Chapter 3 :Torn Strings and Secrets

From Isabella's POV

Isabella’s mind buzzed as she pulled up to the massive wrought-iron gates, the barrier to Alex’s world. She inhaled sharply, bracing herself, knowing what the night might demand. Despite her resentment, there was something magnetic about his dark control, a pull she hated to admit even to herself.

As she stepped out of her car, the chilled night air stung her cheeks. She gave the gates one last look, a symbol of the boundaries she could never cross—at least not without his permission.

Walking through the dimly lit hall, she felt her nerves firing up. There he was, lounging in his tailored suit, eyes like obsidian. His gaze followed her with that usual, unreadable calm, the flicker of a cold, possessive grin playing on his lips.

“Good evening, Bella,” he murmured, low and dangerous.

“Evening, Alex.” Her voice almost faltered, but she kept her head high.

“Did you forget?” He stood, crossing the room with deliberate steps until his presence towered over her. His fingers lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.

“Forget?” She swallowed, barely able to breathe under his touch.

“My title.” The command was unmistakable.

Her pulse quickened. “Good evening... Daddy.” The word caught in her throat, familiar yet always strange, sending a dark thrill down her spine. His smirk deepened, and for a second, she could almost see a flash of something warmer in his eyes. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, leaving only his cold intensity.

“Tonight, we’re discussing... our contract.” His voice dropped to a near whisper, eyes blazing. “Seems you’ve forgotten a few terms.”

Her pulse raced as he spoke. That contract was her cage, binding her to this life of midnight phone calls and possessive glances.

“You’re mine, Bella,” he continued, stepping closer, “to see, to control. And I don’t tolerate... oversight.”

“I don’t need reminding.” She stiffened, straightening her spine, though his closeness made her skin prickle.

“Oh, I think you do.” His fingers traced a slow line along her jaw, setting her whole body on fire. “You belong to me, and every inch of you will learn that lesson. Shall we start?”

She bit her lip, hating the way his words twisted her insides. The contradiction burned, like poison laced with honey. She knew the contract’s clauses—each one written to control her every move, reduce her to his obedient... whatever he chose.

“I won’t beg,” she spat out, lifting her chin.

“Then suffer, Bella.” His voice was a razor’s edge. His grip tightened as he led her to the leather couch, his hands rough yet mesmerizing. “You’ll beg by the end of the night. For everything.”

Later, as the room fell quiet, he lay beside her, the barest trace of satisfaction on his face. Silence stretched between them, too thick to break, yet neither moved. She wondered, for a fleeting second, if he’d speak—if he’d say something that wasn’t an order or command. But as always, he stayed silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

“Why this, Alex?” Her voice was almost a whisper, heavy with unsaid questions. She wasn’t supposed to ask, she knew, but the words slipped out. “Why keep me around like this?”

He turned, dark eyes narrowing, a look that dared her to regret asking.

“Do you think this is love?” His voice was mockingly gentle, each word a blow. “Because if you do, you’re deluding yourself.”

A bitter laugh escaped her. “Trust me, I’d know better.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” His tone was final, slamming shut any hope she might’ve had of hearing otherwise.

The silence hung heavier, almost unbearable. The distance between them felt vast despite their closeness.

“I used to think... we had something,” she said softly, unable to stop herself. “Or that we could.”

“And now?”

“Now I know better.” She paused, searching his face, but he showed nothing—just that icy mask, unyielding and impassive.

“Then don’t get attached, Bella,” he said with a smirk that was anything but warm. “You’ll only end up hurt.”

She swallowed hard, cursing herself for wanting more than his cold, twisted version of affection. But even as her mind screamed to walk away, her heart was bound—chained to the man who had turned her world upside down.

As she rose to leave, his hand reached out, fingers brushing hers in a gesture that was almost... tender. She froze, feeling his warmth, a faint glimmer of something hidden beneath the surface. But before she could say anything, he released her, gaze hardening again.

“Remember, Bella,” he said, voice low and sharp, “you signed up for this.”

As she walked down the hall, heart pounding, her phone buzzed with a message. She didn’t need to look to know who it was from. One line, chilling yet tantalizing:

“Tomorrow night. Same time. And don’t keep me waiting.”