Isabella's point of view
The walls felt closer now, as if they were pressing in, suffocating me with every breath I took. The room, dimly lit by the flickering bulb above, was a prison of silence and dread. My pulse thumped wildly, a frantic rhythm that betrayed the stillness I tried to maintain.
Leonardo stood before me, his eyes sharp and unforgiving, his presence a force that seemed to drain the air from the room. His fingers tapped against the armrest of his chair, slow and deliberate, a reminder of his patience, his control. The body lay motionless between us, a lifeless testament to his cruelty. My throat constricted at the sight, but I forced myself to meet his gaze, to refuse him the victory of seeing me crumble.
"You're taking too long to understand, Isabella," he murmured, his voice smooth yet laced with unspoken threats. "I thought you would be smarter than this."
