Chapter 312 Pain

Chapter 312: Chapter 312 Pain


His gaze dropped briefly to her lips as she spoke again, explaining a few technical details. He tried to focus, but his mind was already somewhere else—on the fact that the warehouse she had found wasn’t just any base. It was one of Pablo’s.


The very man who had dared to threaten his family.


Leo’s expression darkened slightly. Perfect, he thought coldly. I’ll blow every single one of them to dust.


He looked at Bella again—her innocent face, her calm voice and the contrast burned inside him. She didn’t even know what she had just handed him.


He stood slowly, closing his tablet. "You did well," he said in a low voice. "Very well."


Bella smiled faintly, her heart fluttering from the unexpected praise.


He turned toward the window, hands in his pockets, eyes sharp as the city stretched before him. "You can go now," he said softly.


Bella nodded, gathering her things and walking out.


As the door closed behind her, Leo’s calm expression melted into something far darker.


He looked down at the coordinates again, his jaw tightening. "Pablo’s warehouse," he muttered to himself.


And then a slow, dangerous smile appeared on his lips.


"Time to end this."


⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹


Later, after leaving the company, Bella finally let out a long, happy sigh. She felt light, as if the entire morning had been some big adventure that ended in victory. Leo hadn’t stopped her when she asked to leave, and that alone was enough to make her heart flutter with quiet satisfaction.


Once she reached the mall, she headed straight for the restroom. She changed out of her work disguise and into a light yellow dress that brushed gently against her knees. The fabric was airy, with little white buttons down the front, and it made her look like a piece of sunlight had turned into a girl. She smiled faintly at her reflection in the mirror, fixing a loose strand of hair behind her ear before stepping out.


The mall café wasn’t crowded at this hour, just a few people scattered around, the soft hum of quiet conversations and coffee machines filling the air. Bella found a small corner table near the window and ordered her favorite hot chocolate and a slice of pastry.


When the cup arrived, steam curled gently upward, carrying the sweet scent of cocoa. She cupped it in both hands, letting the warmth sink into her palms. A small smile lingered on her lips as she took a sip; the taste was creamy, rich, and comforting.


The world outside was bright but calm, sunlight filtering through the glass, the faint rustle of leaves just barely reaching her ears through the open window. She rested her chin on her hand, her eyes half-lidded, watching the slow rhythm of people walking by.


So peaceful, she thought.


After finishing her pastry and hot chocolate, Bella felt her mood lighter than ever.


Once she reached home, she dropped her bag on the couch and stretched with a happy sigh. "No more work for today," she told herself with a small grin. For once, she didn’t want to open her laptop or look at a single line of code. She wanted peace—the kind that only existed in soft afternoons when time seemed to slow down.


So she picked up her guitar and walked out to the garden behind the house. The grass was cool beneath her feet, still damp from the morning dew. The air smelled of earth and roses, and the garden shimmered faintly in the afternoon light.


"Hey, little one," she whispered as a tiny chipmunk scurried from behind a flower pot. Its fur was soft and golden-brown, its round body wiggling as it came closer. Bella smiled and tore a small piece of biscuit she had brought along, placing it gently on the ground. The chipmunk nibbled eagerly, its tiny paws clutching the crumbs, and Bella giggled quietly. "You’re getting chubbier each day... if you keep eating like this, you’ll need a treadmill soon," she teased softly.


After feeding her little garden friends, she sat down on the grass, legs folded comfortably, her guitar resting on her lap. The wind was mild and cool, brushing against her hair, making the flowers around her sway like they were dancing. She ran her fingers over the strings, letting a soft melody fill the air—something gentle and wistful that matched the rhythm of the breeze.


As the notes drifted through the garden, sunlight flickered between the leaves, scattering across her face. She closed her eyes for a moment, just listening to the birds, to the wind, to the quiet harmony that surrounded her.


For that brief, perfect moment, Bella forgot the world entirely.


⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹


"You’re suffering from a second-degree burn! Why did you only come now? Do you have any idea this can leave a permanent mark on your skin?!" The doctor’s voice was stern, echoing in the small clinic room. His brows were furrowed, clearly frustrated as he examined the deep, angry red burn along Freya’s forearm.


Freya sat quietly on the edge of the clinic bed, her hands folded on her lap. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back tears. Her arm throbbed painfully, every heartbeat sending a wave of sting through the raw skin. The air smelled faintly of antiseptic, sharp and cold.


"I... I was busy with work," she whispered softly, her voice trembling. She couldn’t tell him the truth that her employer had thrown boiling soup at her during one of her tantrums. She didn’t want to cause trouble or lose her job; she needed the money.


The doctor sighed, shaking his head. "Busy? This isn’t something you can ignore, young lady. You should have come immediately."


Freya nodded silently, her lashes wet. The truth pressed against her chest, heavy and suffocating. I was scared... she wanted to say, but she couldn’t.


She remembered Alexa’s furious face, the way her eyes blazed when she had accused her of trying to poison her. Freya had spent the whole morning carefully preparing that soup—filled with vitamins and herbs that were supposed to be good for pregnancy. But when Alexa tasted it, she had snapped, shouting that Freya was plotting against her and flung the bowl straight at her arm.


The memory made Freya’s throat tighten. I didn’t even cry then... I only ran to the bathroom, she thought bitterly.