Chapter 4: The Devil’s Collar

From Alex's POV

The heavy silence in Alex's office was like a thick, suffocating blanket, pressing in on Isabella as she kneeled, her gaze fixed on the cold marble floor. She could sense Alex’s looming figure before her, like a storm that wouldn't break but instead simmered and taunted. The collar he’d placed in front of her was black leather, elegant yet fierce, a sign of his possession and control over her.

“Put it on,” his voice broke the silence, low, commanding.

Isabella glanced up, catching his steely gaze for just a heartbeat. There was that familiar pull of dread and excitement—he was her boss, her husband on paper, and, most painfully, her captor. She swallowed hard and reached for the collar, fingers trembling.

“Daddy,” she whispered, lips almost brushing the cold leather, “why the collar?”

Alex’s lip twisted in a barely-there smirk. “You’re mine, sweetheart. This makes sure everyone knows it. I don’t like repeating myself.”

The collar snapped around her neck with a quiet finality, and she could feel her heart pounding against its firm restraint. She wanted to argue, to break away from this suffocating grip he had on her life, but a part of her liked it. Hated that she liked it.

“You’ll wear it every day,” he continued, leaning back in his chair, observing her like a lion would a mouse. “And every night, you’ll strip, kneel, and ask for your wants. I think it’s time you understand exactly where you stand in my life, Isabella.”

Her stomach twisted as his words sank in. He didn’t just want her body—he wanted her obedience, her mind, her complete submission. And yet, her mind rebelled.

“What if I refuse?” she challenged, attempting a flicker of her once-powerful resolve. A soft chuckle escaped his lips.

“Refuse, and we both know where you’ll end up, sweetheart,” he leaned forward, his fingers tracing along her jaw, tilting her face up to meet his piercing gaze. “You need me, even when you despise me. So let’s not play pretend. You and I both know who’s in control here.”

A spark of defiance surged within her, but his hand on her chin anchored her in place, reminding her of her limitations, her reality. She didn’t move. Couldn’t.

“Good girl,” he whispered, his voice a velvet threat that sent a chill down her spine. “You’re learning.”

That night, Alex’s command echoed in her mind as she paced her room, fingers brushing over the collar, tracing its sleek outline. She hated how it felt—constant, unyielding, cold. A reminder of his power over her. It was an inescapable tether to him, and yet… she didn’t take it off.

She was his, like it or not. And tonight, she had to go to him, show herself, and beg for what she wanted. Her pride fought against every fiber of submission, but deep down, a raw yearning burned, one she couldn’t shake. It was him; it had always been him. She craved the touch that broke her down only to build her back up again.

With one last, shaky breath, Isabella walked into his study, every step feeling like a surrender.

“Daddy,” she whispered, dropping to her knees, unable to meet his gaze.

He looked at her for a long, heavy moment, and then his voice sliced through the silence. “You broke a rule today.”

Her heart stopped. She didn’t even realize… “W-what?”

“You hesitated to wear the collar,” he said, leaning down, his tone as smooth as ice. “You dared to question me.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but he silenced her with a finger pressed to her lips. “Shh. Tonight, I teach you why I’m not a man to be questioned.”

The punishment that followed was swift, brutal, and yet… electrifying. Each smack of his hand left a burning imprint on her, a mark of possession, and she couldn’t help the way her body betrayed her, arching toward him with every touch. It wasn’t pain—it was a reminder. She belonged to him, and her body knew it even if her mind rebelled.

Later, as she lay in his arms, worn, breathless, and teetering on the edge of some dangerous emotion, Alex’s voice softened, almost vulnerable, a rarity for a man as cold as him.

“Isabella,” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face, “you have no idea what you’ve done to me.” His words barely above a whisper.

Her heart raced as she stared up at him, the fire in his gaze replaced by something darker, deeper. She wanted to ask, to push for an answer. But as his mouth pressed against her skin, branding her as his once again, she knew she couldn’t. There was something in his past, something he refused to reveal. She was merely a pawn in a game she didn’t understand.

But in that fleeting moment, she felt the intensity of his emotions—raw, possessive, and strangely… protective. She knew, even as she lay broken and bound to him, that Alex Ricci was a dangerous man. And she, a woman caught in his web, was at his mercy, whether she wanted to be or not.

Before she left his room, he caught her wrist, pulling her close, his breath hot against her ear.

“Tomorrow, Isabella, we’re going to make things… interesting,” he whispered. “You’ll be at my side for the next family meeting. And there’s something you should know before you make any foolish moves.”

“What is it?” she breathed, heart pounding.

He leaned in, his gaze blazing with a mixture of desire and something darker. “I’m not the only one who’s watching you, sweetheart. There are others who would do worse to have you.”

His words left a shiver down her spine, her mind reeling with fear and intrigue. What exactly had she gotten herself into?