Chapter 133: Chapter 133 Careless
Bella’s face brightened with a sweet smile. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and nodded shyly. "Yes..." she said softly.
Alessandro’s eyes glowed with fatherly love. He reached out and gently patted the top of her head, a rare gesture for him, but one that made Bella’s heart flutter with warmth.
And Leonardo didn’t even join dinner, which made Bella feel a bit disappointed as she went back to her room.
[TW: Violence, Torture — Some paragraphs include sensitive content. You can skip those parts and continue reading when you see "TW: end."]
Far away from the warm dinner table where Bella sat unaware, Leonardo was in his private underground basement — a cold, hidden chamber beneath a different property. The walls were soundproof, the smell of metal and antiseptic mixed with something far fouler.
He stood tall under the harsh single light, wearing a crisp black shirt with the sleeves rolled up, white surgical gloves stretched tight over his large hands. His sharp eyes looked almost dead except for the cold glint when he lowered his gaze to the man tied down in front of him.
Bella’s uncle — the pathetic, bloated man was bent over a metal table, his shirt ripped open, his arms bound so tightly that his wrists had turned red. His mouth was gagged but desperate squeals still slipped out like an animal being butchered.
Leonardo pressed the tip of a small, heated metal rod against the man’s back, the sizzling sound making the guards in the corner flinch. He traced careful lines, burning letters — each stroke deliberate and cruel. He hummed low under his breath, ignoring the man’s pitiful muffled screams.
"Oh... now you understand what real pain feels like, huh?" Leonardo’s voice was deep, cold — terrifying in its calmness. He paused to dip a clean rag in clear alcohol, then poured it straight over the fresh burns. The man’s body convulsed violently as the sting shot through raw flesh.
"I thought you didn’t know what pain is? After hearing how you tortured Bella..." Leonardo leaned down, his lips brushing the man’s ear. "That tiny girl... still smiling so sweetly with all the scars you gave her?" His jaw tightened. "I should cut your tongue out for every lie you told her. For every bruise. For every drop of blood."
He straightened up, breathing steadily through his nose. He ripped off his gloves and tossed them into a bin already stained red.
[TW: END]
"Roman," he called out, his voice low but enough to make the guard stand at attention. "Patch him up. I don’t want him dead yet." He gave the man’s trembling head a disgusted look. "Make sure he doesn’t lose consciousness. I have plans for this bastard later."
Roman nodded stiffly. "Understood, sir."
Leonardo turned away, unbothered by the sobbing wails echoing behind him. He pulled off his blood-specked shirt, wiping his hands with a towel. His eyes were pitch dark but the corner of his mouth twitched — a ghost of a cruel smirk.
"Let’s see how much pain your rotten body can handle... before you beg me to end it." He left the room without a glance back, footsteps calm.
***
He got into his car and drove home, wanting to see Bella — though he wasn’t sure why. The feeling unsettled him in a way he couldn’t explain.
But by the time he got there, it was already past her bedtime...
Leonardo walked up the stairs with slow, steady steps, each footfall muffled against the rich carpet of the second floor. The cold night air still clung to his shirt collar, the faint trace of disinfectant and something darker hidden under the clean scent of his cologne.
He passed by a maid, who froze mid-step, her eyes wide at the sight of him at this hour. He didn’t spare her a word — just a sharp look that sent her scurrying off down the hall like a frightened mouse.
He stopped when he reached the door to Bella’s room. His brow twitched at the sight of the door left ajar. A small thing but it scraped at his nerves. He hated doors open at night; it made him think of intruders, of threats, of careless gaps where darkness crept in.
Yet when he stepped closer, something pulled his eyes inside. Through the sliver of space, he saw a soft glow, warm lamplight spilling over her bed. The room smelled faintly of the lavender oil Clara must have given her.
He hesitated — a rare thing for him, the mafia boss who never hesitated to raise a gun. But this small, innocent room... this girl inside... always made something inside him tighten uncomfortably.
He leaned forward, peering through the gap.
Bella was curled up on the bed, hugging her new plushie tight to her chest, the edge of the blanket slipping from her shoulder. Her lashes fluttered as if she were dreaming but what caught his eye was her tablet, still on, balanced on the pillow next to her head. A soft, whimsical lullaby video was playing, the gentle piano notes drifting across the room.
He frowned — part annoyance, part something else he couldn’t name. Didn’t she care about safety? Didn’t she know how easily someone could slip in when she left herself so open?
His fingers twitched on the doorknob, torn between pushing the door wide and storming in... or simply closing it for her, like a silent guard dog standing at her threshold.
He stepped back. One last look — the plushies, the small girl tangled in her blanket, the video playing softly... then he pulled the door slowly until it clicked shut.
He stood in the dark hallway for a moment longer, jaw tight. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to see her so badly. Why her face haunted him worse than any corpse he’d ever made disappear.
Finally, he turned, the echo of his footsteps low and steady as he disappeared down the corridor.
Next day~
Bella curled up under her blanket, her arms wrapped tight around Snowball as if the plushie could chase away the dull, heavy pain of periods spreading through her lower belly. She pressed her knees up, seeking warmth. Her lips trembled as she stared at her silent phone screen, not a single notification, no photos from the photographer like she’d been waiting for so eagerly.
She felt her eyes sting, though she hated how easily they did that. Why did something so small make her chest feel heavy?
Her mind wandered, uninvited, to Leonardo to the cold look on his face these days, the way he never said much, the way he’d chosen this marriage not because he wanted her, but because Stella had run away.