The floors were black marble with deep gray veining, and tall windows were covered with long, thick curtains. The walls were painted a rich charcoal, accented with hints of gold. A massive bed sat in the center black sheets, dark frame, and matching pillows. One side of the room held a sleek glass desk with expensive tech, while the other had a built-in shelf of dark books, a few neatly placed objects, and a locked drawer.
It was cold. Minimal. Elegant.
And so him.
She stepped in slowly, hugging her arms around herself, her voice barely above a whisper. "This is... your room?"
Leonardo finally turned to look at her.
"No," Leonardo said flatly, slipping off his suit jacket and placing it on the back of a sleek chair. His voice was as dry as ever, his expression unreadable as he looked around the room.
"This is my brother's room."
Isabella blinked. "Huh?"
He didn't look at her as he unbuttoned his cuffs, speaking without emotion. "I took it while he was away. He's not getting it back."
Isabella paused at the doorway, confused for a moment… then slowly nodded.
"Oh…" she whispered, lowering her eyes. "Okay…"
And just like that...she believed him.
Because why wouldn't she? His tone was so convincing. He didn't even blink. And it did feel a little dramatic and mysterious for someone like Leonardo. Surely someone as terrifying as him wouldn't sleep in a room so… castle-like.
Maybe his real room is even darker? she thought, completely buying into the idea.
She quietly stepped inside and glanced around with fresh wonder.
In her mind, this was now "his brother's" room.
Leonardo was… speechless.
She actually believed that?
He'd said it so casually...this is my brother's room..thinking she'd at least question it, raise an eyebrow, maybe even glare a little. But instead, Isabella had simply nodded, eyes wide and innocent, like it made perfect sense.
Was she really that clueless?
Or was she pretending to be?
He couldn't tell. And honestly, he didn't want to waste time figuring it out. With a silent exhale, he turned away and walked to his wardrobe, pulling it open and selecting a fresh change of clothes.
Behind him, Isabella remained frozen where she was. She sat stiffly on the edge of the expensive leather sofa, her hands resting on her lap like they didn't know where to go. Her eyes nervously scanned the room, then dropped again. She looked so out of place in the sleek, dark elegance of the space. So small. So unsure.
She had never been in a man's room before. Let alone a man like him.
Let alone her husband.
While she quietly fought embarrassment, Leonardo headed into the bathroom and took a quick shower. The sound of running water was the only thing she could hear, and she sat there, unmoving, like a guest in someone else's life.
A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened with a soft click, and Leonardo stepped out. His damp hair clung slightly to his forehead, a black towel in his hand as he dried it with smooth, practiced motions. He wore a fitted black t-shirt and sweatpants...simple, but somehow even more intimidating in his casual state.
His gray eyes immediately landed on her.
Still sitting.
Still not changed.
Still awkwardly staring at her hands.
He frowned.
"You're not changing?" he asked, sounding mildly annoyed.
Isabella jolted, startled by his voice. Her body flinched the tiniest bit before she looked up at him, eyes wide and round like a frightened deer caught in headlights.
Leonardo paused. She was so easily startled. So quiet. So soft. Like a bunny.
A very lost, confused bunny.
"I—I…" she stammered, shrinking under his gaze.
He sighed. "Speak clearly," he said flatly, rubbing the towel along the back of his neck.
"I-I don't have clothes," she finally whispered, eyes dropping back to the floor. She looked like she was being scolded, her voice barely audible, her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment.
Leonardo paused. He didn't say anything for a moment, just stared at her.
Of course she didn't.
Jessica had thrown her into this marriage with nothing but a dress and a contract.
He shook his head slightly, walked back to the wardrobe, and pulled out a soft, oversized black t-shirt and a pair of lounge shorts.
Without a word, he tossed them to her.
She fumbled to catch them against her chest, looking up at him with surprised eyes.
"Here," he said. "Wear this for tonight. I'll have someone bring you proper clothes tomorrow."
"Th-thank you…" she mumbled.
He didn't respond. Just turned away and closed the curtains with a sharp pull, muttering under his breath,
One night and she's already turning this place upside down.
Isabella quietly slipped into the attached bathroom, her heart still fluttering from how tense everything felt. She quickly changed into the oversized black t-shirt and soft shorts Leonardo had given her. The shirt hung past her knees, and the waist of the shorts was tied tight to stop them from falling. She looked at herself in the mirror, tugging the sleeves nervously.
They smell like him… she thought shyly, cheeks turning warm.
When she stepped out, she noticed the room was dim and quiet—except for the low, sharp voice coming from the balcony.
Leonardo was outside, standing with one hand on the balcony railing, his other gripping his phone tightly. His voice was low but laced with anger. Though she couldn't hear the words, the tension in his posture said enough...shoulders stiff, jaw locked, and hand clenched so tightly around the phone it looked like it might snap.
His broad frame was bathed in moonlight, shadows wrapping around him like a silent storm.
Isabella froze, holding her breath for a moment. She didn't dare speak.
Quietly, she tiptoed back to the sofa, curling up on one side like a kitten, careful not to make a sound.
She didn't know what was going on, but she knew one thing...when he was like that, it was best not to be seen.
As she sat there in his clothes, the sleeves falling past her hands, the hem of the shirt brushing her bare knees, her hair still slightly messy from earlier… she looked tiny. Fragile. And oddly adorable like someone who didn't belong in a place this cold, yet somehow softened it just by sitting there.
She curled into the corner of the couch, watching him through the glass door quietly.
Scary…she thought.
She hugged her knees gently.