★★★★★★
Isabella barely slept.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt Alessandro's mouth on hers, burning, claiming. She hated herself for replaying it over and over, for remembering the rough way he held her, the softness beneath his command.
By dawn, she was raw and furious.
She dressed quickly, choosing a plain dress that didn't belong in a marble palace. She wanted to remind herself she didn't fit her, that she didn't belong to Alessandro Vitelli.
Yet, when she stepped into the breakfast hall, he was already there. Seated at the head of the long mahogany table, espresso in hand, black shirt perfectly tailored. He looked like sin made flesh.
And worse—he looked amused.
---
"You didn't sleep," Alessandro observed, his eyes flicking over her face.
Isabella clenched her jaw. "Neither did you."
"True," he admitted, sipping his coffee. "But for different reasons, I suspect."
The nerve of him. She sat as far from him as the table allowed, her spoon clattering too hard against the porcelain.
"You think you can toy with me," she hissed.
Alessandro tilted his head, his gaze sharp and unyielding. "Toy with you? Isabella, last night was no game."
"Then what was it?" Her voice rose. "A test? A punishment? Do you seduce every debtor's daughter to make them easier to control?"
The silence that followed was suffocating. His expression hardened, the amusement draining from his features.
"Careful," he said softly. Too softly. "You're in my house. My rules."
---
The door opened before she could retort. A man stepped in—tall, broad, his jacket stretching over muscle, eyes scanning the room with soldier's precision.
"Boss," he said, nodding to Alessandro. "They're waiting."
Alessandro's expression shifted, cold and businesslike. He stood, straightening his cuffs.
"Eat," he told Isabella, his tone sharp with command. "Stay here. Don't wander."
Her fists clenched under the table. "I'm not your prisoner."
Alessandro paused at the door, his eyes cutting back to her with a darkness that made her breath falter. "You don't know what it means to be a prisoner, Isabella. Not yet."
And then he was gone.
---
Curiosity was a dangerous thing.
But Isabella had always been curious.
The moment the echo of their footsteps faded, she rose from the table and followed. She kept to the shadows, trailing down the hall until voices carried from a heavy oak door left ajar.
Inside was a room unlike any other in the estate. No marble, no chandeliers—just concrete walls, steel tables, and maps spread wide. Guns lined one side like tools of a trade. Men stood around Alessandro, waiting.
Her breath caught.
This wasn't a house. It was a kingdom. And Alessandro wasn't just a wealthy heir—he was a ruler.
---
She didn't hear the footsteps until a hand closed on her arm.
Isabella gasped, spinning to find the broad man from earlier. His grip was iron, his eyes sharp with warning.
"You shouldn't be here," he muttered.
Before she could answer, Alessandro's voice cut across the corridor.
"Bring her in."
Isabella froze as she was dragged into the war room. Every head turned. Maps, weapons, cold eyes—it was like stepping into another world.
Alessandro stood at the center, his presence towering, dangerous.
"Curious little bird," he murmured, his gaze burning into her. "I told you not to wander."
---
Her chin lifted despite the fear clawing at her chest. "Maybe I wanted to see the monster for myself."
A ripple went through the men. Some smirked, some frowned. But Alessandro—he only moved closer.
"And what do you see?" he asked, his voice low, intimate despite the audience.
Her throat tightened. "A man who hides behind silk while ruling with blood."
Something flickered in his eyes—danger, yes, but also… admiration.
"Leave us," Alessandro ordered suddenly.
The men hesitated, then filed out silently, leaving the room heavy with tension.
When the door shut, Alessandro's mask slipped. He advanced, slow and deliberate, until Isabella's back hit the cold wall.
"You think you see me," he whispered, caging her in with his body. "But you have no idea what I am."
Her heart thundered. "Then show me."
For a heartbeat, silence. Then his mouth crashed onto hers.
This kiss was worse—hotter, rougher, reckless. His hand gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him, while the other pinned her wrist to the wall. She gasped against him, her body arching despite her mind screaming to resist.
Every part of him was fire and steel. Every part of her wanted to burn.
When he broke away, his breath was ragged, his forehead pressed to hers.
"You're chains, Isabella," he growled. "Silk chains that bind me tighter than any debt."
Her eyes widened. "And you...you're blood. The very thing I should fear most."
They stood there, locked in a storm of desire and danger, until the door creaked again.
"Boss," a voice interrupted, cautious.
Alessandro stepped back instantly, his mask sliding into place. "Out," he barked, not even glancing at the man.
But Isabella saw it—the slip, the crack. And she knew.
This wasn't just a game anymore.
They were both already ensnared.