Author POV-

The sun had barely stretched its golden fingers across the Romeno Mansion when the first cry of battle rang out.

“I don’t want to gooooooo!”

Bella’s voice thundered through the hallway with all the drama of a Shakespearian heroine facing execution. Her arms were crossed, her face twisted in theatrical agony, and her unicorn pajamas were rumpled from all the sofa-diving she’d done to avoid brushing her teeth.

The drama in her tiny voice could win her an Oscar—if they gave Oscars to 5-year-olds.

Iris, perfectly composed in a beige blouse and silk trousers, stood with one brow arched. “Bella.”

The tone alone could make grown men quiver.

“But Mummy, listen! School is a trap! A prison! A horrible, awful place where dreams go to die!” Bella wailed, throwing herself onto the plush carpet like a fallen warrior. “They make us sit! And listen! And they keep giving me numbers. Numbers, Mumma. FRACTIONS.”

Iris knelt, gently brushing Bella’s unruly curls behind her ears. “Bella, darling, you’re five. You’re not doing calculus.”

“It feels like calculus! Mrs. Tern made me do a whole sheet! What am I going to do with 1/3 of a muffin? I want the whole muffin!”

Suppressing a chuckle, Iris straightened. “Do you remember what we talked about?”

Bella glanced up from the floor. Iris’s expression had shifted: the queen had taken her throne. Stern. Regal. Unshakeable.

Bella stood with the speed and obedience of a soldier in inspection. “Fine,” she grumbled, arms still crossed. “But only because you're pretty when you're mad.”

Iris raised an eyebrow. “Flattery won't save you. Go get dressed.”

The black Romeno SUV waited outside. Leon, in his usual tailored black suit, stood like a dark statue of serenity. He barely blinked when the door opened and Bella marched out like she was heading to the guillotine.

“Good morning, Princess,” Leon said, voice calm and low.

Bella narrowed her eyes, stomping past him. “Morning. Or whatever.”

Leon blinked. “Rough morning?”

“I am being forced to do math. Do you think it’s fair to make someone learn fractions before breakfast?”

“Clearly a human rights violation,” Leon agreed, opening the door.

She clambered in. “You're lucky you're handsome. Or I’d yell at you, too.”

Leon smiled faintly and shut the door.

By the time she got to class, Bella was already drained.

“Miss Romeno, please take your seat,” her teacher called sweetly.

Bella muttered, “Tyrant,” under her breath and slumped into her chair.

The day dragged.

Fractions. Spelling. Sharing. More fractions.

And lunch didn’t even have cookies.

School end time-

The final bell rang like a trumpet of freedom. Bella burst from the school building, her tiny backpack flung like a grenade toward Leon.

He caught it, chuckling. “Rough day?”

“I aged fifteen years.”

She grabbed his hand as they walked down the steps.

That’s when she saw them.

Across the street, the university gates stood open, and a group of girls leaned against the wall, eyes glued to Leon like moths to flame.

Cake-faced witches.

Near the fence like cats watching prey. Eyes locked on Leon. Giggles. Hair tosses. Twirls.

Bella had noticed them before. They always stared. And giggled. And whispered. Leon always said to ignore it.

But not today.

“He is so handsome…”

“Is he single?”

“I’d hire him to guard my full body… if you know what I mean.”

Bella paused mid-step, eyes narrowing. “Ugh. They’re here again.”

Leon followed her gaze. “Who?”

“Don’t pretend you don’t see the witches,” she hissed.

“Bella…”

Bella didn't know what she meant, but her glare sharpened. She turned into a mini version of Alexander Romeno himself, eyes sharp, posture stiff, radiating death-glare energy.

Bella glare at the girls like she is giving warning 'if you have guts, try casting an evil eyes on him'

The girls quieted

“Don’t ‘Bella’ me. They were whispering about guarding their… full body. I think that’s illegal.”

Leon turned crimson. “Y-You don’t need to worry about that.”

“I’m telling Daddy.”

“No—wait—Princess—!”

Leon, clueless to the laser beams shooting from his princess’s eyes, opened the car door and helped Bella inside. He fastened her seatbelt with practiced ease, then started the engine.

The ride was quiet.

But Bella was fuming.

Time Skip – Romeno Mansion

Bella kicked open the front door of the mansion like she was storming a castle.

“FINALLY. HOME.”

The maids giggled. The guards exchanged amused glances. Her energy was magnetic.

“Hello, Princess,” Marco said without looking up from his laptop.

Lucas popped his head out of the kitchen. “She lives!”

Bella gave him a regal wave, dropped her backpack, and collapsed dramatically onto the couch.

Iris peeked from the hallway. “Bella—bathroom. Now.”

Okaaaay, Mummmaaaa,” Bella sighed like the weight of the world was on her tiny shoulders.

Bella rolled dramatically off the couch. “Motherhood is cruelty.”

In Evening -

The mansion buzzed with life.

Aris and Alexander discussed business, voices calm and commanding. Enzo flipped through patient reports. Marco typed furiously on his laptop. Domino was absorbed in a criminal psychology book—of course. Lucas shouted at his video game, totally absorbed.

And Leon?

Leon was being forced to drink not  imaginary but real tea in toy cup.

He sat cross-legged on the carpet, holding a too-small plastic cup.

“You must sip properly, Leo. You are the Duke of Biscuitland,” Bella ordered.

Leon, very serious, lifted the cup. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“You are the Duke of Biscuitland,” Bella instructed, handing him a pink cup the size of a grape.

Leon raised it solemnly. “Indeed, Your Majesty.”

She squinted at him. “You're not sipping. Sip with dignity.”

He mimed a dignified sip.

“Leo…” Bella said suddenly, voice soft.

He blinked. “Yes, Princess?”

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

Leon choked.

The teacup flew.

Bella gasped and jumped to pat his back. “Leo! Are you dying?!”

Leon started coughing so hard the cup fell from his hand. Enzo turned. Aris raised an eyebrow. Even Alexander looked up from his papers.

Enzo peeked from behind his journal. “Did she ask the question?”

Alexander chuckled. “Here it comes…”

Leon, still red, took a breath. “N-No, Princess. I don’t… have a girlfriend.”

Bella frowned. “Do you love someone?”

Leon, red-faced, took the water. “Y-Yes, Princess. I’m okay.”

“Then answer me.”

All eyes were now on Leon.

Leon swallowed. He hesitated. Then looked up. Not at everyone—but at someone.

"N-No, Princess. I don’t have a girlfriend. Nor do I… love someone.”

The room fell quiet. For just a second.

One person’s jaw clenched tightly. Their eyes darkened.

The air changed. Darkened.

Bella, blissfully unaware, folded her arms. “Good. Because today, some girls were being very weird.”

“Bella…” Iris began cautiously.

Bella, oblivious, turned to her father. “Daddy, you know some witches from the university stare at Leon. Today they were whispering weird things.”

“What things?” Iris asked.

Bella repeated every word she heard, mimicking the girls' giggles and eye-rolls. “But, Bubba, I don’t understand the last line. Why would they want Leon to guard their full body?”

The room burst into laughter.

Leon’s face turned crimson.

Bella stood on the table. “They said they wanted Leon to guard their full body!” she cried, face full of scandal. “I don’t get it, but I think it’s illegal!”

Laughter exploded.

Alexander was wheezing. Enzo face-palmed. Lucas fell off the couch.

Leon looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

Alexander chuckled, ruffling Bella’s hair. “Looks like I’ll need to assign a bodyguard for our bodyguard.”

Leon flailed. “N-No, Mr. Romeno! That’s not necessary.”

No, Daddy,” Bella said, puffing her chest. “I’ll protect Leo.”

The laughter grew louder.

“And Leo,” Bella added with gravity, “I will now find you a good life partner.”

One person’s smile vanished entirely.

Everyone laughed again.

Everyone but one.

Someone whose eyes had turned cold and still.

In night time -

After dinner, everyone retired to their rooms.

Alexander tucked Bella in, kissed her forehead, and whispered goodnight. As he stepped out, he noticed Leon standing silently outside the door.

“Leon,” Alexander said gently, “go rest. Inside this house, we’re here for Bella. You’re part of this family too.”

Leon stood quietly, arms behind his back.

“Leon,” Alexander said, pausing, “take a break. You’re not just her guard. You’re family.”

I’m fine, Mr. Romeno.”

Alexander patted his shoulder. “That’s an order.”

Leon nodded. “Thank you, sir.”

As Alexander walked away, Leon turned—and was yanked into a side room.

Slam.

A hand clamped over his mouth. Before he could reach for the knife holstered at his side, a second arm snaked around his torso, yanking him backward. His back collided with a door that creaked open just enough to swallow him whole before slamming shut behind him.

The room was pitch-black for a second. Then his back hit the wall—hard. The force stole the breath from his lungs.

His back hit the wall. A hand clamped over his mouth.

Leon froze.

He knew that touch.

His breathing slowed as he opened his eyes.

And locked onto a pair of dark, burning orbs.

He didn’t scream. He didn’t even fight.

Because he knew that touch.

His captor’s scent—familiar, earthy, and maddeningly warm—wrapped around him like smoke. Leon’s lashes fluttered open, and he came face to face with those eyes.

Dark. Commanding. Unmistakable.

Dark eyes bore into his.

“You,” the stranger growled, “what did you just say downstairs?”

Leon blinked. “W-What do you mean?”

“Rhy,” the voice drawled, deep and simmering with a quiet fury. “What the hell did you say downstairs?”

Leon swallowed. His throat was dry. “W-what do you mean?”

A strong hand slid down his side and gripped his waist, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt. Leon bit his lower lip, trying to stay composed.

“That thing you said,” the man growled, voice tightening. “That ‘you don’t love anyone’ crap. You really thought I wouldn’t hear that?”

“I…” Leon’s breath hitched. “It was just—words. I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean?” the man snapped. “You really want me to remind you who I am to you, Rhy?”

Leon’s name trembled in the air. It was barely a whisper, but when he said it like that…

The man’s hand slid upward beneath Leon’s shirt, grazing against bare skin, pressing flat against his chest where his heart hammered like a trapped bird.

The man grabbed his waist, pulling him closer. “You don’t love someone, huh?”

“I-I…”

“Do I need to remind you who I am?” His voice dropped like molten velvet. One hand slid from Leon’s waist to his chest, slipping under his shirt.

Leon’s breath hitched.

Leon gasped. “W-what are you doing?”

The man didn’t answer. He leaned in, breath fanning against Leon’s neck, warm and possessive.

“I think you’ve forgotten,” the man said lowly, “who you belong to.”

His lips brushed the column of Leon’s throat, slow and deliberate. Leon’s knees buckled slightly. He felt trapped—and not just physically. Emotionally. His body burned where their skin touched. He hated the way he reacted, the way his body betrayed him every time this man came close.

Then came the kiss—soft at first. A brush of lips. Then firmer, and suddenly, the man was sucking hard on Leon’s neck, leaving no room for confusion about what he was doing. Claiming. Marking. Dominating.

Leon tried—he really did—to stay silent.

But the moan escaped before he could suppress it.

“A-ahhh…”

The man chuckled darkly against his skin, pleased.

“There it is,” he said smugly, then bit down—not hard enough to draw blood, but enough to leave a very visible, very dark hickey.

Leon shuddered. His breath came in sharp gasps.

“You’re always like this,” the man whispered. “Acting all cold. Pretending I don’t affect you. But your body doesn’t lie, Rhy.”

Leon was trembling. Heat coursed through his veins like molten fire. His shirt hung loosely now, his chest exposed as the man slowly undid his buttons, one by one, with maddening precision.

“You are mine,” the man said, voice low and thick with intent. “Always remember that. I’m a very possessive bastard.”

That did it.

“Rhy…” the voice murmured, “do you think you won’t be punished for that lie?”

The man’s body pressed fully against his, trapping Leon between the wall and heat.

A warm breath hit Leon’s neck.

Leon gasped. “Don’t—”

“Oh, I’m going to.” His lips grazed Leon’s neck. “You’re mine, Rhy.”

The sound of his old name—Rhy—made Leon shiver.

Then lips.

Soft at first. Then harder. Sucking. Marking.

Leon shuddered.

“A-Ah…” he moaned, unable to help it.

The man smirked, dragging his tongue across the sensitive skin before giving a firm bite. Not too hard—but enough to leave a dark, possessive mark.

Leon whimpered.

The man slowly unbuttoned Leon’s shirt. “You’re mine, always remember that, Rhy. I’m a possessive bastard.”

Leon’s whole body flushed red. His knees nearly buckled.

The man pressed closer. “Say it. Say you’re mine.”

Leon’s voice was a whisper. “I… I can’t…”

Another bite.

Leon whimpered. “Ah—stop…”

The man smirked. “Your mouth says stop. But your body remembers.”

Leon shoved him, face crimson. “You’re insane!”

Leon’s brain snapped back into place through the fog of lust and confusion. His face flared red—so red it could’ve matched a sunset. He placed both hands on the man’s chest and shoved—hard enough to put a foot of distance between them.

“I—idiot!” Leon stammered, yanking his shirt closed. “Shameless, arrogant, ridiculous—!”

He didn’t finish.

He flung the door open, not caring who saw, and bolted into the hallway. His face was still burning, heart racing, shirt half-open. He could still feel the imprint of the man’s mouth on his skin.

Behind him, the man stayed in the room, leaning casually against the wall with a wicked grin curling on his lips.

The man—still smirking—watched him disappear.

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

“Run if you want, Rhy… but you’ll always be mine.”

—

Leon didn’t stop running until he reached the quiet sanctuary of the garden veranda. He braced both hands against the stone railing, chest heaving. Cool night air flooded his lungs.

He hated that he let himself react like that.

But what choice did he have?

The man—his tormentor, his obsession, his… damnation—wasn’t just anyone.

He was the one Leon had once trusted with everything.

And now, the past was chasing him in ways he wasn’t ready to face.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and stared at the screen.

No name. Just a message.

—You’ll never say you don’t love anyone again. Not after tonight.

Leon groaned, burying his face in his hands.

This man was a walking hurricane, and Leon? He was the fool who kept standing in the storm.

—

Somewhere, far away, the man leaned back into the shadows. His fingers traced the edge of his own lips where Leon’s scent still lingered. He could still feel the pulse of Leon’s heartbeat under his hand.

“Soon,” he murmured, staring at the door Leon had fled through.

“Soon, you’ll stop running.”

*************************

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