Alex’s POV
The office was silent except for the faint hum of the city below. Isabella was late-again. My jaw tightened as I glanced at the sleek clock on my desk, its ticking louder in the absence of her.
She knew better than to test me, but my good girl had her own rebellious streak. Tonight, though, she wouldn’t get away with it. Not this time.
The door creaked open, and there she was-heels clicking against the marble floor, a hint of defiance in her eyes. Her coat slipped off her shoulders, revealing the thin straps of the dress I’d chosen for her. A smirk tugged at the corner of my lips. She was playing with fire.
“Alex,” she greeted softly, carefully avoiding “Daddy,” as if I wouldn’t notice.
I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms. “You’re late.”
“I had work-”
I cut her off with a sharp look, my voice icy. “Don’t finish that sentence.”
Her lips pressed together, and I saw the faint tremor in her hands as she set her bag down. “I’m sorry,” she murmured, finally lowering her gaze.
“Sorry doesn’t fix disobedience, Isabella.” My tone was razor-sharp, each word slicing through her weak excuses.
Her cheeks flushed, and I knew I had her exactly where I wanted. The tension between us crackled, an unspoken understanding hanging in the air.
“Come here,” I commanded, the words leaving no room for negotiation.
She hesitated for half a second-just long enough to piss me off-but then she stepped closer, her heels clicking like the countdown to a bomb.
“On your knees.”
Her breath hitched, and I saw her resistance flare for a moment before she dropped to the floor, her skirt pooling around her like a halo. Obedience looked good on her, even when she wore it begrudgingly.
“You’re forgetting something, Isabella,” I said, my tone calm but dripping with menace.
Her lashes fluttered, and she bit her bottom lip-nervous, unsure. I loved watching her squirm.
“Say it,” I ordered, leaning forward, my elbows resting on the desk.
Her voice was barely above a whisper. “Daddy…”
“Louder.”
“Daddy,” she repeated, this time with enough strength to satisfy me.
I reached forward, cupping her chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. “That’s better. Good girl.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly at the praise, but I wasn’t done with her. Not even close.
“I need your legal expertise,” I began, my fingers still holding her chin. “The Lombardi case is… complicated.”
Her eyes darted up to meet mine, the lawyer in her lighting up at the mention of work. I almost laughed at how quickly she tried to mask her curiosity.
“What about it?” she asked, her voice steady now, all traces of submissiveness gone.
I released her and leaned back, steepling my fingers. “The contract they’re pushing isn’t clean. I need you to fix it.”
Her lips pursed, and for a second, I saw the woman I admired-the sharp, intelligent lawyer who could outwit anyone in the room. It was a shame she was stuck with me, bound by chains she couldn’t see but felt every day.
“Fine,” she said, standing up. “Send me the files.”
“You’ll stay here tonight to work on it,” I added, my tone making it clear this wasn’t a request.
Her eyes narrowed. “I have a life outside of you, Alex.”
“Do you?” I shot back, standing and closing the distance between us. My hand brushed her cheek, deceptively gentle. “Because last I checked, you signed it over to me.”
Her breath caught, and I saw the conflict in her eyes. She hated me in these moments-hated the control I wielded over her. But she also craved it, the safety of my dominance, even if she wouldn’t admit it.
As the night wore on, we worked in tense silence. She poured over documents, her brows furrowed in concentration, while I watched her, a predator stalking its prey.
When she finally looked up, exhaustion etched into her features, I saw something else-something she was trying to hide.
“What’s on your mind, Isabella?” I asked, my voice low.
“Nothing,” she said quickly, too quickly.
“Liar.”
She flinched at the word, and I knew I’d struck a nerve.
Before I could press further, my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at the screen, my blood running cold at the message displayed.
“You thought you could bury the past, Ricci? Think again.”
My jaw tightened, and I felt Isabella’s eyes on me, her curiosity piqued.
“What is it?” she asked, her voice tentative.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I said, sliding the phone into my pocket.
Her gaze lingered, suspicion clear on her face. She wasn’t stupid-far from it-but there were things about my life she was better off not knowing.
As the clock struck midnight, Isabella stood, stretching her arms above her head. The movement was innocent, but my eyes traced the curve of her body, my desire simmering just beneath the surface.
“I’m going to bed,” she announced, her tone daring me to challenge her.
I smirked. “Not yet.”
She froze, turning to face me. “What now?”
I stepped closer, my fingers brushing a strand of hair from her face. “You’ll sleep in my room tonight.”
Her eyes widened, a mix of anger and something else-something she didn’t want to admit.
“You can’t keep doing this,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
“Oh, but I can,” I replied, my lips brushing against her ear. “And you’ll let me because deep down, you want this as much as I do.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but the words never came.
“Go ahead, Isabella,” I taunted. “Run. But know this-I always catch what’s mine.”
Her eyes burned with defiance, but she didn’t move.
“Good girl,” I murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
As she turned to leave, my phone buzzed again, and I glanced at the screen.
“You’ll lose her like you lost the others.”
My hand tightened around the phone, and I knew one thing for certain-my past wasn’t just knocking. It was breaking down the damn door.
“You’ll lose her like you lost the others.”
Whose threat was this, and what part of Alex’s buried past was clawing its way back to the surface?