Isabella’s POV
Alex’s penthouse was eerily quiet, the type of silence that made my skin crawl. The floor-to-ceiling windows reflected the city lights, their glow muted by the rain streaking down the glass. I clutched the glass of wine in my hand, not sipping, just holding. I hated this feeling-like I was a pawn in his elaborate, twisted chess game.
He wasn’t home yet, but his presence loomed like a storm cloud ready to burst.
“Always late,” I muttered under my breath. My voice sounded smaller than I’d like, even to myself. The faint hum of the elevator jolted me from my thoughts, and my pulse quickened.
The doors slid open, and there he was. Black suit, black tie, and those cold, predatory eyes. Alex Ricci, my captor in a world of his own making.
“You’re drinking alone now?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine.
I shrugged, feigning indifference. “Why not? You’re always out playing king of the underworld.”
His lips twitched, a hint of amusement-or annoyance-I couldn’t tell. “Careful, Isabella. That mouth of yours has consequences.”
### *Transition Section: The Power Struggle*
“Consequences?” I set the glass down with a little too much force. “Is that what you call this? You pull the strings, and I dance like your perfect little puppet?”
He stepped closer, closing the space between us with deliberate slowness. My heart pounded. I hated how he made me feel-weak, exposed, alive.
“You signed the contract,” he said, his voice calm but sharp. “Every rule, every clause. This is what you wanted.”
I scoffed, crossing my arms. “Wanted? You blackmailed me into this.”
“And yet, here you are.” He reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from my face. His touch was deceptively gentle, and it pissed me off. “Wearing my collar. Drinking my wine. In my home.”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” I snapped, stepping back. “This collar is just a piece of metal. It doesn’t mean anything.”
His eyes darkened, and the air between us grew heavier. “Careful, Isabella. Words like that make me think you need a reminder of who you belong to.”
I glared at him, my pulse racing. “I belong to no one.”
### *Dialogue Section: The Dance of Defiance*
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. “You’re wrong,” he said softly, almost mockingly. “You’ve belonged to me from the moment you signed that contract. Maybe even before that.”
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” He took another step closer, forcing me to back into the edge of the counter. “Tell me something, Isabella. Why haven’t you walked away? Why haven’t you tried to break free?”
“Because I can’t,” I shot back, my voice shaking despite my best efforts. “You’ve made sure of that.”
His lips curved into a smirk, but his eyes remained cold. “Admit it, Bella. You don’t want to leave. You like this-us. The fire. The fight. The way I make you feel.”
“You’re insane,” I whispered, though my resolve was crumbling under his gaze.
“Say it,” he pressed, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Say you’re mine.”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words suffocating. “Never.”
His smirk disappeared, replaced by something darker. “Is that your final answer?”
I didn’t reply. I couldn’t.
He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. “Be careful, Bella. Defiance only gets you so far. You might not like what happens next.”
The words hung in the air like a threat, and my stomach twisted. But before I could respond, his phone buzzed loudly, breaking the tension.
He glanced at the screen, his expression shifting. For the first time tonight, I saw something close to uncertainty flash across his face.
“What is it?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
His jaw tightened, and he slipped the phone back into his pocket. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
But his tone said otherwise.
“Alex,” I pressed, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Stay here,” he ordered.
“Wait-”
“I said stay, Isabella.” His voice was sharp, final. And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone with more questions than answers.
I stared at the closed elevator doors, my mind racing. Something was wrong. I could feel it. And whatever it was, it had just pulled Alex Ricci-my cold, unshakable tormentor-into its grip.
I paced the living room, my heels clicking against the marble floor, each step louder than the furious beating of my heart. The air felt heavy, charged. Alex had been gone for hours, handling some “business.” Mafia business. Dangerous business. The kind that made me sick to my stomach.
The collar around my neck-a symbol of his control-felt tighter tonight. Like it knew my thoughts were slipping, wandering into forbidden territory. I wasn’t supposed to question him, wasn’t supposed to care. But hell, I couldn’t help it.
When the door slammed open, I jumped, my breath hitching.
Alex stood there, his shirt unbuttoned just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of the tattoos snaking up his chest. His face was unreadable, but his eyes-God, those eyes-burned right through me.
“You’re still awake?” His voice was gravelly, rough like sandpaper but somehow silkier than sin.
“You didn’t call.” My voice wavered, and I hated it.
“I don’t need to,” he snapped, tossing his jacket onto the couch.
I swallowed the retort rising in my throat. No, Isabella, don’t poke the bear tonight.
“Come here,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.
I hesitated, my feet rooted to the floor. “Why?”
He smirked, the kind of smirk that made my pulse race and my temper flare. “Are we playing that game again, Bella?”
I crossed my arms, trying to summon a shred of dignity. “You don’t own me, Alex.”
He closed the distance between us in three strides, his hand wrapping around my wrist like a vice. “Don’t I?”
His touch burned, his grip firm but not painful. I hated how my body reacted-how my breath hitched, how my knees threatened to buckle. He tilted his head, studying me like a predator sizing up his prey.
“You’re shaking,” he murmured, his voice softer now, almost mocking.
“I’m not scared of you.”
“No?” His free hand brushed a strand of hair from my face, his fingers lingering against my cheek. “Then why does your pulse give you away?”
Damn him. Damn that stupid, sexy smirk.
“Where were you?” I blurted, my voice sharper than I intended.
His eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”
“Because I-” I stopped myself. Too late. His smirk grew.
“Because you…?” he prompted, leaning in closer.
“I was worried,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
He let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating through me. “You’re a terrible liar, Bella.”
“I’m not lying!”
His hand moved to my chin, tilting my face up to meet his gaze. “You’re worried because you’re mine. Because no matter how much you fight it, you need me.”
“I don’t need-”
His lips crashed against mine, cutting off my protest. It wasn’t gentle; it was fire and fury, a battle of wills in the form of a kiss. My hands pushed against his chest, but it was useless. I was losing, drowning in him.
When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, my thoughts scrambled.
“You were saying?” he teased, his voice laced with arrogance.
I glared at him, wiping my lips with the back of my hand. “You’re insufferable.”
“And you love it.”
The room felt smaller, the air between us crackling with unspoken words and untamed emotions. He stepped back, his expression darkening.
“There’s something you’re not telling me,” I said, crossing my arms again.
“You don’t need to know everything,” he replied, his tone clipped.
“That’s not how this works, Alex.”
He ran a hand through his hair, looking torn for a split second before the mask was back. “You want the truth, Bella? You can’t handle it.”
“Try me,” I challenged, my voice steady despite the knot in my stomach.
He stared at me for what felt like an eternity before speaking. “If you knew what I did tonight, you’d run. And I wouldn’t stop you.”
The vulnerability in his voice caught me off guard, but I refused to let it show. “You don’t scare me, Alex.”
He stepped closer again, his hand resting on my collar. “You should be scared. Of me, of what I am.”
I looked him straight in the eye, refusing to back down. “Maybe I’m scared of what I’m becoming.”
His hand tightened, just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “You’re mine, Isabella. Don’t forget that.”
Before I could respond, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it, his expression hardening.
“What is it?” I asked, sensing the shift in his mood.
He grabbed the phone, his jaw clenching as he read the message.
“Stay here,” he ordered, his voice cold as steel.
“Alex-”
“Stay. Here.”
And just like that, he was gone, leaving me alone with more questions than answers.
But one thing was clear: whatever was happening, it was bigger than me. Bigger than us.
I touched the collar around my neck, the weight of it heavier than ever.
What the hell have I gotten myself into?