Bella. Not Isabella. Not the cold detachment he used when he wanted control. No, this was personal, intimate, like he knew exactly how to crack me wide open.
“Am I supposed to kneel now?” I asked, my tone dripping with mockery. “Or should I wait until your next tantrum?”
His eyes darkened, his lips curling into that infuriating smirk. “You’ve been feisty lately. Is it because you want attention? Or because you think you’ve outsmarted me?”
I stood, shoving the papers aside. “You don’t own me, Alessandro.”
His laugh was deep, sharp, cutting through my defiance. “Sweetheart, I own everything. Including you.”
I pushed past him, heading toward the balcony for air, but his hand caught my wrist. His grip was firm, his touch electrifying. “We’re not done.”
I spun to face him. “Let me go.”
He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You signed up for this. Every kiss, every punishment, every goddamn rule. You don’t get to walk away.”
“Rules?” I shot back, yanking my hand free. “You break them every time you disappear with another woman.”
He stilled. His silence was more dangerous than his words.
“You think I care about them?” he finally said, his voice laced with venom. “They’re pawns, Bella. Distractions. You’re the queen.”
The words hit harder than I expected. My chest tightened, but I couldn’t let him see it. “Don’t use pretty metaphors to justify being an asshole.”
He closed the gap between us, his breath hot against my ear. “Call me whatever you want. But you’re still mine.”
I shoved at his chest, but he didn’t budge. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re addicted to it,” he said, his voice a challenge. “To me.”
“Arrogant bastard.”
His lips twitched. “You’re not wrong.”
I hated how my body responded, how the heat in his gaze pulled me under. “This isn’t healthy,” I whispered.
“Since when have we ever been healthy?” he shot back. “This is war, Bella. You fight me, I fight you. But in the end, you’re in my bed. Every time.”
The truth of it stung, but I wasn’t ready to admit defeat. “Maybe I’m tired of fighting.”
“You’re lying,” he said simply. “You’d be bored out of your mind without me.”
The bastard was probably right.
The sound of Alessandro’s phone vibrating on the counter broke the moment. His expression shifted, tension locking his jaw as he glanced at the screen.
“Work?” I asked, though the tightness in his eyes told me it was something more.
“Stay here,” he ordered, already moving toward the door.
“Stay here?” I repeated, incredulous. “What the hell’s going on?”
“Not now, Bella,” he snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument.
But Alessandro forgetting that I didn’t take orders was his first mistake. As soon as the door clicked shut, I grabbed his phone. The name flashing on the screen wasn’t one I recognized, but the message was enough to send my stomach plummeting.
“The shipment’s compromised. They know about her.”
Her.
Me.
The phone slipped from my hand as the realization hit. Whatever Alessandro was into, whatever dangerous game he was playing-it wasn’t just business anymore. It was personal. And I was the target.
Alex’s office was colder than usual. The chill wasn’t just in the air conditioning-it was in his stare, his tone, his f***ing aura. He was perched behind his oversized desk like a damn king on his throne, watching me with that infuriating smirk that made my blood boil and my pulse race all at once.
“Close the door,” he commanded, voice like steel wrapped in silk.
I hesitated, just for a beat. His brow arched, a silent warning. My heels clicked against the floor as I pushed it shut, trapping myself in the room with him.
“What do you want, Alex?” I spat, arms crossing defensively.
His lips twitched, amusement flashing in his icy blue eyes. “You look tense, bella. Rough night?”
“You mean, rough life?” I shot back, instantly regretting it. His expression darkened, and I knew I’d poked the bear.
He stood, his towering frame making the spacious office feel suffocating. “Careful, Isabella,” he warned, his voice low and dangerous. “You forget who’s in charge here.”
“And you forget I’m not one of your puppets,” I snapped. “You don’t own me.”
His laugh was dark, humorless. “Don’t I?” He stepped closer, invading my space. “That collar around your neck says otherwise.”
I swallowed hard, my hand unconsciously brushing against the delicate leather band. “This is just a contract,” I whispered, more to myself than him. “It doesn’t mean-”
“Everything,” he interrupted, his voice firm. “It means everything.”
The tension was thick enough to slice with a knife. He leaned in, his breath brushing against my ear. “Say it,” he murmured.
“Say what?” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my resolve.
“You know what.” His fingers grazed my jaw, tilting my face toward him. “Say it, Isabella.”
I clenched my fists, every nerve in my body rebelling against the word he wanted-no, demanded. But the contract wasn’t just words on paper. It was power, his power over me. And he wielded it like a weapon.
“Daddy,” I finally muttered, my cheeks burning with shame and fury.
“Good girl,” he purred, his tone dripping with satisfaction. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
I hated how his words affected me, how they ignited something primal inside me that I didn’t want to acknowledge. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch even as my mind screamed to pull away.
“You’re impossible,” I said, shaking my head. “This… whatever this is… it’s toxic.”
He tilted his head, studying me like I was a puzzle he’d already solved. “Maybe. But you’re still here.”
The silence stretched between us, heavy and charged. My gaze darted to the papers on his desk, a folder with my name scrawled across the top. I reached for it, but his hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.
“Ah-ah,” he chided. “Not yet.”
“What’s in it?” I demanded, yanking my arm back. “What are you hiding now?”
He smirked, his silence infuriating. “You’ll find out when I’m ready.”
I clenched my jaw, frustration bubbling to the surface. “I’m not your toy, Alex. You can’t keep playing games with me.”
His expression softened, just for a moment. “This isn’t a game, Isabella. It never was.”
Something in his voice-raw, vulnerable-stopped me in my tracks. For the first time, I saw beyond the facade, the cold exterior he wore like armor. But before I could say anything, he turned away, his back to me.
“Leave,” he said, his tone flat, emotionless.
“Alex-” I started, but he cut me off.
“Go, Isabella. Before I change my mind.”
I walked out of his office, my heart pounding in my chest. The folder stayed behind, along with a thousand unanswered questions. But as I reached the end of the hall, my phone buzzed.
A text.
Check your email. Now.
I opened the app, my fingers trembling. The email was from an anonymous sender, the subject line reading, You deserve the truth.
I clicked it open, my breath hitching as I scanned the contents. Attached were photos, documents, and one chilling message:
He’s not who you think he is. And neither are you.
My knees buckled, the weight of the words crushing me. My mind raced, a million thoughts colliding. What the hell was going on?
Before I could process it, another text came through.
Come to the docks at midnight if you want answers.
I stared at the screen, my pulse hammering. Whoever this was, they knew more than they should. And I had a feeling my entire world was about to unravel.