ISABELLA

Chapter 34

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Isabella’s POV

The warmth was gone.

My eyes fluttered open, sunlight slipping through the curtains, spilling across the empty space beside me. My hand moved instinctively, searching for him, but all I found was cool sheets.

Leo wasn’t there.

For a second, disappointment tugged at me. He’d been there last night—holding me, steadying me when I finally broke. His arms had been the only place I’d felt safe since… everything. And now, the room felt colder without him.

I sat up slowly, my fingers brushing over my lips. The memory came back sharp, like fire licking at my skin—his mouth on mine. That kiss. The way he’d pulled me close, the way his words had broken me down—“I want to protect you until the very end.”

My cheeks burned. My lips tingled. And before I could stop myself, a small smile crept across my face.

God help me, I didn’t want to forget how it felt.

I wasn’t drowning in grief. I was… breathless. Alive.

And it was because of him.

I bit down on my lip, the smile lingering, my heart racing even though he wasn’t in the room.

Leo DeLuca was dangerous in every way. And still… part of me already knew—I wouldn’t be able to stay away.

Third Person POV

She wasn’t headed for the dining room; she didn’t want to sit across from Valentina’s sharp tongue or Don DeLuca’s cold eyes. No. Her eyes flickered toward the hall, searching for one face. Just one.

Leo.

She longed to see him, to know if he’d look at her the same way he had last night, or if he’d gone back to being the untouchable heir of the DeLuca family.

“Isabella?”

The gentle voice pulled her from her thoughts. She turned and saw Aria standing near the dining room doors, her hair tied back, dressed elegantly but comfortably. There was a soft smile on her lips.

“You missed breakfast,” Aria said, her tone light, almost teasing. “Come. Eat something at least. I’ll sit with you.”

Isabella hesitated, her stomach fluttering nervously. She wanted Leo, not food. But refusing would look suspicious, so she nodded quietly and followed Aria inside.

The long dining table was mostly cleared, but a servant quickly brought a plate for Isabella—fresh fruit, bread, eggs. She sat, feeling strangely small in the enormous room. Aria slid into the chair beside her, propping her chin on her hand as she studied Isabella.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” Aria said softly, “quieter than usual.”

Isabella tried to smile. “I just… haven’t been sleeping much.”

Aria tilted her head knowingly, her eyes glinting with something mischievous. “And yet… this morning you look like someone who’s carrying a secret.”

Isabella froze, nearly choking on her piece of bread. Her face heated instantly, and she quickly lowered her gaze to the table. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Aria chuckled softly, her tone more like that of an older sister than anything else. “Relax, Isa. I’m not going to pry. Whatever it is… it’s written all over your face. And I have a feeling it has something to do with Leo.”

At the sound of his name, Isabella’s heart skipped. She tried to deny it, but Aria was watching her too closely. Her silence was enough of an answer.

Aria sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You know… Leo told me about the Russians.”

That made Isabella look up sharply, her fork frozen in her hand. “He… he told you?”

“Yes,” Aria said gently. “He thought I should know what kind of danger we’re dealing with.” She paused, watching Isabella carefully. “But you know what? I don’t care.”

Isabella blinked, her chest tightening. “You don’t…?”

Aria shook her head firmly. “No. I don’t care about bloodlines or histories or old grudges between Italians and Russians. That’s our parents’ world, not ours. And I don’t care where you come from, Isa. What matters is who you are now.”

Her voice softened, warm and certain. “And I see the way Leo looks at you. He tries so hard to hide it, but he can’t. And I’ve never seen him fight this hard for anyone before. That tells me enough.”

Isabella’s throat tightened, tears stinging her eyes. She lowered her gaze, biting her lip to keep from crying.

Aria reached, her fingers brushing Isabella’s hand. “Don’t let fear push you away from him. He’s stubborn and difficult, yes—but Leo doesn’t let people in. If he’s letting you in… that means something.”

Isabella smiled, a soft, shy curve of her lips. “Thank you, Aria.”

“Anytime,” Aria said, giving her hand a squeeze. Then she smirked. “But you really should eat. If Leo sees you skipping meals again, he’ll scold you like a child.”

Isabella laughed lightly, her heart warming at the thought. She picked up her fork and took a bite, even though her mind was still on Leo, on last night, on his kiss.

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The sound of gunfire cracked through the air before Isabella even reached the courtyard. She hesitated at the archway, her steps slowing as the sharp scent of gunpowder hit her nose.

Out on the training range, Leo stood with Riccardo, Matteo, and their father. A few of the men—older, hardened soldiers of the DeLuca famiglia—were lined up, handing them fresh magazines, adjusting stances, critiquing with sharp Italian commands.

Leo raised his arm, his body angled with lethal precision, and fired. The bullet slammed into the center of the target. Another shot. Another perfect hit. His expression was cold, focused, every line of his body radiating control and danger.

Riccardo, beside him, smirked as his own shot landed just shy of the bullseye. Matteo adjusted his grip, frowning at his aim while one of the older men corrected him. Don DeLuca himself stood behind them, arms crossed, watching with an intensity that made Isabella’s stomach twist.

Her gaze flickered briefly across the courtyard. Valentina and Sabrina lounged on cushioned chairs beneath a sun umbrella, sipping cool drinks served by the maids. They looked like queens in their element, unaffected by the violence happening a few meters away.

Leo fired again, another perfect shot, before Riccardo muttered something that made him chuckle. But when Leo lowered his gun to reload, his eyes swept the area—and found her.

His gaze locked onto her instantly, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he didn’t move, didn’t blink. Just stared at her as though the rest of the world had gone silent.

Isabella’s heart stumbled. Her fingers twisted into the fabric of her dress, and she almost turned away. Almost. But something inside her held her in place.

Riccardo followed Leo’s line of sight and spotted her too. His lips curved into a half-smile, that teasing charm he always carried. “Well, look who came to watch.”

Valentina’s head turned sharply at that, her eyes narrowing as she spotted Isabella. Sabrina set her glass down slowly, her jaw tightening just enough to show her irritation.

But Leo didn’t care about any of them. He slid the fresh magazine into his gun, his eyes never leaving Isabella’s. Then, without a word, he raised the weapon again and fired.

The shot rang out, splitting the air. The bullet pierced dead center of the target.

A perfect aim.

Leo smirked slightly, the corner of his mouth lifting as if that bullseye had been for her. Then he finally lowered his gun, nodded at Riccardo and Matteo, and started walking toward the archway where Isabella stood.

Every step he took made her heart beat faster.

Isabella shifted under the weight of so many eyes, her instinct telling her to retreat. But before she could, Leo was there. Standing in front of her, tall, broad-shouldered, smelling faintly of gunpowder and smoke.

His hand came up—slow, deliberate—and brushed a strand of her hair back from her face. Her breath caught. His eyes were unreadable, dark and sharp, but there was something softer there, something only she seemed to see.

And then, without hesitation, he leaned down and pressed a soft peck to her lips.

It wasn’t long. It wasn’t deep.

But it was enough.

The kind of kiss that silenced the entire DeLuca courtyard.

Isabella’s cheeks flushed, her heart hammering against her ribs. She swore her knees might give way, but Leo’s presence anchored her, kept her steady.

“How did you sleep?” his voice was low, intimate, meant only for her.

She blinked up at him, stunned. “I—I slept fine.”

Leo’s mouth curved slightly, a knowing half-smile. “Good.”

Behind them, Riccardo’s smirk faltered into something closer to disbelief. Matteo raised his brows, clearly amused but wisely staying quiet.