Chapter 123: Chapter 123 Investigation report
Leonardo’s eyes narrowed just slightly. His fingers drummed once against the armrest before he leaned forward and gestured for the file.
Roman stepped closer, placing the heavy folder on the desk with a small thud. "Sir, everything you asked for. Her schooling, her family, Jessica’s dealings, her bank records, every known connection. And... her medical files too."
Leonardo didn’t answer right away. He flipped the cover open, his cold eyes scanning the first few lines like he was reading a death sentence.
Roman cleared his throat, hesitating. "Boss... you should know. There’s... a lot in there you might not expect."
Leonardo’s jaw clenched, a tiny crack in his stone mask. But his voice stayed level.
"Leave it. Get out."
Roman gave a respectful nod. "Yes, sir."
As the door clicked shut behind him, the study fell silent again, only the quiet rustle of paper filled the space as Leonardo turned the first page.
The first thing that caught his eyes was the photo clipped inside the file — a girl of seventeen, so thin her hoodie looked three sizes too big, sleeves swallowing her small hands. Her hair was tied back in a messy knot, and she stared at the camera with wide, tired eyes that didn’t quite meet the lens.
Leonardo stared at that photo longer than he meant to.
So that’s what you looked like, Bella...
He flipped to the first page, his eyes sweeping over the basic details —
Name: Isabella White.
Parents: Father Deceased, Mother- Jessica Smith
Guardian: Maternal Uncle.
Education: Homeschool certificate. ( No record of any official schooling beyond that. )
A line of tension formed between his brows as he read. She’d spent most of her teenage years locked away in that small, old house — the neighbors’ testimonies were there in stiff, cold sentences that punched harder than any bullet wound he’d ever taken.
"She rarely came out. Mostly only to visit the library down the street."
"Sometimes I’d see bruises when she thought no one was watching..."
Leonardo’s fingers curled tight on the page as he turned it. The next part hit harder.
A grainy black-and-white photo of a hospital hallway. Bella’s small body slumped in a wheelchair, hospital gown hanging off her thin frame. Blood stained the blanket tucked around her.
He swallowed. His eyes felt hot, but his face stayed stone.
One witness report said everything:
"We heard crying. When her uncle left for work, we found her bleeding in the yard. We called the ambulance. She was so thin — skin and bones. She couldn’t even look at the food they gave her in the hospital. Just kept whispering she’d be good if she could go home. Her uncle discharged her that night. Beat her again."
Leonardo pressed his thumb into the edge of the paper until it almost tore.
More notes: Malnourished. Traumatized. Severe trust issues. Fear of loud voices. Flinching from raised hands. Wouldn’t speak if too many people were present. Always apologizing. Always trying to be "good."
A man who’d seen blood his whole life. Death. Betrayal. Torture.
Yet his gut twisted in a way it never had before. He closed the file for a moment, staring at the wall with that small, broken photo burned into his mind.
*****
Isabella woke up the next morning to a soft stream of sunlight slipping through her curtains. For once, her head didn’t feel so heavy. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand, and breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
She felt... lighter. Not happy — not really but lighter. Like some of the old shadows in her chest had loosened their claws for just a moment.
She got up and opened her closet, her eyes warming when she saw her favorite clothes hanging neatly in a row. She chose one of her soft, cozy outfits — a pretty top with sleeves long enough to hide the faint, pale scars on her arms. She’d grown to like her new clothes here, but she still hated the tiny dresses that showed too much. She didn’t want anyone to see the marks that were only hers.
She traced one scar on her hip through the fabric. It was almost gone now — her body looked softer, fuller, healthier than when she’d been eighteen and too scared to eat. But some scars never disappeared, not really. She knew that.
When she finished dressing, she opened her door and was surprised to see one of the maids standing there, holding her suitcase. Bella blinked, then gave her a shy smile.
"Thank you..." she said softly, taking the suitcase as maid Left.
The moment the door clicked shut behind her, Bella hurried over to her bed. She unzipped the suitcase and reached inside, her heart giving a small, silly flutter when her fingers brushed over soft fur.
She carefully pulled out Snowball– her newest plushie and then Berry and Moonbeam, setting them all in a neat row on her pillow. She sat cross-legged on the edge of her bed, her fingers gently patting each of them, like they were her own little family waiting patiently for her to come back.
"It’s okay," she whispered to them, voice trembling just a bit. "I’m okay."
Then Bella tucked Snowball, Berry, and Moonbeam back on her bed and made her way downstairs for breakfast. She felt shy but wanted to see Jay Jay — she missed talking to him, and she really wanted to tell him about Scarlett and everything that had happened.
But when she stepped into the living room, she froze mid-step.
Her eyes widened. The back of a tall man stood facing her–broad shoulders, dark hair, the way he carried himself in that black suit... for a heartbeat she thought it was Leonardo. Her heart gave a small, panicked thump in her chest.
The man turned when he heard her footsteps. And Bella almost squeaked in surprise. It wasn’t Leo at all, though the resemblance made her mouth hang open for a second.
His face was more mature, sharp, serious eyes just a shade darker than Leo’s, with neat dark hair brushed back. He looked powerful without even trying, like the world bent politely to make way for him. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit, a ring on his finger catching the morning light. But what startled Bella most was that he didn’t look old at all — if anything, he looked like he was in his mid-thirties, with only the faintest lines around his eyes that made him look even more refined.