Isabella’s POV
The air in the room was colder than usual, though it wasn’t from the temperature. No, this frost came straight from Alessandro Ricci himself-the devil in an Armani suit. He sat across from me, his legs casually crossed, his hand swirling a glass of whiskey like it held all the secrets of the world.
“You’re too quiet, Bella,” he drawled, his voice dripping with that infuriating confidence that made me want to both slap him and-well, never mind.
I arched a brow, keeping my voice steady. “Just savoring the silence, Alex. Not everything has to revolve around you.”
His smirk was infuriatingly slow. “Ah, but you make it so easy.”
God, I hated how easily he crawled under my skin, planting himself there like some untouchable king. And yet, I couldn’t ignore the flutter low in my stomach whenever he used that smug, teasing tone.
“I’m here for the contract,” I snapped, breaking the tension before it smothered me. “Not to entertain your ego.”
He leaned forward, setting the glass down, his gaze pinning me in place. “You sure about that?”
I was never sure about anything when it came to Alessandro. His moods shifted like quicksand, and every word that fell from his lips was a carefully placed trap. This wasn’t just business to him. It never was.
He reached for the papers in front of him, flipping through them casually, but I could feel the weight of his scrutiny, even without his eyes on me.
“Do you trust me, Isabella?” His question was so sudden, so low, it felt like a blade slipping between my ribs.
“Trust you?” I scoffed, crossing my arms. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
He chuckled darkly, shaking his head. “Careful, baby girl. You’re starting to sound like you think I’m the bad guy here.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I bit out. “You’re not the villain. Just… a complication.”
His gaze snapped to mine, and something flickered there-something raw and unguarded, gone in an instant. “And what does that make you?” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost dangerous.
“Smart enough not to fall for your bullshit,” I said, though the tremor in my voice betrayed me.
His grin widened, but there was no humor in it. “Keep telling yourself that, Bella. Let’s see how long you last.”
His words lingered, curling around me like smoke, impossible to escape. My pulse quickened as he stood, closing the distance between us with maddening slowness.
“Tell me something,” he said, his tone deceptively light. “Why do you keep coming back?”
“I-” My throat tightened, every excuse I’d rehearsed suddenly vanishing under the weight of his stare. “Because I don’t have a choice.”
He laughed, the sound rich and rough, sending a shiver down my spine. “There’s always a choice, Isabella. You just hate the one you’ve already made.”
I stepped back, trying to put space between us, but he followed, his hand curling around my wrist, pulling me closer. His grip wasn’t harsh, but it was firm, unyielding. “Stop running,” he said, his voice low and deadly serious. “You signed this contract, sweetheart. You don’t get to pretend you didn’t know exactly what that meant.”
Anger flared in me, hot and consuming. “You don’t own me, Alex.”
“Don’t I?” His eyes darkened, his thumb brushing against the pulse in my wrist, a silent reminder of how easily he affected me. “You’re wearing my collar, aren’t you?”
I froze, every nerve ending sparking at his words. The collar-his damn mark-felt heavier around my neck. I hated how much it both infuriated and thrilled me.
His lips curled into a dangerous smile, leaning in just enough that his breath ghosted over my cheek. “Keep fighting me, Bella. It only makes the game sweeter.”
I yanked my wrist free, glaring up at him, my voice trembling with frustration. “You think this is a game?”
He didn’t answer, just stepped back, his eyes glittering with something unreadable. “Dinner. Tonight. Wear red.”
“I’m not going,” I shot back, my heart pounding.
He shrugged, his smirk still firmly in place. “You will. You always do.”
And with that, he walked away, leaving me seething in his wake. My fists clenched, my mind racing with every reason why I should defy him. But deep down, I knew he was right.
I always did.
I slammed the door behind me, the sound echoing through the cavernous hall. My heels clicked sharply on the marble floor as I paced, fury coursing through my veins. He always pushed too far. Always. Alessandro Ricci-the devil himself-was impossible.
“You think you own me?” I muttered to no one, my voice trembling with rage. “Think again.”
The collar around my neck felt heavier tonight, as if his presence lingered even when he wasn’t here. A cruel reminder of the power he held. I hated him for it. Hated myself more for how my body betrayed me every time he whispered my name.
“Breathe, Isabella,” I whispered to myself, gripping the edge of the polished dining table. “He doesn’t win. Not tonight.”
But the sound of his voice cut through my resolve like a blade.
“You’re late.” He leaned casually against the doorway, his dark eyes scanning me like prey. “Again.”
I turned to face him, every nerve in my body alive with tension. His suit was immaculate as always, but it wasn’t the tailored perfection that set him apart. It was his presence-a commanding, dangerous aura that wrapped around me, choking me without touch.
“I wasn’t aware my every move required your approval,” I snapped.
His lips curved into a slow, infuriating smile. “It does.”
I crossed my arms, stepping closer. “Newsflash, Alex. I’m not one of your business acquisitions.”
He pushed off the doorframe, closing the distance between us in two strides. “You signed the contract, Isabella. You’re mine, remember?”
“That damn contract doesn’t mean you get to-”
“Everything,” he interrupted, his voice dropping to a low growl. “I get everything, Bella. Body, mind… soul.”
My heart raced. I hated how his words tangled me in knots, how the heat between us turned every argument into a battlefield I could never win. His hand reached for the collar, his thumb brushing the metal. The touch sent a shiver down my spine.
“Take it off,” I demanded, my voice barely steady.
“No,” he said simply, his gaze locking with mine. “You don’t give orders, Isabella. You follow them.”
I clenched my fists, refusing to back down. “And what if I don’t?”
“Try” His tone was a dare, low and lethal.
“You really think you can control me forever?” I fired back, my voice rising. “What happens when I walk out that door, huh? What happens when I decide I’ve had enough of your games?”
His smirk vanished. In its place was something darker, rawer. “You don’t get to walk away. Not from me.”
“You don’t scare me,” I lied.
The space between us buzzed with unspoken truths. My breathing hitched as he stepped closer, his fingers brushing my jaw. His touch was possessive, electric, as if he was marking me without leaving a bruise.
“Good,” he murmured, his lips hovering near my ear. “Fear doesn’t suit you. But submission? That’s another story.”
The audacity of his words lit a fire in my chest. I shoved his hand away, glaring. “I’ll never be what you want.”
“Won’t you?” His chuckle was low, almost mocking. “You’re already halfway there, Bella.”
I stepped back, needing space, needing air. But he didn’t let me go. His hand caught my wrist, pulling me closer. “You can fight me all you want, but we both know how this ends.”
His eyes bore into mine, the weight of his promise hanging between us.
“Let me go, Alessandro,” I whispered, my voice cracking.
“Never.” His voice was firm, unyielding.
I yanked my arm free, anger and something I couldn’t name swirling in my chest. “You’ll regret this,” I spat, my voice shaking.
His smile returned, colder this time. “No, Isabella. You will.”
His words hung in the air as I stormed past him, my heels echoing in the silence. But as I reached the door, his voice stopped me cold.
“Run if you want, Bella,” he called after me. “But remember-there’s no escaping me.”