Isabella’s POV
Isabella Greco sat across from him, eyes tracing the cold edges of his mahogany desk. The room was eerily silent except for the occasional clink of his pen against the leather binder, a sound that grated on her nerves. Luca’s gaze, icy and unyielding, never left her. He was used to having control, and she was… used to losing it.
“What do you want, Isabella?” His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was a sharpness to it, a threat she could feel settling deep in her chest.
Her hands tightened around the armrests of the chair, feeling the leather dig into her palms. He wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He never did. No, Luca’s questions were commands dressed up in silky tones. “I don’t want anything from you,” she shot back, her words laced with bitterness. But inside, her heart raced, and she wasn’t sure if it was the fear of his wrath or the pull of his dangerous attraction.
“Don’t lie to me,” Luca said, a smirk curling on his lips. He set the pen down with a soft thud and leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. His entire presence exuded power-power that made her feel small, insignificant, and yet… completely dependent on him.
Isabella wanted to shout, to throw something at him. To break free from this contract, from this cage he’d trapped her in. But even as she fought the urge to do something rebellious, she knew it wouldn’t change a damn thing. Not when it came to him.
“Do you like this, Isabella?” Luca asked suddenly, his voice dipping in a way that made her stomach flip. “This… game we play. The way you beg for me, knowing you’ll never get what you want unless I allow it.”
Her face flushed with heat at the words. The memories of their nights together came rushing back: the way he’d used her, demanded her submission, and always, always left her wanting more. Her body, unwillingly, betrayed her. She was still craving him, craving the fire that burned every time he touched her.
But that didn’t mean she was going to let him see it. Not this time.
“I don’t need you, Luca,” she said, her voice faltering only a little. She stood up, smoothing her skirt down as if it could somehow shield her from the intensity of his gaze.
Luca’s eyes never wavered as he stood up slowly, his tall frame towering over hers. He didn’t speak at first. Instead, his hand reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his fingers grazing her skin. A small gasp escaped her lips at the touch. He noticed, of course. He always did.
“You’re lying again,” he whispered, his voice dangerously soft.
She clenched her fists, feeling her breath quicken. “You think I’m just some puppet, huh? Someone you can control, someone you can bend to your will?” Isabella stepped back, but he followed, closing the distance between them with every move she made.
“Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” His fingers grazed the collar at her neck, the one he’d made her wear. A symbol of her submission. “You enjoy the power I hold over you. The way I control every inch of your body, of your mind. Admit it.”
Her heart pounded, her breath shallow. It was true, in a way. She hated herself for it, but the bond they shared-the connection that blurred the line between pain and pleasure-was too intoxicating to escape.
“You’ve got me twisted,” she muttered, refusing to look him in the eye.
Luca’s grip tightened around her wrist, pulling her closer until they were chest to chest. “Twisted?” he repeated, his voice almost a growl. “Sweetheart, you have no idea what twisted really means. But I’ll show you. Again and again.” His lips brushed against her ear, and Isabella shuddered.
Her mind screamed for her to break free, to pull away, but her body betrayed her every time. She wanted this-God, how she wanted him. But it was more than just the physical attraction. It was the way he controlled her. The way he knew her better than anyone else. He could break her with just a word, just a look.
And that terrified her.
“You know what you are, Isabella?” Luca murmured, his lips grazing her neck. “You’re mine. And no matter how much you fight it, you’ll always come back to me. Because you can’t stay away from me.”
The words hit her like a physical blow. She recoiled, pushing against his chest, but he didn’t budge. Instead, he smiled, that predatory grin that made her feel both helpless and alive.
She was trapped. Completely.
But that didn’t mean she had to take it lying down.
“I’m done playing your games,” she spat, her anger flaring. “I’m leaving.”
Luca’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something darker in his gaze. “Leave? You think I’ll let you walk away from me?”
Her heart skipped a beat. His tone was no longer playful, no longer teasing. It was cold. Calculating. Dangerous.
“You’re not leaving,” Luca said, his voice low, filled with a quiet menace. “Not unless I say so. And I’m not done with you yet.”
A chill ran down her spine, and her defiance wavered. But she couldn’t back down now. She wouldn’t let him win. Not like this.
The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut through the air.
“You can’t control me forever, Luca,” Isabella shot back, though doubt crept into her mind. Could he? Was she even strong enough to break free?
Before he could respond, there was a knock at the door.
Both of them froze.
“Isabella,” Luca said, his voice quiet and deadly, “You better be ready for what’s coming. You’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”
The door opened, and a figure stepped inside. Isabella’s heart skipped a beat when she saw who it was.
Luca’s eyes darkened, his expression unreadable.
And Isabella knew, in that moment, that everything was about to change.