The next few days were a blur of mixed emotions, and Isabella found herself walking a fine line between confusion and longing. She couldn't shake the taste of Alexander's kiss from her lips, nor the way his eyes had held hers in the aftermath. It was as if everything had shifted between them, but neither of them spoke of it. The lingering tension was palpable, hanging over them like a storm waiting to break.
Isabella buried herself in work, hoping that the relentless pace of her schedule would somehow dull the ache in her chest, but nothing worked. Alexander's presence was everywhere—his name on every email, his decisions shaping every aspect of her business dealings, even the sound of his voice echoing in her mind at night. She had been trying to avoid him, trying to keep their relationship professional, but every time she thought she had it under control, the memories of that kiss crept back in.
Her office, once a sanctuary of focus and purpose, now felt like a cage. Every corner seemed to remind her of him—his cologne lingering in the air from their last meeting, the cold intensity of his gaze burning into her thoughts. She couldn't escape it.
The sound of her phone vibrating on her desk startled her from her thoughts. She glanced at the screen, already knowing who it was.
Alexander Knight
Her heart skipped a beat as she swiped to read his message.
We need to talk.
The words were simple, direct, and to the point. But they hit her like a punch to the stomach. She had no idea what he wanted to say, but she knew it wouldn't be easy. It never was with him.
Isabella hesitated for a moment before typing back.
When and where?
It took only a few seconds for him to respond.
Tonight. My place. 8 PM.
She couldn't deny the flutter of anticipation that rose within her. There was something about the way he demanded her presence—how he never asked, but always told. It was part of the allure, part of what made Alexander Knight so impossible to resist.
The evening arrived quickly, and Isabella found herself standing outside the sleek, modern building that was Alexander's home. The view from the glass-fronted structure was nothing short of breathtaking, with the city skyline stretched out before her, the lights twinkling like stars. It was the perfect reflection of the man who owned it—cold, untouchable, and yet, undeniably captivating.
She had changed into something more casual than usual—a form-fitting black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places, paired with simple heels. It wasn't too much, but it wasn't too little either. Just enough to make an impression without giving away too much.
Taking a deep breath, she pressed the buzzer at the entrance. The door clicked open almost immediately, and she stepped inside. The soft sound of classical music drifted down the hallway, and Isabella followed the path that led her to the expansive living room.
Alexander was standing by the windows, his back to her as he looked out at the view. He turned slightly as she entered, his gaze locking onto hers with a look that was both knowing and unreadable.
"Ms. Harper," he greeted her, his voice smooth, almost too smooth. "I'm glad you could make it."
"Of course," Isabella replied, her heart beating a little faster than she would have liked. "You wanted to talk. I'm here."
He studied her for a moment, his eyes intense and almost penetrating. "I've been thinking," he said, his tone colder now, more distant. "About what happened between us. The kiss."
The words hung in the air, and Isabella swallowed hard. She had expected him to bring it up, but hearing it spoken aloud made the reality of it hit her all over again.
"I don't regret it," she said, her voice steady, though her pulse was racing. "But I'm not sure what you want from me, Alexander. Is this some kind of game to you?"
He took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. "You think this is a game?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous. "I'm not playing, Isabella. This isn't something I do lightly."
Isabella felt a flicker of something deep inside her. Something that made her want to pull away, but also something that pulled her toward him, as if her very soul was being drawn into the gravity of his presence.
"I don't know what this is," she admitted softly, her voice almost a whisper. "But I'm tired of pretending I don't feel it."
Alexander's gaze softened, though the intensity remained. "And what is it that you feel?"
She didn't have to think about it. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just as tangled up as you are."
For a moment, he said nothing, just watched her with an inscrutable expression. Then, in a movement so fast it left her breathless, he closed the distance between them, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder.
"This is dangerous," he said softly, his thumb brushing across her skin. "But I can't stop. And I won't let you either."
Before she could respond, he leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that was nothing like the first. It was deeper, more urgent. The storm that had been building between them finally broke, and Isabella gave in to it, allowing herself to be swept away by the intensity of the moment.
When they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless, their hearts racing. Isabella's mind was reeling, but one thing was clear: there was no turning back now.