Chapter 2 : A Tangled Grip
From Alessandro's POV
She’s there—standing defiant across the room. That quiet fire in her eyes? Dangerous. Damn irresistible. Why’s she always gotta challenge me?
“You know the rules, Isabella,” I mutter, voice dropping low, feeling my control slip with every breath. “So why do you keep acting like you don’t?”
She rolls her eyes, giving me that look she knows pushes my patience. And that’s exactly why I keep her so close. Too close, maybe. Doesn’t matter.
I reach out, my hand closing around her chin, lifting it. Her pulse races under my fingers. “You think you’re some sort of martyr?” I snarl softly, my words threading between anger and something darker. Almost like pity—but nah, not that.
“Maybe I just don’t want to play your games,” she shoots back, her voice steely but soft. “Maybe I never did.”
A chuckle slips out. She’s a lawyer, for Christ’s sake. She loves games; she’s just never admitted that her favorites are the ones I set. Leaning closer, I let my lips brush her ear. “Then stop pretending, and just admit that you want this… want me.”
She shivers, but her jaw tightens, her fight like a magnetic force pulling me in. She’s mine, my contracted wife, in every sense that matters. The one thing she can’t escape? My control.
“Let’s settle something.” I walk over to my desk, back turned, letting her think for a second she has the upper hand. I can feel her eyes boring into me, waiting for my move. She’s smart. Cunning. Knows when I’m playing… and when I’m dead serious.
Without turning, I say, “Kneel.”
Silence. Just how I like it. Then a small rustle, the sound of her heels clinking against the floor as she lowers herself.
Good girl.
“See, wasn’t so hard, was it?” I walk back, circling her, savoring every second of her compliance. “Let’s not forget why you’re here, Isabella. You agreed to this… arrangement.”
She shoots me a fierce look from beneath her lashes. “Arrangement? Call it what it is, Alessandro. You bought my life, my time—”
“I bought you.”
The words settle heavy, and she doesn’t look away. Her defiance doesn’t shift an inch, and yet… there’s a flicker there. Vulnerability? Maybe. The twist of defiance meeting submission is intoxicating. But I’ve got no time for analyzing. Just one priority—making sure she remembers exactly where she stands.
“Remind me,” I say, reaching down, fingers brushing her cheek, then slipping under her jaw. “What was in that contract you signed?”
Her lips part, and there it is—a hint of something between defiance and surrender. “You know exactly what it says.”
“Humor me.” I lean down, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “What does it say, Isabella?”
Her voice tightens. “That I’m… I’m yours. Yours to… to control, to own.”
I let that hang in the air, savoring the weight of her words. It’s what we agreed on, but it’s more than a contract—it’s her word. Her commitment. Her submission, even if she can’t stand that I have it.
My grip tightens, and I let my thumb trace over her lips, her breath stuttering beneath my touch. “Every inch, Isabella. Mind, body… heart?”
She shivers but stays silent. Her silence speaks louder than words. She’s scared to give that last part away. And that’s fine. She doesn’t need to admit it. Not yet.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” I ask, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth. She hates it, I know. That part of her she keeps buried—the one that longs for this, craves the control, the touch… all of it.
“Of you? Please.” She scoffs, but the shake in her voice gives her away. “Maybe I just don’t want to be your little puppet.”
“Puppet? Sweetheart, I’d never settle for something so lifeless.” I let my fingers trail down her neck, feeling her pulse race as my hand travels lower. “I like my things… breathing.”
There’s a moment, one second too long, where her gaze drops, her defenses slipping. Vulnerable, just a flash, before she realizes it and snaps her head up, eyes fierce.
Gotcha.
“Go ahead, hate me all you want,” I murmur, letting my lips brush just close enough to hers that our breaths tangle. “Just remember, every time you say you don’t want this… it’s only making me want it more.”
The phone buzzes. I ignore it. My grip on Isabella tightens, my focus solely on her.
“You’ve got a choice,” I tell her, words low, my voice settling like a cold grip around her. “Either you learn to play by my rules… or I make you.”
She swallows, but her chin rises defiantly, the fire flickering to life again. Always testing. She has no idea that her resistance only pulls me deeper, makes me crave the chase.
“Funny. I thought you said I was already yours,” she murmurs, voice trembling, but her words hit like a challenge.
“That’s right, sweetheart,” I say, a slow, dark smile curling on my lips. “But don’t forget—when you play with fire, you get burned.”
The phone buzzes again, insistent this time. I grab it, glancing down, and in that second, Isabella slips from my grasp, rising from the floor, a gleam of victory in her eyes. But before she can take a single step back, my hand darts out, seizing her wrist.
“Leaving already?” My voice drips with irony. “Didn’t you know? The game only ends when I say so.”