Chapter 97: Chapter 97 She’ll break
Leonardo stood with his arms crossed, his jaw clenched tightly as he watched the doctor step out of the bedroom. She was a woman in her fifties, her expression serious yet gentle.
She had spent over an hour inside with Isabella, but now she stood in front of him, hesitating, almost as if she didn’t want to say it out loud.
"What’s wrong with her?" Leonardo asked, his voice lower than usual, rough around the edges. He didn’t like the silence. It made everything feel worse.
The doctor looked up at him slowly. "Her trauma was triggered," she said in a calm, nearly whisper-like voice. "Something must have happened... either recently or long ago. But what she just went through has reopened something painful, very deep. It’s not something physical, but... it’s just as dangerous."
Leonardo’s eyes narrowed slightly. "Trauma?" he echoed.
"She’s afraid of touch," the doctor continued quietly. "She flinches. She withdraws. Even her breath changes when someone steps too close. That’s not just fear... that’s a body that’s remembering something it once couldn’t escape from."
Leonardo didn’t say anything.
"She wouldn’t let me touch her pulse," the doctor added softly. "She only responded when I spoke gently, without moving too close. Even then... her hands were shaking. I had to sit across the room and speak as if I were talking to a child."
A bitter silence passed between them.
"She might’ve experienced something... years ago. Something that made her associate comfort or touch with danger. Maybe she was hurt by someone she trusted. I don’t know the details, but she’s been holding that pain for a very long time. Whatever happened recently... it pushed her back into that place."
Leonardo’s face was unreadable, but inside, something shattered quietly.
"She needs care," the doctor said. "Not just medicine or rest, but real care. Patience. Gentle days. People who don’t speak loudly, don’t grab her arm, don’t raise their voice or even their hand around her."
"...And if she doesn’t get it?" he asked, his voice like stone.
The doctor looked at him again, her gaze honest.
"She’ll break."
***
After the doctor left, Leonardo stood still for a long moment, as if the world around him had stopped making sense. He had always thought of her as strange... too quiet, too childish, too slow to respond sometimes, almost like a dream drifting through a world too loud for her. But now? Now he wasn’t sure if he even knew her. He didn’t understand the depth of what she had buried. The kind of pain that didn’t scream... but sat silently, shaping her life in invisible ways.
He stepped out of the hallway, pulled out his phone, and called Roman. His voice was low, steady. "I need you to investigate Isabella’s past... discreetly. I want to know everything. Where she lived. Who raised her. Who hurt her." He paused. "I want names."
He didn’t wait for questions. He ended the call and slipped the phone into his pocket.
Then quietly, he opened the door to her room.
The light was dim, casting soft shadows across the floor. The curtains were slightly pulled aside, letting the golden spill of late afternoon light warm the space like a painting. And there—on the bed—she was curled up like a child, her small hands tucked under her cheek, her hair falling like silk across the pillow.
His heart felt strange.
She looked so peaceful, but he knew better now. That peace wasn’t peace—it was exhaustion. The kind that came after your mind had been forced to carry too much, for too long.
Leonardo walked across the room with slow steps, each one feeling heavier than the last. When he reached her bed, he sat gently on the edge, careful not to wake her. For a moment, he just watched her. Her lashes were still wet from crying earlier. Her lips slightly parted, breathing soft and shallow. There was no hatred here. No bitterness. Just the quiet remnants of someone who had endured more than she could say.
And suddenly, he felt something unfamiliar twist in his chest.
Guilt?
Or maybe something else.
He reached out but stopped halfway.
He didn’t touch her.
Because now he understood—some wounds were invisible. And sometimes, care meant knowing when not to reach.
***
"Don’t cry; he chose s*x over friendship," Casper muttered under his breath with a look of pity, rubbing Alexa’s back as she continued sobbing louder than necessary. "I mean, seriously, how could he?" he added, as if he was the one who got dumped.
Alexa was crying like the world had ended, dabbing at her eyes with tissues she kept wrinkling in her fists. Her face was red and she looked more offended than heartbroken.
"Enough already," Alan snapped, his voice sharp as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I found the account that’s spreading your stupid video. I’ll send them a legal notice by tonight."
He didn’t even look at her as he said it, his tone more annoyed than concerned. He had been up since dawn trying to put out this mess and now had zero patience for her tantrums. But Alexa—of course—didn’t seem to care.
"Then tell Leo to come and make an official statement!!" she cried, grabbing a pillow and throwing it at Casper, who barely dodged it.
"Woman, I’m not the one who posted ’I’m trying to seduce a married man’ on Instagram at 2AM!" Casper shouted, nearly losing his mind.
"It wasn’t me!!" Alexa screamed back. "Someone hacked me! I’m the victim here!"
Casper snorted. "Yeah? Well maybe next time don’t actually try to seduce a married man while you’re at it!"
Alan looked like he was going to lose it completely, rubbing his temples hard. "I need a drink," he muttered under his breath, already regretting not booking a separate hotel.
"But Alexa," Alan suddenly paused, narrowing his eyes as a thought struck him, "why exactly are you asking us to force Leo to make some public statement?"
Everyone went quiet.
Even Casper, who was about to hand Alexa another tissue, froze in place.
Alan turned fully to face her now, his voice sharp and calculated. "You said your account got hacked and someone posted you’re in love with a married man and trying to seduce him... Right?" he asked slowly even though he already knew the answer. He didn’t need her to speak, it was written all over her face.. "So? Who’s the married man, Alexa?"
"I–I..." Alexa stuttered, her entire body stiffened.
S*it.