Chapter 3

LEONARDO’s POV

Letting out a sigh, I release the button of my suit before settling on the black velvet couch. I needed to get comfortable, as it’s going to be another long conversation with mom reminding Isabella and myself of how she needs to have a grandchild just like her other friends.

 

I knew the conversation would be inevitable on this day, seeing as we would be hosting family and friends for our wedding anniversary. Absconding from the house this morning before the arrival of anyone was a success.

 

"You weren’t supposed to be working today, Leonardo.” Mom twisted her lips.

 

“Hello, Mother” I say to her with a smirk plastered on my face. I could tell just how much she wanted to remove that smirk from my face.

 

I really needed her to speed this up so I could go lock myself up in my workspace. That was the plan after all—coming back home and locking myself up until the time of the event.

 

"If you are always working so much, when would you two be able to put in more effort to have a baby?" she says, throwing her hands in the air.

"Don’t you talk to your husband, Isabella?” She points at Isabella. "I know you’re both trying, but for love of everything sweet and wonderful, please try harder”

 

“Mother, you do realize that if you want to actually be alive to see the grandchildren you’re requesting, you will need to actually relax and not kill yourself with stress” I pointed out to her.

 

The other time mom had this conversation with us, she pointed out some trust fund attached to Isabella, and myself bearing a child. Apparently, since both our dads were childhood friends, they both decided to get us married to unite the family as one. They also went as far as setting up a trust fund for our children. Where our first child gets 40, and the remaining 60 will be split amongst our other children. And in this case, we only had one child; we both had 30/30 to ourselves.

 

They had succeeded in manipulating our lives to get what they wanted from us for this long and are still trying to do so!

 

What if we don’t want kids? What if we aren’t ready for kids? Damn it! To be honest, I’m quite glad we haven’t been able to conceive yet. Isabella wasn’t my choice, and I’m still trying to accept her as my wife. So for now, I’m not going to seek medical help; I’m just going to wait for the universe to make it happen when it happens. There was no reason to make a fuss like Mom was constantly doing.

 

"Your dad would have wanted to see your child before he died, oh my dear Alessandro," she said, crying. “I don’t want to also die without seeing your kids, Leonardo."

 

“Mom, you’re just 58; you’re not dying anytime soon. And dad would have still been here if he wasn’t sick” I really don’t like when mom tries to blackmail me with her tears; now she’s bringing dad into this conversation.

 

I briskly get up from the black velvet seat and make my way to the bed while taking off my suit. I was starting to feel irritated by all her drama. And I wasn’t going to take it much longer.

 

“Oh, Mother, you really do not have to cry” Isabella finally spoke. "For all we know, there might be some good news around the corner” she said, smiling at me.

 

What did Isabella mean by that? Was she pregnant? But if there's one thing I’ve learned about Isabella, it's how cunning she can be. She might be trying to get Mom to drop the topic.

 

"Really?" Mom's eyes glint with joy. “Oh, this is definitely the best news of the year. I need to go call your mother!” With that, she bolted off the bed like a little child and left the room.

 

"At least that should buy us some time. Isabella rolled her eyes as her mother left.

 

"You really shouldn’t be raising her expectations that way," I say to her

 

"Come on, Leon baby. With the event we have today, do you really want to have to deal with family members asking us when we’re going to make babies?” She stated running her hands on my chest. "I didn’t think so either. Anyway, the crystal vases are here. I need to go be with the movers before they break something they clearly can’t afford" with that, she turned her back and walked away

 

Left to me, this event wouldn’t take place. I see no reason for celebrating something that doesn’t really exist. There’s really no excitement in this marriage. Why celebrate it?

 

As my mind wandered in the hallway I couldn’t help but be captivated by a certain presence. I noticed as she was lost admiring the lamp which I recently got from my sister Rosi last month.

Her harmless fascination with the lamp was amusing, and I instantly found it intriguing how her fingers seemed to run through the details of the lamp.

I noticed she had a rag in her hand, which she used to wipe the lamp as she appeared lost in it. But I could tell she wasn’t an in-house staffer, seeing that she didn’t have a uniform on. Maybe she was new or one of the helping hands Isabella mentioned.

I stood silently, watching her every move and admiring her. She had her long brown hair effortlessly fall into lazy curls. Her hair bounced and moved with her every move. She had a gracefully tall frame, seeming to be about 5’10 in height.

She abruptly turned around, and our eyes came face-to-face. And suddenly, all the anger I had felt earlier vanished. I noticed her eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me scanning my appearance. Her big brown eyes grew wider as I approached her, and her vanilla scent started to fill my nostrils as we got nearer.

With the hope of easing the already existing tension, I decide to make mention of the lamp she had earlier been admiring.

Beautiful, isn’t it? I said, indicating the lamp as I moved further closer to where she stood.

“Ye—s, it— is," she stammered. I could tell my nearness influenced her. She appeared flushed and drained by my nearness. I was used to having that effect on women, and it always struck my ego.

"It was from my sister. She has always been a lover of minimal décor." I responded with a faint smirk across my face. And caught her lost in thought.

The tension she had seemed to strike joy in me. Knowing my effect had as much effect on her as it did for other women.

"You’re doing a great job; well done," I said as I walked away. I’ve tortured her enough.