeping an eye on both of us, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched his sister dash toward her friends.

“Be careful!” Daniella called over her shoulder, already halfway to the group of kids. Her friends squealed in delight as they all tumbled into a game of tag, their energy contagious.

I sank onto a nearby bench, letting Nico settle beside me. The park smelled of fresh grass and baked goods from a nearby cart. It was… normal. Ordinary. Peaceful. I felt almost weightless. Almost.

Nico leaned back, arms crossed casually, though his eyes never left Daniella. “She’s growing so fast,” he said softly. “Feels like yesterday she was running around the house, and now look at her—running circles around everyone here.”

I smiled, watching Daniella throw herself into a tumble of giggles and laughter with her friends. “She really has your energy,” I said lightly, though my heart swelled with pride.

For a while, the morning stayed like that: simple, warm, almost like nothing else in the world existed.

Then came the sudden scream.

Metal clattered against pavement, a child’s toy thrown aside in panic, and a group of men appeared—young, reckless, anger written across their faces. Their argument escalated fast, fists swinging, voices shouting, and before I could even process what was happening, gunshots rang out, echoing through the park.

Chaos erupted instantly. Children scattered, parents screamed, and I froze. Nico was faster. He scooped her up in his arms, holding her close, eyes dark with fury.

“Isabella, move!” he shouted, dragging her backward toward the edge of the park. But I couldn’t. I was rooted in place, heart hammering, adrenaline coursing through me.

From the edge of the park, more figures appeared—men in dark suits, calm but authoritative. Riccardo’s men. The tension shifted immediately; the gang’s wild energy faltered the second they saw the organized presence arriving.

And then Riccardo himself. Stepping forward with authority, eyes scanning the scene, calculating, commanding. Within seconds, the gang members who had dared to cause chaos were subdued, pinned to the ground, some terrified, some defiant—but none daring to cross the line once Riccardo’s presence settled over them.

My legs shook as Riccardo strode past the fray, straight toward me. He crouched slightly, placing a firm hand on my arm. “Isabella,” he said, voice low but strong, eyes scanning me carefully. “You’re okay?”

I nodded, heart still racing, words failing me. His gaze softened only slightly before snapping back to the troublemakers, who were now kneeling, restrained by his men.

“They will pay,” Riccardo said, voice icy. “They don’t get to ruin this day. Not while you’re here.” His attention briefly flicked to Daniella, safe now in Nico’s arms, before returning to me. “And you… you stay out of this next time. You can’t be in the open like that.”

The gang members were hauled away by his men, the chaos slowly retreating, leaving a tense calm over the park. Nico set Daniella down, still holding her hand tightly.

I exhaled, finally, as the adrenaline drained. The sunlight fell warm again on our faces, but the reminder of danger lingered like a shadow. Riccardo’s men stayed close, vigilant, and I realized—no matter how ordinary a day seemed, the world I moved in was never truly safe.