Isabella’s POV
I step into Alex’s office, its dark mahogany walls and dim lighting setting an immediate tone of control. His presence looms at the far end of the room, where he sits behind his vast desk, fingers steepled as he watches me cross the threshold. My heart pounds, knowing he can read the smallest hint of hesitation in my eyes. It’s unsettling, how this man commands every single nerve in my body-like he owns me.
“Isabella,” he drawls, his voice smooth yet holding that undertone of authority I can’t shake. “You’re late.”
I bite down on my lip, swallowing the reply that flares up in me. “Traffic.”
He smirks, cold and calculated. “Traffic isn’t an excuse I expect from my wife. Not even my…contracted wife.” The words cut deeper than intended, I think, or maybe he just enjoys the effect. His gaze doesn’t soften, and I feel the weight of his judgment like an iron chain around my throat.
I take a steadying breath, feeling my palms dampen. “Is there something you needed?” I keep my tone professional, hoping to mask the emotional tug he somehow always triggers.
His eyes narrow. “I think you know what I need, Bella.” There’s a quiet threat in the way he emphasizes my name, shortening it as if he owns every part of me-including my name, my autonomy, my pride.
He stands, coming around the desk to close the distance between us. He stops mere inches away, his scent-a blend of leather, musk, and something undeniably dark-fills my senses, dizzying me.
“Tell me,” he orders, eyes hard as steel. “Do you remember the terms of our contract? Or have you forgotten?”
My mind flickers back to the contract that binds me to this man, a tangled web of legal jargon and terms that spelled out my submission-both legally and… personally. My throat tightens.
“I remember,” I whisper, hating the quiver in my voice.
“Good.” His hand brushes my cheek, fingers gliding down to rest against my jaw. The contact sends a shiver down my spine, and I hate how my body betrays me under his touch. “I expect you to follow the rules, Bella. And I expect you to take accountability for any… discrepancies.”
His gaze drops to my collar-the silver band that I wear as a reminder of my place. I want to rip it off, throw it at his feet, but I don’t. Instead, I look up, defiance sparking in my eyes.
“Maybe I’m tired of playing your games, Alex,” I say, forcing my voice to sound stronger than I feel.
He chuckles, low and dangerous, his hand tightening on my jaw. “You don’t get to decide when this ends, Isabella. We made a deal.” He leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “And you will fulfill it.”
I tremble under his words, torn between the fiery urge to rebel and the inexplicable pull he has on me. The room feels suffocating, yet I can’t deny the spark of desire his touch ignites-a twisted attraction that I both hate and crave.
“Tonight,” he says, stepping back but keeping his gaze locked on mine, “you will come to my room. And you’ll beg me properly this time. No games, no hiding.”
My heart skips a beat, a flush rising to my cheeks as I process his demand. But before I can react, he adds, voice softer yet chillingly intense, “And you’ll call me Daddy.”
The word hangs in the air between us, loaded with implications, with the dark promise he’s made clear since our twisted arrangement began. I swallow hard, but he holds my gaze, waiting for my answer. Defiance and surrender wage a silent war within me.
He tilts his head, a smirk playing on his lips. “Or…are you thinking of renegotiating our deal, Bella?”
The challenge is unmistakable, and I know that one wrong move could shift the balance of power forever. The thought chills and excites me, leaving me poised on the brink.
With a small, defiant tilt of my chin, I answer. “Fine, Alex. I’ll be there tonight.” But inside, I wonder just how much more of myself I’m willing to give.
Alex’s POV
I lean back in the chair, watching Isabella as she paces, biting her lip with that nervous habit she doesn’t even realize she has. Tonight, she’s not in the elegant lawyer’s attire that usually has her standing tall. Instead, she’s in my space, bare and vulnerable, just as I like her.
“You’re restless,” I say, voice low. “Tell me why, Bella.”
She freezes, her shoulders tensing. But she won’t look at me. That’s her game; she’s got her walls. They come up whenever she feels too much. And right now, I can see those walls, clear as glass. But glass can shatter.
“Nothing to tell, Alex. I’m just… fine.” Her voice wavers on that last word, and I know her better than she thinks. Every lie she tells herself, every hesitation, every little moment of defiance-it fuels me.
I give her a slow, deliberate smile. “Fine, huh? That’s not what it looked like last night, Bella.”
She inhales sharply, finally meeting my gaze. Her defiance flares up, but it’s only a flicker before she looks away, embarrassed. I love it when she’s like this-stubborn, yet she wants to please me, as if her mind can’t decide which way to go.
“Why don’t you kneel, Bella?”
There’s a pause. A hesitation. Her eyes flash up to mine, and I catch the slightest hint of vulnerability before she hides it away. I know this woman well enough to know she’ll do it. And she does, one knee dropping, then the other.
“Good girl,” I murmur, letting my fingers brush her cheek. “Now, tell me-what’s really on your mind?”
She swallows, and I can see the battle waging in her. This is the Isabella nobody else knows. The one who wants to obey, even as she fights against her own desires. “I don’t understand you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
I raise an eyebrow, feigning amusement. “Oh? What’s confusing? The fact that I know exactly how you think, or that you can’t seem to hide it?”
Her eyes narrow, defiance simmering under that pretty surface. “You’re impossible. And arrogant.”
I chuckle softly, tipping her chin up, so she has no choice but to look at me. “Maybe. But you like it.” I let my hand slide to the back of her neck, pressing gently, keeping her exactly where I want her. “Or do you really want me to believe otherwise?”
She doesn’t answer. But her silence is answer enough. She shivers under my touch, and I can feel her pulse racing. She’s fighting herself, and I love every second of it.
“Stand up, Bella. I want you to go to the window.” My voice is quiet but firm, each word dripping with intent.
She rises slowly, uncertain, her eyes searching mine as if trying to read my thoughts. But I don’t give her a clue. Not yet. She reaches the window, looking out into the night, the city lights sprawling beneath us like stars that got tangled in the dark. She looks so small, so delicate, and yet there’s a fire in her that never dies, no matter how many times I test her.
I come up behind her, my hands finding her waist, and I can feel her tense, the anticipation thrumming in the space between us.
I press my lips to her ear, feeling her shiver as I speak. “Bella, you act like you hate me half the time. But tell me-when was the last time you could walk away from this?”
She doesn’t answer. Instead, she tilts her head slightly, exposing her neck, a silent admission that she’s mine in ways she’s not ready to admit.
“You can’t, can you?” I murmur, fingers tightening around her waist. “Because you like being owned. You like that I know how you think, that I can control you in ways no one else can. You want this as much as I do, don’t you?”
She turns, and for a moment, her eyes flash with a mix of anger and something else-something raw and dangerous. “You don’t own me, Alex,” she says, voice trembling but determined.
I smirk, feeling the rush of the game we play. “No? Then why are you here, Bella? Why do you keep coming back?”
She doesn’t have an answer, and I step closer, my body pressing against hers. “That’s what I thought.”
She breathes out, barely audible, but the defiance is still there. “Because… because I have to.”
The words catch me off guard, a hint of truth slipping through her usually guarded lips. It’s like a crack in her armor, and I can see it-she wants to hate me, to walk away. But something keeps her here, keeps her coming back. It’s the one thing she can’t admit.
“Then admit it, Bella,” I whisper, my voice low. “Admit you want this. Admit you want me.”
She stares at me, her gaze unflinching, and for a second, I think she might finally let herself be vulnerable. But then she pulls back, slipping out of my grasp, breaking the spell.
I watch as she steps away, her back turned, her shoulders tense. “Alex,” she says, her voice barely a whisper. “You know this can’t work. You and me… we’re toxic.”
“Toxic?” I repeat, my tone laced with mockery. “Is that what you tell yourself so you can keep pretending you don’t want this?”
She spins around, eyes blazing. “You don’t get it. You just… you don’t understand.”
I step forward, closing the distance between us once more, my hand reaching up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Then make me understand, Bella. Because as far as I can tell, you’re just afraid of how much you feel.”
For a moment, I think I see something soften in her eyes, something that almost looks like surrender. But it’s gone in a flash, replaced by the familiar defiance.
“You’re wrong, Alex,” she whispers, though her voice lacks conviction.
“Am I?” I lean closer, my lips grazing her ear. “Then prove me wrong. Walk away right now. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go.”
She doesn’t move. Instead, she closes her eyes, as if steeling herself against the truth she can’t escape.
“See? You can’t do it, Bella. Because deep down, you know this is where you belong.”
The silence between us stretches, thick and charged. She opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it, her fingers clenched at her sides. I can see the struggle written all over her, the battle between what she wants and what she thinks is right. It’s intoxicating, watching her fight herself. But this time, I’m not going to let her off the hook.
“You know the rules, Bella,” I say softly, my voice laced with authority. “Either you’re all in… or you’re out. Decide.”
Her eyes lock onto mine, and for a second, there’s a flash of vulnerability. It’s gone in a heartbeat, replaced by that cold, calculated stare she uses to protect herself. But I know the truth. I see right through her defenses.
“You don’t own me, Alex,” she says, her voice shaking.
“No?” I smile, letting her words linger in the air between us. “Then prove it.”
I take a step back, giving her the space she thinks she wants. But as I do, I see the slightest flicker of panic in her eyes, a split-second of doubt.
I know she won’t leave. She can’t. And that’s the real power here.
As she stands there, trapped in the moment, I let the silence stretch, watching as the truth dawns on her, inch by inch. And just when I think she might actually say something, she pulls back, her eyes hardening.
“Goodnight, Alex,” she says, her tone cold.
But I know it’s only a matter of time before she’s back.
“Goodnight, Bella,” I reply, a smirk tugging at my lips.
And as the door clicks shut behind her, I can’t help but smile.