Chapter 322: Chapter 322 Irritated
He slipped his hand under the blanket, careful and slow, resting it above her abdomen. His palm was warm, his touch firm yet cautious. He started to rub in small circles, just enough pressure to ease the tension.
Bella gasped softly at the sudden warmth, her lashes fluttering open for a moment. "Leo... what are you doing?" she asked, her voice weak but flustered.
"Massage," he said simply, his tone deep, calm, and certain as if the word alone was law.
Her heart skipped. He was so close she could smell the faint trace of his cologne, the warmth of his skin, the quiet strength in the way his fingers moved.
"Does it help?" he asked quietly, his eyes fixed on her face.
She nodded slowly, her voice small. "A little..."
"Good." His thumb brushed along her waist before resuming the gentle circles, slower this time. The tension in her muscles began to fade, replaced by a heavy, pleasant warmth that made her relax completely.
Leo’s eyes softened, and for a long while he didn’t speak. He only watched her quietly, the faint color that returned to her cheeks, the way her lashes trembled as the pain slowly began to fade. Each little sigh she made eased something deep inside him.
When her breathing steadied, he shifted slightly and slipped down beside her. The mattress dipped under his weight, and the faint rustle of the blanket filled the room. Without a word, he drew her a little closer and placed his palm gently over her stomach again, his touch slow and warm.
"How are you feeling..." he murmured again, his voice low and husky near her ear.
"Nice..." Bella mumbled sleepily, her lips curving into a small, drowsy smile.
He smiled faintly at that, still rubbing small circles over her abdomen. He didn’t stop, not even when she began drifting back to sleep. His movements stayed careful, patient, almost rhythmic, each stroke meant to soothe, not disturb.
She wasn’t sure how many times he had whispered that question, or how many times his hand had brushed gently across her skin, but every time she heard his voice, her heart felt warm. It was rare to see him this quiet, this tender — no walls, no sharp tone, just him.
Meanwhile, Leo was far from calm. He was focused, yes, serious about keeping her warm and comfortable, but he couldn’t deny the strange feeling that kept running through him. Her body was so soft — impossibly soft — beneath his hand. The heat of her skin seeped into his palm, and the small rise and fall of her breath brushed against his wrist like a heartbeat.
How can anyone be this soft, he thought, his gaze lowering to her sleeping face. His large hand covered almost all of her lower stomach, and the contrast struck him — his hard, calloused palm against her smooth, delicate skin. She felt like cotton, like something fragile he could crush without meaning to, and yet he couldn’t stop touching her.
He rubbed her gently again and again, his thumb brushing along the curve of her waist. Every time she sighed softly, something inside him melted further. He’d never thought he could find peace in something so simple — the quiet of the night, her soft warmth under his hand, and the cute reminder that this small woman, with her messy hair and sleepy face, was his whole calm in the chaos.
Finally, he exhaled and whispered near her ear, "Sleep well, bunny."
And even in her half-dreaming state, Bella smiled faintly, curling closer to him, trusting that in his arms nothing could ever hurt her.
⊹₊˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧˚₊⊹
Five days later, Bella’s life felt like something out of a fairytale. Everything about her days had softened — Leo’s moods, his words, even his touch. He had become so unexpectedly gentle that sometimes she caught herself wondering if she was dreaming. He would bring her breakfast, check if she had eaten properly, and scold her only when she stayed up too late with her laptop. And each morning, when she woke, he was already there beside her, pretending to read something on his phone but clearly waiting for her to open her eyes.
Today, however, that calm fairytale had turned into chaos.
Scarlett had organized a private party for their hacker group, calling it a "friendly team meet." Bella, excited, had begged Leo to let her go, assuring him again and again that it was just a casual friend get-together. He had stared at her for a long moment, not saying anything, then sighed because he could never say no to those wide, innocent eyes.
And now here he was, standing downstairs, his patience thinning with every passing minute.
From the moment Scarlett had arrived, everything had gone downhill. That loud, confident woman had swept Bella away like a storm. One moment Bella was laughing with him over dessert, and the next she was being dragged upstairs by Scarlett, who insisted they "needed some girl time."
He could still hear their laughter ringing from behind the closed door of Bella’s old room. The locked door.
Leo’s jaw tightened. His hand slipped into his pocket, fingers tapping against his phone.
He was trying, really trying, not to storm up there. But his mind kept spiraling. Why did she need to lock it? What are they even doing in there? Why was that woman shouting about ’girls’ pride’?
He leaned against the wall, his expression dark. He had agreed to let her go because she had looked at him with that soft, pleading gaze, like she could melt ice just by blinking.
Now he regretted it.
The longer Bella stayed upstairs with that loud woman, the thinner his patience wore. He ran a hand down his face and pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found the one person he could vent his irritation on.
Jay.
He hit call.
The line rang twice before his brother’s groggy voice came through. "Bro? It’s past midnight here. What—"
"Why haven’t your planes landed yet?" Leo cut him off, his tone clipped and low, irritation clear in every syllable.
There was a pause, then the confused sound of rustling. "What—my planes? What are you even—bro, that’s not something I can control! Do you want me to jump out mid-air and push the wings myself?!" Jay shouted, exasperated.
Leo rolled his eyes, leaning back against the wall. "I don’t care."
"You never care!" Jay snapped. "Every time you call, it’s either to scold me or complain. What did I do this time?"