Alex
The room was dim, shadows dancing across the dark oak walls, my nerves tight like a bowstring. Isabella sat in the corner, her arms crossed, her sharp glare slicing through the tension. That defiance-it was like gasoline to my fire, irresistible and infuriating.
“You’re late,” I said, letting the words hang. My voice carried more edge than I intended, but she needed to know who called the shots.
She smirked, leaning back in the chair like she owned the damn place. “Traffic,” she quipped, her tone dismissive.
“That excuse is getting old, Bella.” My voice dropped an octave, and her lips tightened. “You know the rules.”
Her jaw clenched, but she didn’t break eye contact. “You and your rules, Alex. I’m not your puppet.”
“No, but you’re mine,” I shot back. My words hit their mark; I saw her flinch before she quickly masked it with indifference.
The tension was a game, but one we both played dirty.
I moved closer, my footsteps deliberate, predatory. She watched me, her defiance flickering into something else-wariness? Desire? Both. She’d never admit it, but she liked the push and pull as much as I did.
“Stand up,” I commanded.
She didn’t move. That stubborn streak of hers-goddamn, it made me wild.
“I said, *stand up.*” My tone hardened, and this time, she rose slowly, her eyes burning into mine.
“What now, Alessandro?” she asked, her voice steady but laced with sarcasm.
I stepped closer, invading her space. Her breath hitched, though she tried to hide it. “Now, you prove you still know your place.”
Her laugh was bitter. “My place? Is that what this is about? Control?”
“No,” I replied, voice soft but firm. “It’s about reminding you who you belong to.”
She tensed as I reached into my pocket, pulling out the leather collar I’d had made just for her. Her eyes widened, but she quickly masked it with a glare.
“Don’t even think about it,” she hissed, stepping back.
“Oh, I’m not thinking,” I said, smirking. “I’m doing.”
Her hands went up in protest, but I caught her wrist, pulling her close. Our faces were inches apart now, the air thick between us.
“You can’t just-” she started, but I cut her off.
“I can,” I said, my voice low, dangerous. “And I will.”
“You think a collar’s going to make me obedient?” she snapped, her words dripping with venom.
“No,” I said, tilting my head. “But it’ll remind you of what we are. What this is.”
Her lips parted, a retort forming, but I didn’t let her speak. “This isn’t about obedience, Bella. It’s about surrender. And you’re not as strong as you think.”
“Fuck you, Alex,” she spat, but her voice cracked.
I smirked. “Oh, that’s coming, sweetheart. Don’t worry.”
Her cheeks flushed, and I knew I’d struck a nerve. She hated losing control, but I could see it-she wanted this as much as I did.
She yanked her wrist free, stepping back. “You think you can keep me in line with a collar and a contract? You’re delusional.”
“Maybe,” I said, my tone calm, almost amused. “But you signed up for this, remember? Every. Last. Word.”
Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t reply. I stepped forward, closing the gap once again. “And let’s not forget, you’re not the only one with secrets, Isabella. You keep pushing, and you’ll find out just how far I’m willing to go.”
For a moment, she froze, her confidence faltering. That was the reaction I wanted.
“Is that a threat?” she asked, her voice quiet but sharp.
I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. “No, Bella. It’s a promise.”
Her breath hitched again, but before she could respond, the door burst open. One of my men stood there, his expression grim.
“Boss,” he said, glancing nervously between us. “We’ve got a problem. Armand’s men-they’re making a move.”
I straightened, my gaze never leaving hers. “Looks like our conversation’s on hold,” I said, smirking. “But don’t get too comfortable. We’re far from done.”
Her eyes followed me as I walked toward the door, a mix of frustration and curiosity burning in her gaze. And just like that, I left her with a thousand unanswered questions-and one hell of a promise.
As the door shut behind me, my mind raced. Armand’s men were playing with fire, but they had no idea who they were up against. And as for Isabella… she wasn’t ready for what came next.
The wine glass shattered before I realized I’d hurled it. Ruby liquid streaked down the wall, a mockery of the blood that always seemed to follow me. My phone buzzed again on the desk, a number I didn’t recognize.
“You’re late, Isabella,” I muttered, pacing. My shadow stretched long in the dim light of my office. She was supposed to be home hours ago. I checked my watch again. Patience wasn’t in my nature, and when it came to her, I had none at all.
The door creaked open. Her footsteps, light but deliberate, echoed in the space. She walked in without a word, head high, her black dress clinging to her curves like a second skin. Her eyes locked on mine, fire meeting ice.
“Traffic,” she said casually, shrugging out of her coat.
“Don’t lie to me.” My tone was sharp enough to slice through her nonchalance. I moved closer, my body towering over hers. “You were with him, weren’t you?”
Her lips twitched, a challenge brewing there. “Him? You mean the client you practically threw me at? Don’t act jealous, Alex. It’s beneath you.”
Jealous. The word tasted bitter. She wasn’t wrong, though. The thought of another man near her made my blood boil. “Everything about you is mine. Every breath. Every damn smile. Don’t forget it.”
Her laughter was soft, mocking. “Your leash isn’t as tight as you think.”
I gripped her wrist, pulling her closer until her perfume-something floral and faintly sweet-clouded my thoughts. “You’re pushing me, Isabella.”
“Am I?” Her voice was low, almost a whisper, yet every syllable hit like a punch. She tilted her head, studying me. “Maybe you’re scared, Alex. Scared that I’ll see through you.”
The words struck harder than they should have. I released her with a grunt, stepping back. “You know nothing about me.”
Her eyes softened for a brief second, an invitation I didn’t deserve. “And whose fault is that? You keep everyone at arm’s length, even when you’re desperate for them to stay.”
Desperate. Another truth I couldn’t admit, not even to myself.
The phone buzzed again. This time, I picked it up. A text flashed across the screen: “He knows where she is. Move now, or it’s over.”
My grip tightened on the device. A name burned in my mind-Lorenzo. The bastard had been circling Isabella for weeks, using her as leverage. My fists clenched. No one used her. No one but me.
I shoved the phone into my pocket and turned to her. “Change of plans. We’re leaving.”
She frowned. “What are you talking about?”
“No time for questions.” My voice left no room for argument. “Do as I say, or you’ll regret it.”
Her stubborn streak flared again, but something in my expression must have stopped her. She nodded, though her eyes narrowed. “Fine. But you owe me an explanation.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I grabbed her coat and my gun from the desk drawer. As we stepped into the cold night, the weight of my choices pressed against my chest. Protecting her meant dragging her deeper into my world, a world she couldn’t escape.
The car was silent as I drove, the city lights blurring past. Isabella finally spoke, her voice breaking the tension. “Alex, where are we going?”
“To end this,” I said, my grip tightening on the wheel. My eyes flicked to the rearview mirror. A dark SUV was trailing us, too close to be a coincidence.
Her hand touched my arm, grounding me for a moment. “What’s going on? Tell me.”
I glanced at her, the vulnerability in her eyes cutting through my resolve. But before I could answer, the SUV accelerated, its headlights blazing.
A crash. Metal on metal. Isabella’s scream pierced the air as the car spun out of control. My instincts kicked in. Protect her at all costs.
The car screeched to a halt. Glass shattered around us. I reached for her, pulling her close.
“Stay down,” I whispered harshly, grabbing my gun.
Her eyes widened, panic and anger swirling. “What the hell, Alex?”
“They want you, Isabella,” I said, voice low and deadly. “But they’ll have to kill me first.”
A shadow moved outside the shattered windshield. Footsteps. Slow. Deliberate.
Isabella clutched my arm. “Who is it?” she asked, her voice trembling.
I raised the gun, locking eyes with her. “The devil knocking on our door.”
The handle turned. The door creaked open.
And everything went black.