Alex’s POV
I leaned back in the chair, whiskey swirling lazily in my glass. The office lights were dimmed, shadows dancing across the walls like specters of my past mistakes. Isabella’s scent still lingered in the air-vanilla and something darker, sharper. It drove me insane.
She had stormed out just minutes ago, her heels echoing in the hallway, her anger crackling like a live wire. I’d pushed her too far tonight. Maybe. But hell, wasn’t that the point?
I tapped the rim of my glass, smirking to myself. The contract. That damn collar. She acted like they were chains, but I knew better. She liked the edge of submission, even if she’d never admit it out loud.
My phone buzzed on the desk. The message was short, cryptic:
“She making moves. Don’t let her slip through your fingers.”
It was from Vinnie, my most trusted enforcer. I clenched my jaw. Isabella was playing a dangerous game, one I wasn’t sure she even understood.
The door swung open without a knock. “You’ve got some nerve,” Isabella hissed, her hair wild, her cheeks flushed.
Damn. She was a vision when she was angry.
I set the glass down with deliberate slowness, savoring her fury. “Back so soon, bella mia?”
“Don’t call me that,” she snapped, crossing her arms. Her eyes were daggers. “I’m not yours.”
I chuckled darkly, standing and closing the distance between us. “Aren’t you? Shall we check the terms of our *arrangement* again?”
She flinched, but her chin lifted defiantly. “You don’t own me, Alex. Not really.”
I stepped closer, close enough to feel the heat radiating off her skin. “Tell me that when you’re on your knees tonight, begging for me.”
Her breath hitched, her resolve wavering. “You’re a bastard,” she whispered, but the words lacked venom.
“True.” I let my fingers graze her jaw, tilting her face up to meet my eyes. “But you don’t hate me nearly as much as you pretend to.”
She slapped my hand away, stepping back. “You think you’re so untouchable. So in control. But you’re not. You’re just a man hiding behind his power.”
My grin widened. “Careful, Isabella. You’re starting to sound like you care.”
The tension between us snapped when my phone buzzed again. I ignored it, but Isabella’s eyes flicked to the screen, catching the name.
“Vinnie,” she said, her tone sharp. “What’s he got to say that’s so important?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Her brows knitted together, suspicion flaring in her eyes. “You’re lying.”
I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Drop it, Isabella. You don’t want to know.”
Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You’re hiding something.”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I moved to pour another drink, my back to her. She was digging too deep, pulling threads she shouldn’t be pulling.
She marched up behind me, yanking the glass out of my hand. It shattered on the floor between us, the sound echoing like a gunshot.
“Stop treating me like a pawn, Alex!” she shouted. “I’m not one of your soldiers. If I’m in this, I deserve to know what the hell is going on.”
I turned slowly, my expression cold. “You don’t deserve anything, Isabella. You earn it. And so far, you’ve done nothing but test my patience.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t back down. “I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be,” I said, my voice dangerously soft.
Before she could respond, the office door creaked open again. Vinnie stepped in, his face grim.
“Boss,” he said, his voice low. “We’ve got a problem.”
I turned to him, my eyes narrowing. “What kind of problem?”
“It’s about Isabella,” he said, glancing at her.
Her eyes widened, fear flashing across her face for the first time.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I demanded, stepping toward him.
Vinnie hesitated, then said, “Someone’s watching her. A rival family. They know about the contract.”
The air in the room turned electric, every nerve in my body going taut. Isabella looked at me, her bravado crumbling.
“What does that mean?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“It means,” I said, my voice hard, “that you’re mine now more than ever. And no one-no one-touches what’s mine.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off, grabbing her wrist and pulling her close. “You want to play games, Isabella? Fine. But you’re playing with fire. And if you burn, don’t expect me to save you.”
Her eyes searched mine, and for the first time, I saw something deeper-fear, yes, but also trust.
Vinnie cleared his throat. “We need to move, boss. Now.”
I nodded, releasing Isabella and grabbing my coat. “You’re coming with me,” I said, my tone leaving no room for argument.
“Where?” she asked, her voice shaking.
“To show the world who you belong to.”
Her breath caught, but she followed me. She had no choice.
As we stepped into the night, I knew one thing for certain: this game wasn’t over.