The bedroom door opened with a soft click, the sound swallowed imdiately by the hush of the space beyond. Bella stepped inside first. Then stopped completely.
"Oh..." she breathed, the word escaping like a quiet prayer.
The room was warmth itself, luxurious without being ostentatious. At its center sat a large, circular bed draped in layers of cream and taupe linen, the fabric soft and inviting, piled with blankets that looked impossibly plush. The headboard was a sweeping arc of dark, polished wood, its surface catching the glow of hidden lighting. Around the periter of the ceiling, soft golden LEDs were recessed into the panels, casting a warm, ambient light that felt less like electricity and more like captured sunset.
To the right, floor to ceiling glass doors opened onto a wide balcony. Beyond them, the mountain unfolded endlessly, dense forest stretching across steep slopes, dark green pines swaying in slow, hypnotic waves.
Bella moved toward the balcony as if pulled by an invisible thread. She pushed the glass door open just a crack, and cold, pure mountain air slipped inside, curling around her face, lifting strands of her hair. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. The scent of pine and damp earth filled her lungs.
For a mont, there was only peace.
Then the door behind her opened again and the atmosphere shifted instantly.
Leo stepped inside and shut the door with a force that was barely controlled. The click was no longer soft. It was final. Sharp.
"F*cking Nicolas," he muttered, the words ground out between his teeth.
Bella turned slowly, her back now against the cool fra of the balcony door.
Leo strode past her, one hand dragging through his hair in a rough, agitated motion. He paced once across the room, twice, a caged energy radiating from every line of his body. His jaw was a hard, unforgiving line.
"Who greets soone’s wife like that?" His voice was low, but it cut through the quiet like a blade. "Who the fu*k does that?"
Bella leaned back against the doorfra, arms loose at her sides. She watched him pace, her expression soft but steady.
"He hugged ," she said gently. "It wasn’t a kidnapping."
Leo stopped mid stride. Turned to face her fully.
"That wasn’t a normal hug," he said flatly, his eyes dark with barely leashed fury.
Bella’s lips pressed together, fighting the smallest twitch at the corner of her mouth. "Hazel said he hugs everyone like that."
"I don’t give a sht what Hazel said." His voice snapped, quiet but razor edged. "He’s always been like this. Too comfortable. Too familiar. Too fcking smug." Each word was a separate strike, sharp and precise. "He knows exactly what he’s doing."
He exhaled harshly, a sound of pure, frustrated disgust, and dropped onto the edge of the bed. His elbows ca down on his knees, hands clasped tightly together. His back was rigid, shoulders bunched with tension.
Bella walked toward him slowly, her footsteps soft on the plush carpet. She stopped directly in front of him, close enough that the toes of her shoes nearly touched his. He had to tilt his head up to look at her.
"You don’t like him," she said quietly, more observation than question.
"I don’t trust him," Leo corrected. His voice was stable now, but the anger was still beneath it, banked but not extinguished.
She looked down at him, at the rigid set of his shoulders, the hard line of his jaw, the storm still turning in his gray eyes. Her voice was calm, patient. "He didn’t do anything wrong."
Sothing flickered across his face. Disbelief. Frustration.
"He touched you," Leo said slowly, his voice dropping to sothing quieter, more dangerous. "Like you were his. In front of ." His eyes t hers, and the intensity there made her breath catch. "That’s not nothing, Bella."
"Please calm down," Bella said softly. She reached out and cradled his face in both hands, pulling him gently against her chest. Her fingers threaded into his thick, dark hair, stroking in slow, soothing passes. "I don’t want you stressed over this. It’s not worth it."
Leo didn’t pull away, but his body remained rigid, tension coiled in every muscle.
"And honestly," she continued, her voice a quiet murmur above him, "he did hug a bit... inappropriately. I felt it too." Her fingers never stopped their slow rhythm. "But I shook it off. The mont I rembered he’s Hazel’s fiancé, I let it go. It’s not worth holding onto."
For a mont, the only sound was the soft whisper of her fingers through his hair and the distant sigh of wind through the pines outside.
Then Leo pulled back just enough to look up at her.
His eyes were darker now. Not the cold, controlled darkness from before. This was sothing hotter. Sharper.
"So you do agree it was inappropriate," he said, his voice low and rough. "You felt it too."
Bella held his gaze. "Yes."
A muscle jumped in his jaw. He looked away for a second, his teeth grinding. Then his eyes snapped back to hers, blazing.
"Then how the hell can you just shake it off?" His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut deep. "How can you let it go so easily? He put his hands on you. He touched you like..." He stopped, exhaling harshly through his nose, dragging a hand down his face. "I don’t understand how she ended up with soone like him. I don’t understand how Hazel—Hazel—looks at that rat faced smug bastard and thinks, yes, this is the man I want to marry."
Bella blinked. "Rat faced?"
"His face," Leo said flatly, "is the shape of a rodent. A well dressed, overconfident rodent."
A tiny, unexpected bubble of laughter rose in Bella’s chest. She pressed her lips together, fighting it.
Leo noticed. His eyes narrowed. "You think I’m joking."
"I think," she said carefully, "you’re being a little dramatic."
"I am not dramatic," he said, the words clipped. "I am accurate."
Bella bit the inside of her cheek. "Accurate."
"Yes." He leaned back slightly, arms crossing over his chest. "His nose is too long. His smile is smug. His hair looks like he spends forty minutes making it look effortless. And he hugged my wife like he was auditioning for a role she didn’t agree to."
The laughter threatened to escape again. Bella pressed her hand over her mouth.
Leo stared at her. "You’re laughing."
"I’m not."
"Your pretty eyes are laughing."
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