Chapter 70: Chapter 70 I’m smarter than him
After the plane took off, Isabella felt surprisingly fine.
The fear that had squeezed her chest earlier was gone now.
But what surprised her more was that Leonardo didn’t go back to his own seat.
He stayed right beside her.
Still.
Silent.
And so serious.
She sat there, legs crossed, hugging her bag, glancing at him from the corner of her eye.
He was calm as ever, his posture straight, fingers resting on his knee, eyes fixed ahead like he was guarding the entire sky.
And Isabella was bored but also... scared to talk to him.
Her brain argued for a while.
Don’t talk. He’s serious.
But I’m bored.
Do you want to die?
Maybe. I’ll risk it.
She cleared her throat softly.
"Sir?" she called, careful, gentle.
Leonardo turned his head slowly to look at her.
"Call me Leo," he said without blinking.
Isabella blinked fast.
"But you told me to call you ’Sir’! Right, Sir?" she said, raising both eyebrows, fluttering her long lashes innocently.
Leonardo frowned. "When?"
Her mouth dropped.
"Excuse me?! Don’t tell me you forgot!" She pointed a dramatic finger at him.
"The auction night! When we danced! I called you ’Leo’ and you told me, and I quote, ’Call me sir when we’re alone.’"
She crossed her arms, chin up, proud of her sharp memory.
"Hmph. I remember everything."
Leonardo gave her a look—half confused, half blank.
And Isabella sat back with a victorious smirk.
Well... of course he doesn’t remember. Mafia people use their hands, not their brain.
I’m a hacker. I use memory and brain cells. So obviously...
She blinked slowly.
"I’m smarter than him," she whispered under her breath.
She giggled quietly to herself, proud of her discovery.
That’s when Leonardo’s voice cut through her thoughts:
"What?"
Isabella flinched.
He was staring at her now, his expression serious, focused, like he wanted to scan her brain.
"What are you thinking about?" he asked.
And Isabella just smiled nervously, hugging her bag tighter. "N-Nothing. Just appreciating the... clouds."
He raised one brow again.
She looked away.
Leonardo watched her out of the corner of his eye.
A few minutes ago, she was acting like an excited little bunny– blinking her lashes, giggling at her own thoughts.
But now?
She was quiet.
Too quiet.
Just hugging her bag, staring out the window with her cheek resting on her hand.
Something about that sudden silence made him feel... off.
After a pause, he spoke.
"Bell."
His deep voice cut through the hush of the jet.
Isabella jumped slightly, startled, her head snapping toward him.
Her eyes were wide, round, innocent. Like a child who got caught daydreaming.
Leonardo blinked.
He had no idea why he called her that.
It just slipped out.
And now, with those soft brown eyes staring at him, he didn’t even know what to say next.
His throat felt dry. So he asked the first thing that came to mind.
"Are you hungry?"
Isabella nodded quickly, her ponytail bouncing a little with the motion.
She suddenly looked like a hopeful bunny again.
"I didn’t have breakfast," she said in a small voice, like she’d been trying to hide that fact the whole morning.
Leonardo didn’t comment.
He just picked up the small tablet beside him and called someone through the in-flight system. "Bring food."
Then he ended the call like it was nothing.
But Isabella’s eyes lit up.
She smiled brightly and softly as if he had just done something heroic.
She hugged her bag tighter and whispered,
"Thank you..."
Leonardo didn’t respond.
But he looked out the window...
And for some reason, he felt lighter.
Leonardo looked at her again, frowning slightly.
"You can put down your bag, you know," he said, his voice low.
Isabella blinked, startled. She hadn’t even realized she was still hugging it.
"Oh... um..." she looked down, embarrassed.
The truth was when she felt uneasy or awkward, she always hugged something.
Whether it was her plushies at home or her laptop bag now, it made her feel safe.
She hesitated, then slowly placed it down beside her seat.
Just as she did, the flight attendant returned, rolling in a sleek trolley of food. Her heels tapped sharply against the floor, and her eyes landed straight on Isabella.
She glared.
Isabella sat up straight, confused. What did I do now? she thought.
The woman didn’t say a word to her.
Instead, she turned toward Leonardo and gave him a bright, sugary smile.
"Mr. Moretti," she purred, as if his name tasted like chocolate. "I brought your meal selection."
Leonardo gave a short nod.
The flight attendant reached down to the trolley, bending extra low to lift a covered plate.
Her uniform shifted, and her cleavage was clearly on display, intentionally so.
Isabella blinked.
Was that necessary? she thought, eyes narrowing slightly.
The woman moved with slow, exaggerated elegance, placing Leonardo’s plate on the small inbuilt table that folded out neatly from the side of his seat.
Then she straightened and reached for Isabella’s plate...only this time, her hands were faster, less graceful.
She didn’t even look at her.
Isabella took the plate politely anyway, offering a soft, "Thank you..."
No reply.
The woman smiled once more only for Leonardo, then turned and walked off, swaying a bit too much.
Isabella stared at her retreating back.
Then muttered under her breath,
"I really don’t like her."
Leonardo didn’t respond, but his eyes flicked sideways to her for a moment.
And though he didn’t smile...
There was a small glint in his eyes.
Isabella started eating and felt happy for her stomach.
There was soft buttered bread, warm creamy pasta with mushrooms, and a small bowl of thick soup with herbs. A little plate of golden fries was on the side, and a mini glass of orange juice sat beside it.
She took one bite of pasta and smiled.
Then a spoon of soup, warm and full of flavor and her shoulders relaxed.
She tried the fries and made a soft sound of happiness. Everything tasted good.
On the other side, Leonardo ate elegantly.
He used his fork and knife perfectly. He didn’t rush. Every bite was calm, his hands steady, movements quiet.
He had the same meal but somehow, the way he ate it made it look more serious, like he was in a formal dinner.
Isabella peeked at him from time to time, chewing slowly when he looked her way.
But inside, her heart was full.
Her stomach was finally happy.