Isabella
I’m not sure what’s colder-Alex’s office, with its slate-gray walls and lifeless marble floors, or his steel-blue gaze fixed on me like a predator sizing up prey. He leans back in his leather chair, fingers steepled under his sharp jawline, daring me to speak first.
“You called for me, Daddy?” The words are honeyed poison, rolling off my tongue with practiced submission. My knees ache from the marble beneath me as I kneel before his desk, just like his rules demand. The collar around my neck feels heavier today, the leash clipped to his hand taut and unforgiving.
“I heard you were trying to adjust the terms of our contract.” His voice is low, a silky threat wrapped in a velvet tone. “Care to explain why my lawyer wife thinks she’s clever enough to outmaneuver me?”
I swallow hard, forcing a calm I don’t feel. “It’s business. Nothing personal.”
His smirk is razor-sharp. “You forget, Isabella. With me, everything is personal.” He yanks the leash, pulling me forward until my hands brace against the edge of his desk. His cologne wraps around me like a dark spell, intoxicating and suffocating all at once.
“You know the rules,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over my ear. “Contracts are binding. And so are you.”
The line between hate and desire is razor-thin, and Alex walks it like a goddamn tightrope artist. One moment, I’m ready to claw his arrogant face; the next, I’m trembling under his touch, craving more.
He trails a finger down my jawline, tipping my chin upward. “You look tired, Isabella. Long night? Or were you too busy dreaming of ways to betray me?”
“Betray you?” I snap, my resolve cracking like thin ice. “You don’t even trust me enough to let me breathe without your permission.”
His laughter is dark, mocking. “Trust is earned, little girl. And you’ve yet to prove yourself worthy.”
Before I can retort, he spins me around, pressing me against the desk. His hands pin mine above my head, his chest a wall of unyielding heat against my back. “But let’s test your loyalty, shall we?”
I shiver as his lips graze my neck, equal parts threat and promise. His touch is electrifying, a masterful blend of punishment and pleasure. I hate how my body betrays me, arching into him despite the firestorm in my mind.
Later that night, I sit cross-legged on the plush rug in Alex’s penthouse. The dim lighting softens the harsh edges of his world, casting shadows that dance like whispers of secrets untold. He’s watching me from the couch, a glass of bourbon in his hand and a look that’s equal parts possessive and unreadable.
“You’re awfully quiet,” he muses, taking a slow sip. “Regretting your life choices already?”
I glare at him, though my heart races under his scrutiny. “What’s there to regret? I signed a deal with the devil, didn’t I?”
His grin is wicked, his eyes darkening. “And I’ve yet to collect all my dues.”
I roll my eyes, feigning nonchalance. “You’ve taken everything already. What’s left?”
Alex sets his glass down, stalking toward me with the precision of a panther. “Everything, Isabella. Your mind. Your soul. Your submission.”
His words send a chill down my spine, though I refuse to let it show. “I thought you didn’t do feelings, Daddy. Or does owning me blur the lines for you?”
His silence is deafening, his gaze searing. For a moment, I see something raw and unguarded flicker across his face. It’s gone in a heartbeat, replaced by his usual mask of indifference.
“Sign these,” he commands, dropping a stack of papers onto the coffee table in front of me.
“What are these?” I ask, my voice trembling despite my attempt to sound defiant.
“An addendum to our contract.” His tone is clipped, his expression unreadable.
I skim the pages, my stomach sinking as I realize the extent of his control. He’s tightened the noose even further, leaving no room for negotiation. “This is insane, Alex. You can’t keep-”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he interrupts, his voice a thunderstorm rolling through the room. “You belong to me, Isabella. Body, mind, and soul. You agreed to this the moment you signed that contract.”
“Maybe I made a mistake,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.
His eyes flash with something primal, dangerous. “Mistakes have consequences. And running from me isn’t an option.”
The tension between us is suffocating, an invisible rope pulling tighter with every breath. Just as I’m about to retort, the sound of Alex’s phone vibrating on the coffee table breaks the silence.
He glances at the screen, his jaw tightening as he reads the message. Without a word, he grabs his coat and heads for the door.
“Where are you going?” I demand, standing to follow him.
He pauses, turning back to me with a look that sends a shiver down my spine. “Stay here. Don’t move. And don’t fucking think about leaving.”
The door slams shut behind him, leaving me alone with my racing thoughts and the stack of papers on the table.
But the moment he’s gone, I grab my phone and dial a number I haven’t called in years.
“It’s me,” I whisper, my voice shaking. “I need your help.”