Chapter 10 childish

He's…so handsome.

Leonardo sat beside her like he belonged to a magazine cover and a mafia empire at the same time. His black suit hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, his shirt crisp, and his hair slightly tousled from the long day—yet somehow still perfect. His side profile was sharp, like carved marble. Cold, emotionless… yet impossibly attractive.

Her eyes wandered lower, and that's when she noticed his hands.

He was holding the tablet with one hand, typing something with the other. His fingers were long and strong, veins prominent along the backs of his hands and crawling lightly up his wrists. Every movement was smooth, fast, focused. His nails were clean, trimmed, neat.

She didn't know why but she couldn't look away.

He looked… powerful.

Not just because of his title, or the guards, or the cold way he handled everyone. It was the way he moved—calm, certain, like nothing in the world could shake him.

Wow, she thought, cheeks warming slightly as her eyes sparkled with innocent admiration.

It was the first time she truly looked at him—not with fear, not with pressure, but with a soft curiosity.

She wasn't in love, not even close.

But a part of her, the dreamy part, couldn't help but think…

How strange it is to marry a stranger and find out he looks like a dark prince in a perfect suit.

Leonardo could feel it.

That soft, lingering stare.

He didn't need to look to know that the little bunny beside him was watching him again—this time, not out of fear or panic… but curiosity.

His fingers paused briefly on the tablet as he finally glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

Her eyes were locked onto his hands.

Seriously? he thought, a flicker of something unreadable passing through his expression. What exactly is that tiny head thinking?

She looked completely lost in thought, her lips slightly parted, her gaze following the movement of his fingers like she was mesmerized.

Leonardo was not amused.

With a slight sigh, he snapped his eyes forward and said in a firm, low tone, "Quit."

Isabella blinked, confused. Her head tilted slightly, her soft brown eyes round with innocence. "Huh?"

Leonardo didn't answer immediately. His jaw clenched slightly as he returned to his tablet, pretending to focus.

But deep down, he was unsettled.

Why was she staring at my hands like they were magical?

Why does she look so... entertained?

And worst of all…

Why did it bother me that she looked kinda cute doing it?

"I… I'm sorry," Isabella said quickly, shrinking back a little. Then, with a tiny gasp, her eyes widened. "Oh no! I don't even know your name!" she blurted, her voice soft but genuinely troubled. "Sorry, sir… what's your name?"

Leonardo's fingers froze on the tablet.

His expression cracked.

Just slightly but enough.

He slowly turned his head toward her, his gray eyes narrowing in disbelief. She didn't know my name?

My name?

Her husband's name?

He was Leonardo Moretti. The man who ran half of City A's underworld. The man who was in every whispered rumor, whose face appeared in magazines under 'Young Billionaire CEO,' and whose name could silence a room.

And this little bunny beside him...this girl he just married was blinking up at him with wide eyes, genuinely clueless.

And she had just called him sir.

He stared at her for a full five seconds.

"…Are you serious?" he asked, voice flat.

Isabella nodded, fidgeting with her fingers nervously. "Uhm… yes?"

Leonardo blinked once.

This was his wife.

His wife.

And she didn't know his name.

He leaned his head back slightly, exhaling like a man being personally attacked by fate.

"…Leonardo," he finally said, eyes still narrowed.

"Ooohhh," Isabella whispered like she had just learned the name of some rare gemstone. "That's a really cool name, sir—I mean, Leonardo! Sorry!"

Leonardo stared at the ceiling of the car like he was silently asking the universe why.

Childish. Distracted. And now, clueless.

Only she dared.

Leonardo sat in silence, still holding his tablet, though he'd long stopped reading the glowing text on it. His sharp gaze stayed on the innocent creature beside him—who was now humming softly under her breath and looking out the window like she hadn't just shattered the most basic rule of the mafia world.

She had called him Leonardo.

Not Mr. Moretti.

Not Sir.

Not Boss.

Just… Leonardo. Like it was the most normal thing in the world.

No one did that.

Not his men, not his rivals, not even his closest allies. His name was spoken with caution, reverence, or fear. And yet… this bunny-faced girl, with round eyes and soft cheeks, said it so casually, so warmly, that it echoed in his head long after she'd turned away.

Leonardo.

From her, it sounded like something else entirely.

He should've corrected her.

He should've told her to address him properly. That there were rules. That even as his wife, she didn't get to be familiar like that.

But he didn't.

Instead, he sat there, arms crossed, jaw tight, glaring out the window like it was the sky's fault.

The black car rolled to a slow stop before an ornate iron gate, which silently slid open with a mechanical hum. Isabella, still peeking curiously through the window, found herself holding her breath as the car entered.

It was night now.

But the darkness didn't hide the beauty—it highlighted it.

Soft landscape lighting glowed along the edges of the long stone-paved driveway, illuminating the path in a gentle golden hue. Tall trees lined both sides, their trunks subtly lit from below, casting long shadows across the lawn. The lights weren't harsh, they were warm, elegant, carefully placed to make everything look magical rather than showy.

The moment they passed the first bend in the road, Isabella's eyes widened.

A sprawling garden stretched across the lawn, glowing beneath the low garden lights. Rows of flowers bathed in amber and white light swayed gently in the night breeze. Roses, lilies, tulips—each bloom looked like it had been painted with moonlight. The flower beds were perfectly arranged, and the grass looked soft enough to sleep on.

It felt like entering a dream.

And then she saw the villa.

Leonardo's private mansion rose from the hill like a modern palace. Painted a deep forest green, it seemed to blend into the night, but the soft lighting that climbed its walls made it glow with quiet power. Golden light poured from the arched windows, and the entire structure looked rich and serene like the kind of home powerful men ruled from in silence.

Nothing was loud. Nothing flashy.

Everything whispered wealth, control, and elegance.