Chapter 111: Chapter 111 Does he even get tired?
She hesitated. Her small hands rose slowly, hovering in the air.
Leonardo looked down at her, eyes dark, unreadable. Then, without a word, he reached up—fingers brushing her cheek before catching a loose curl that had slipped from her veil. His knuckles grazed the soft skin under her ear, making her breath catch in her throat.
A tiny shiver ran down her spine.
She placed her hands tentatively against his chest—right over the steady beat of his heart. She could feel the firmness of the fabric under her palms, how warm he was beneath all that black.
"Closer," the photographer said quietly. "Mrs. Moretti—tilt your face up just a little more. Like you want to—"
His next words melted into the soft hush of the ocean wind.
Bella’s eyes fluttered up, her lips barely parted. For a single moment, the world felt smaller: the sway of the cruise, the cries of distant gulls, the click of the camera all fell away.
Leonardo’s thumb traced the edge of her jaw, his fingertips brushing the fine hairs near her temple. His expression stayed still—stone, calm—but his breath... just for a heartbeat... caught.
He could smell her sweet floral perfume mixed with something warm and feminine—so different from the cold sea air or the harsh leather of his everyday world. It did something sharp and unfamiliar in his chest.
Bella’s eyes sparkled up at him, full of innocent wonder. She didn’t even realize how her lips had parted, how close they were, how her fingertips dug slightly into his lapel like she might lose her balance.
She expected... something.
But just then, the photographer’s voice snapped through the air—too bright, too sudden.
"Perfect! Hold—right there—"
The shutter clicked again and again, freezing that unspoken moment between them like a secret no one could touch.
When it was over, Leonardo’s hand dropped away.
He stepped back, his eyes already shuttered behind that careful coldness.
And Bella... she lowered her hands from his chest slowly, her heart still caught somewhere in her throat.
The shoot dragged on much longer than Bella expected—pose after pose, the wind teasing her veil, the sun dipping slowly toward the horizon until its gold light turned everything a dreamy pink.
By the end, her cheeks hurt from trying not to smile too much, and her legs felt like jelly inside the layers of silk and tulle. She swayed a little as she stepped back under the canopy, breathless but quietly happy.
She was just about to excuse herself to sit when someone approached with a glass of fresh orange juice, the beads of condensation dripping down the sides.
"From Mr. Moretti," the young man said politely, nodding in Leonardo’s direction.
Bella blinked, surprise flickering through her sleepy eyes. She looked at Leonardo who was standing off to the side, arms folded loosely across his chest, gaze turned away like he hadn’t done anything at all.
Her lips curved into a tiny smile. He didn’t have to do that.
She sipped the juice, the sweet coldness making her cheeks glow a little brighter.
Soon the photographer called them over one last time. He’d brought a handful of freshly printed test shots so they could choose their favorites.
Bella stood next to Leonardo, their shoulders nearly brushing as they both leaned in to look. Her eyes danced over each photo—her white dress, his dark suit, the wind in her veil, the quiet way his hand rested at her waist like they were really... married.
But her attention quickly drifted from the moment to the details. She squinted at the shadows in the corners, the slightly dull contrast, the skin tones that could be warmer.
"These look bland..." she mumbled before she could stop herself. She turned to the photographer shyly. "Could you send me the photos? I’ll... um... color grade them myself."
The photographer blinked in surprise. "Ma’am? You do editing?"
Bella’s fingers curled around her purse strap. "I... know some," she said, trying to sound casual. Her ears felt hot.
The photographer let out a light laugh, still surprised but polite. "Sure, Ma’am. I’ll send you the RAW files. Anyway, my team will touch them up later too."
Inside, he thought she was probably just a sweet hobbyist wife—someone who’d slap on a few ready-made filters or brighten the colors on her phone for fun. He didn’t think twice.
"Thank you," Bella said softly, tucking a loose curl behind her ear. She didn’t explain further.
Leonardo, standing right beside her, did not miss that spark of quiet confidence on her usually shy face. His eyes flicked to her, sharp and thoughtful.
She didn’t look like a girl who knew anything about tech. Or editing.
After the long shoot finally ended, Bella returned to her room with slow, careful steps, the heavy layers of her wedding gown replaced by a simple, soft dress. She felt like her whole body had been dipped in sunlight, salt air, and exhaustion.
Does he even get tired? she wondered, pouting a little as she replayed his calm face in her mind. All day, Leonardo had stood tall beside her—back perfectly straight, shoulders broad under that perfect black suit, eyes cold and steady like the ocean itself. Not even a single hair out of place. Meanwhile, her own hair had gotten tangled in her veil more than once.
Hmph. Of course, she thought, making a small face as she kicked off her slippers. He didn’t have to stand there wearing layers and layers of silk and beads.
She glanced at herself in the mirror. Red marks lingered on her shoulders from the gown’s weight. She pressed a finger to one with a little wince, then giggled when she realized how dramatic she looked.
After taking a long, warm bath in the small but beautiful cruise bathroom, Bella wrapped herself in a fluffy white robe and sat on the edge of the bed. The soft mattress felt like clouds under her tired limbs. Every part of her felt sore but in a good, dreamy way, like the ache that came after dancing barefoot under the stars.