The Third Person POV
Isabella paced in her bedroom, the soft click of her heels echoing against the polished marble floor. The collar around her neck, a masterpiece of leather and diamonds, felt heavier tonight-a constant reminder of Alex’s control. She stopped to glance at her reflection, her lips pressing into a thin line.
“You’re his possession,” she muttered, yanking the silk robe tighter around her. But her body betrayed her. Every time he looked at her with those icy blue eyes, her resolve melted faster than snow in the sun.
Downstairs, Alex sat in his cold, modern study, sipping whiskey. His crisp white shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing a sliver of his toned chest. He swirled the amber liquid in his glass, his mind racing with thoughts of Isabella.
She thinks she can play me,” he muttered, the corner of his mouth curling into a dark smile. “Let’s see how far she’s willing to push.”
He pressed a button on his desk. Seconds later, Isabella’s phone vibrated.
Alex (Texting):You’ve got 10 minutes to get down here. Don’t make me come up.
She read the message, her pulse quickening. Every time, she thought, rolling her eyes but already moving toward the door.
Isabella entered the study, her heels sinking into the plush rug. Alex didn’t look up immediately, letting her feel the weight of his silence. She hated it when he did that-it made her feel small, like she wasn’t worth his attention.
“You summoned me,” she said, folding her arms across her chest.
“Drop the attitude, bella. Sit,” Alex replied, gesturing to the sleek leather chair across from him.
She hesitated, her defiance bubbling under the surface. “Why? So you can lecture me again?”
His eyes narrowed. “Because I said so.”
The air between them thickened, each daring the other to break first. With a dramatic sigh, Isabella sank into the chair, crossing her legs. Her robe slipped slightly, exposing her thigh. Alex’s gaze flicked to the bare skin, his jaw tightening.
“Careful,” he said, his voice dropping an octave. “Unless you’re trying to provoke me.”
Isabella smirked, leaning forward. “Maybe I am. Or maybe I’m tired of playing your games.”
Alex stood, the room’s dim lighting casting shadows across his sharp features. He moved around the desk, his steps deliberate, predatory. Isabella’s breath hitched as he stopped inches from her, towering over her like a storm cloud ready to burst.
“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said, gripping the arms of her chair and leaning down until their faces were inches apart. “You don’t get tired of me. I own every inch of you, inside and out.”
Her heart hammered in her chest, but she refused to let him see her crumble. “You don’t own my mind, Alex. You can control my body, but my thoughts are mine.”
His lips curved into a wicked grin. “That’s cute.”
Before she could retort, he pulled her up by the collar, forcing her to stand on her toes. The move was rough, dominant-everything about him screamed control.
“You’re mine, Isabella. And tonight, I’m going to remind you why.”
Moments later, Isabella found herself pressed against the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling window, the city lights twinkling below them. Alex’s hands roamed her body, firm yet teasing, igniting a fire she couldn’t extinguish.
“You’re not walking away from me,” he growled against her neck, his breath hot and heavy.
She tilted her head, giving him access, her body betraying her mind once again. “You can’t keep me in a cage forever,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Watch me.”
He spun her around, pinning her wrists above her head. His lips crashed against hers, a mix of anger and passion that left her breathless. She hated how much she wanted him, how her body surrendered even when her mind screamed no.
But just as she began to lose herself in the moment, he pulled back, his eyes burning with something she couldn’t quite place.
“You’re hiding something,” he said, his voice low but dangerous.
Isabella’s stomach dropped. She masked her panic with a defiant glare. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play dumb,” Alex snapped, his grip tightening on her wrists. “You’ve been distracted lately. Secretive. What are you keeping from me?”
She swallowed hard, her mind racing for an excuse. “Nothing. You’re imagining things.”
He released her abruptly, taking a step back. The sudden distance felt colder than the night air.
“If I find out you’re lying to me,” he said, his tone chillingly calm, “there will be consequences.”
Isabella’s heart pounded as he turned and walked away, leaving her alone by the window. She clutched the collar around her neck, her mind swirling with fear and defiance.
“I can’t let him find out,” she thought, her hand instinctively resting on her stomach.
Alex doesn’t know Isabella is pregnant, but his suspicion has been piqued.
The heavy silence in Alex Ricci’s office was as sharp as the edge of the knife he twirled in his fingers. Outside, the city buzzed with life, but here, only the crackling tension between Alex and Isabella filled the air. She stood before him, defiant, though her trembling hands betrayed her nerves. The thin leather collar on her neck gleamed under the light-a stark reminder of who held the leash.
“Isabella,” Alex drawled, his voice low and dangerous, the kind that sent chills down spines and made enemies fold. “You didn’t kneel when you entered. Is that defiance, or are you testing me?”
Her lips parted, but no words came. His eyes narrowed, the storm behind his calm exterior ready to break.
“Speak,” he ordered, his tone sharp. “Or do you need reminding who you belong to?”
Her jaw tightened. “I’m not one of your toys, Alex.”
“No,” he said, smirking darkly. “You’re not. You’re mine. That’s something entirely different.”
His words slithered through her defenses, and her knees threatened to buckle. Yet, she stood firm, her pride refusing to let him see how deeply his possessiveness stirred her.
Alex rose from his chair, his every step predatory. He stopped in front of her, towering over her smaller frame. His knuckles brushed against her cheek, deceptively gentle.
“You think you’re clever,” he murmured, his Italian accent thickening when he was angry. “Throwing your tantrums in court, challenging me at every turn. But here? You’re just the girl who signed herself over to the devil.”
Her throat tightened, but she lifted her chin. “I signed for protection, not domination. And definitely not to become your… plaything.”
“Plaything?” He chuckled, dark and mocking. “No, Isabella. You’re my obsession, my good girl… when you behave. But lately, you’ve forgotten your place.”
He gripped her wrist, his touch firm but not painful, dragging her toward the desk. Before she could protest, he bent her over it, pinning her hands behind her back.
“I don’t take kindly to forgetfulness,” he hissed, his lips brushing her ear. “Maybe it’s time for a reminder.”
Her breath hitched, a mix of fear and something more treacherous coursing through her. But she refused to beg.
“Go ahead,” she spat, her voice trembling. “Show me just how low you can go.”
His grip loosened for a fraction of a second, and his face darkened. For the briefest moment, the cold mask cracked, revealing something raw and unguarded.
“You think I enjoy this, piccola?” His voice dropped, laced with bitterness. “You think I’m like this for fun?”
She turned her head to look at him, her breath shallow. “Then why, Alex? Why do you insist on breaking me?”
His jaw clenched, the haunted look in his eyes vanishing as quickly as it appeared. “Because broken things are easier to protect.”
The words hung between them, heavy with unspoken truths. She wanted to pry, to ask about the wounds he kept hidden, but his grip tightened again, silencing her.
“Enough talking,” he snapped, regaining control. “You’ll learn your lesson tonight.”
Just as he leaned closer, the vibration of his phone broke the tension. He ignored it, focusing on Isabella’s flushed face, her quickened breathing.
But the second buzz was followed by a rapid series of vibrations.
“Answer it,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
He hesitated, the urge to assert dominance clashing with the sudden urgency of the call. Reluctantly, he stepped back, fishing the phone from his pocket.
“What?” he barked into the receiver, his temper barely restrained.
A pause. Then a voice crackled through the speaker, one that made his blood run cold.
“Boss,” the caller said, hurriedly. “It’s about Isabella. We’ve uncovered something… something big. She’s not who she says she is.”
Alex’s gaze snapped to her, his eyes alight with fury and confusion.
“Explain,” he demanded, his grip tightening on the phone.
“She’s been lying to you, boss. Her real name isn’t Isabella Greco. She’s connected to-”
The line cut off.
“Damn it!” Alex roared, slamming the phone onto the desk. His piercing gaze landed on Isabella, who stood frozen, her face pale.
“What the hell are you hiding from me?” he growled, advancing on her.
“I… I don’t-”
“Don’t you dare lie,” he cut her off, his voice low and lethal.
And then, as if the room couldn’t hold any more tension, he leaned in close, his lips brushing her ear.
“You’ll tell me everything,” he whispered, “or I’ll take you apart piece by piece until you do.”
Ending Suspense: A Shocking Revelation
Before she could respond, the door to the office burst open. One of Alex’s men stumbled in, bloodied and panicked.
“Boss,” the man gasped, clutching his side. “They’re here. They’ve found her.”
Alex turned sharply, his body coiled like a predator ready to strike.
“Who?” he barked.
The man coughed, spitting blood. “The ones looking for her.”
Isabella’s knees buckled, and for the first time, Alex saw real terror in her eyes.
“Who’s after you?” he demanded, grabbing her shoulders.
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. “I-I can’t-”
“You will,” he snarled.
But before she could answer, the sound of gunfire erupted outside, sealing their fates.
“Stay behind me,” Alex ordered, pulling a gun from his drawer.
And just like that, the night spiraled into chaos, with secrets ready to destroy them both.