From Isabella’s POV
The office lights hummed, spilling a clinical glow across the glossy desk separating me from Alex. His eyes, cold as midnight, didn’t soften; they never did. Not for me, not for anyone. But that was part of the allure, wasn’t it? His control, like a locked gate-one I couldn’t decide if I wanted to kick down or admire from behind.
“Isabella,” he drawled, leaning back with that maddening half-smirk. “You look distracted. Thinking about our… arrangement?”
His words snaked into my mind, making my skin prickle with a cocktail of excitement and resentment. This was business, or at least that’s what I told myself. Sure, we were bound by contract. A deal. Yet every damn look, every cold touch made it feel far more personal-and dangerously seductive.
I crossed my arms, refusing to break eye contact. “This isn’t part of the deal, Alex. I didn’t sign up to be your toy.”
A glint of something-amusement, maybe satisfaction-flashed across his face. “Didn’t you, though? Seems to me you’ve enjoyed playing the part.”
The sharp retort caught in my throat, and he knew it. He knew exactly how to make me feel exposed, controlled. And part of me hated that it worked every time. Still, I straightened up, forcing out a steady, firm breath.
“I want clarity, Alex. No more games,” I said, holding his icy gaze, daring him to crack.
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the desk, voice low. “Careful what you ask for, Bella. The truth isn’t always kind.”
Later that evening, his penthouse was cloaked in silence, save for the rhythmic ticking of a distant clock. Alex was a silhouette against the floor-to-ceiling windows, watching the city lights like a king surveying his empire. He didn’t acknowledge my presence, but I knew he was waiting for me.
A knot tightened in my stomach. This wasn’t what I’d imagined for myself-a life bound to a man who was as cold as he was powerful. But here I was, wrapped up in his world of money, power, and rules that felt like shackles on my skin.
He finally turned, a slow, deliberate movement that felt like a summons. I swallowed, moving toward him, fighting every instinct that screamed to keep my distance. But when he reached out, gripping my chin between two fingers, that same rebellious thrill coursed through me.
“I’m not yours to control, Alex,” I whispered, the words barely audible.
His grip tightened, his gaze hardening. “You don’t get to decide that, Bella. You’re mine because I say so.” He leaned closer, his voice a dark whisper in my ear. “And when you’re done fooling yourself, maybe you’ll understand that.”
As the night wore on, I found myself sitting on the edge of his bed, still fuming from our exchange. But instead of pushing me away, my anger only seemed to draw him closer. He was beside me, silent yet all-consuming, his presence wrapping around me like a vice. I wanted to hate him, to shove him away-but God, he had this magnetic pull, something I couldn’t shake.
Alex lifted my chin again, that dark, possessive look sparking in his eyes. “Tell me, Isabella,” he murmured, his fingers grazing my cheek in a way that sent a jolt through me. “Do you crave control, or do you just hate that I have it?”
His words hit hard, cutting through my carefully constructed walls. He knew how to unravel me, layer by layer, and that both terrified and thrilled me. The answer was there, lurking, but admitting it felt like a surrender I wasn’t ready to give.
“You don’t know me,” I whispered, barely holding back the tremor in my voice.
“Maybe,” he replied, his voice dripping with confidence. “But I think I know enough. Enough to see that you’re running scared, even though you want this as much as I do.”
And damn him, he was right. But admitting it would give him even more power than he already had.
Hours later, when the city lay silent beneath the penthouse, I found myself standing on the balcony, the cold air biting my skin. I needed distance, clarity. But then I felt him behind me, his presence as inescapable as the contract that bound us together.
“Thinking of running?” he asked, his voice soft, almost taunting.
I didn’t turn. “Maybe I am. Maybe I’m tired of playing by your rules.”
Alex’s laugh was low, dangerous. He moved closer, his breath warm against my neck. “We both know you won’t leave. You crave this too much. This pull between us, Bella-it’s not going away.”
I hated how his words seemed to melt my resolve. I wanted to lash out, tell him he was wrong. But a part of me, a shameful, secret part, knew he was right.
His fingers brushed my arm, the touch searing despite the chill. “Run if you want, but we both know where you’ll end up.”
I turned, anger sparking. “I’m not yours, Alex.”
He smirked, eyes glinting with that unyielding confidence. “Oh, but you are, Bella. And deep down, you know it.”
I stepped back, my heart pounding, desperate for some distance. But Alex reached out, pulling me close until there was barely a breath between us. His gaze was intense, focused, and for a fleeting moment, I thought I saw something deeper, something vulnerable.
“Run all you want,” he whispered, voice low and dangerous. “But I’ll always find you.”
And with that, he released me, stepping back, leaving me reeling with his words hanging in the air. My heart raced, the weight of his promise sinking in, filling me with equal parts fear and a strange, undeniable thrill.
In the back of my mind, I knew this was far from over. He wasn’t done with me. Not by a long shot.