Alex’s POV
The night was sharp, colder than usual, even inside my penthouse. Isabella had a way of turning up the heat and freezing me out at the same time. She stood by the window, her silhouette framed against the city lights. A storm brewed outside, and another one simmered in her quiet defiance.
“Are you done pretending you have a choice, Isabella?” My voice cut through the silence like a blade.
She didn’t flinch. Her arms were crossed, her jaw set like she was ready for war. “You think this scares me? This…” she gestured vaguely at the collar around her neck, her lips curling in a smirk. “Your rules? Your games?”
I chuckled, low and dark. “No, Bella. What scares you is how much you like them.”
Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t deny it. She wouldn’t-couldn’t. That’s the thing about control. You can fight it all you want, but deep down, it owns you. And I? I owned her.
She turned, facing me fully now, her fiery gaze locked on mine. “You don’t own me, Alessandro. You own… this.” She tugged at the collar, her fingers trembling just enough for me to notice. “But not me.”
“Is that right?” I closed the space between us in three strides, towering over her. My hand caught her wrist, forcing her to drop the act and show me the truth she tried to bury. “Say it again. Lie to me one more time.”
Her breath hitched, and for a second-just a second-her walls cracked. “Let go of me,” she hissed.
“No.” I stepped closer, until there was nothing but heat and friction between us. “That’s not how this works, Bella. You don’t get to run from me.”
“You’re delusional,” she shot back, but her voice lacked the venom I was used to. It made me grin, a slow, calculated expression that I knew would crawl under her skin.
“Am I?” I leaned in, my lips brushing against her ear. “Tell me to stop, and I will. Say the word, Isabella, and I’ll walk away.”
Silence. Her breathing quickened, her pulse racing beneath my fingertips. She wouldn’t say it. She couldn’t.
“You’re a bastard, you know that?” she muttered, trying to sound tough, but I could hear the crack in her armor.
“I’ve been called worse,” I replied smoothly, my grip loosening enough for her to pull away if she wanted. She didn’t. “But let’s not pretend you hate it.”
“I hate you” she snapped, but her body betrayed her. The way she swayed closer, the way her lips parted ever so slightly. A lie, sweet and bold on her tongue.
“Say it like you mean it,” I challenged, my voice dropping to a whisper that wrapped around her like a noose.
She shoved me-weak, pathetic, and utterly adorable. “You’re infuriating.”
“And yet, here you are,” I said, circling her like a predator. “You could’ve walked out the door weeks ago. But you didn’t. Why is that, Bella?”
Her silence was deafening. I pushed harder. “Because you’re mine. You’ve known it since the moment you signed that contract.”
Her laugh was sharp, bitter. “The contract doesn’t mean shit.”
“No, but this does.” I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at me. Her lips trembled, her resolve cracking, and in that moment, she hated me as much as she craved me. It was perfect.
The elevator dinged in the distance, cutting through the tension like a knife. Isabella’s eyes darted toward the sound, her body stiffening. I released her, watching as she stepped back, her defiance replaced by something else. Fear, maybe? Or regret?
“Expecting someone?” she asked, her voice shaking despite her best efforts to keep it steady.
I smirked. “You tell me.”
Before she could answer, the door opened, and my second-in-command, Marco, walked in. His expression was grim, his hand resting on the gun at his hip.
“We’ve got a problem,” he said, his eyes flickering toward Isabella.
Her brows furrowed, confusion and unease mingling in her gaze. “What’s going on?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I turned to Marco. “Handle it.”
He hesitated. “You might want to handle this one yourself, boss.”
I stiffened, the weight of his words sinking in. Marco didn’t hesitate unless the stakes were sky-high.
Isabella stepped forward, her voice rising. “What is it? What’s happening?”
I grabbed her arm, my grip firm but not unkind. “You stay here.”
“The hell I will!” she snapped, yanking her arm free. “I’m not some damsel you can lock away while you go play mafia king.”
My patience snapped. “This isn’t a game, Isabella. Stay. Here.”
Her defiance burned, but before she could argue, Marco stepped forward. “Boss, we don’t have time for this.”
I nodded, turning toward the door, but her voice stopped me cold.
“Alex, if you walk out that door, we’re done.”
I didn’t turn back. “You say that like it’s an option.”
And with that, I left her standing there, furious and vulnerable, as the storm outside roared louder.
Marco leaned in as we stepped into the elevator. “It’s about Isabella.”
I froze. “What about her?”
His voice dropped to a whisper. “She’s been compromised.”