Page 39 of Dangerous Beginnings

“My forgiveness means nothing to you. You are already beyond that,” he says, his voice now barely a whisper, but it feels like a gunshot in the silence.

My blood turns to ice, and my heart skips a beat. The room is suddenly too small, too suffocating. His voice curls around me, wrapping me in a toxic embrace that seeps into my veins, poisoning me from within. This is a man who doesn’t forgive. A man who doesn’t give second chances. This is a man who will break me.

Chapter 25

The Second Punishment

Isabella

“You really thought you could investigate me,solnyshko?” His voice breaks the silence, low and dangerous. He steps forward, and I instinctively take a step back, even though I know it won’t make a difference. “You thought I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t find out?”

He tilts his head, his eyes narrowing as he studies me. “No, I don’t think so. You knew exactly what you were doing. You intended to provoke me from the very start, didn’t you?” His voice grows colder, more contemptuous. “You wanted to see how far you could push, how much you could expose. How stupid must you be to think you could get away with it?” He steps even closer, closing the distance between us with every word. “Tell me, Isabella, why would you do something so foolish? What were you hoping to gain? What did you think would happen?”

There’s no escape from his gaze, and no way to answer without revealing the truth of my reckless curiosity, my hunger for something more—something I wasn’t ready for. Foolish to think I could explore the depths of his darkness without him noticing. I’d let my curiosity take hold and went deeper than I ever should have into his world. And now, it is beyond forgiveness.

He steps closer again, each step a reminder of just how much control he holds over me. I can feel my pulse quicken, my breath growing shallow. There’s no way out of this.

“I’ve been patient with you, Isabella,” he says, his voice soft, almost thoughtful like he’s reflecting on a choice he’s already made. “Patient with your little investigations. With your littlegames. But you’ve crossed a line. And now, there’s no going back.”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. My heart is hammering in my chest, a mix of dread and something else—something darker that I can’t quite name. I want to run, but I know it’s too late for that. His lips curl into something resembling a smile, but it’s not kind. It’s the smile of someone who knows exactly how much control they have, and how much they enjoy wielding it.

“You wanted to know the truth,” he says, his voice low, almost amused. “You wanted to peek into my world, understand what makes me tick. But now that you’ve done it, you realize how stupid you were.”

His gaze never wavers, not even as he steps even closer. The air between us crackles with tension so thick I can taste it on my tongue, a dangerous electricity that coils around me, making it impossible to think clearly. His every movement and step is measured, controlled, and deliberate. He’s a predator, and I’m the prey, cornered with no way out. He stops right in front of me, towering over me as if he’s claimed the very space around us, taking up every inch of it. I try to force myself to look away, but his presence is suffocating, demanding my attention. His breath, hot and dangerous, brushes against my ear as he leans in just a little closer.

“Sit,” he commands, his voice firm, final. It’s not a request; it’s an order.

I hesitate for a moment, my legs trembling, but I obey. My body moves as if it’s no longer my own, my mind screaming at me to stand my ground, yet my limbs betray me. I walk toward the chair in the center of the room, the only place where I can sit without feeling like I’m under constant scrutiny.

As I lower myself into the chair, I feel his presence looming over me, his form blocking out the light, shadowing my everymove. He moves in behind me, his hands resting on the armrests of the chair as he leans down, trapping me in place, his body a wall of controlled power. The closeness of him sends a shiver down my spine, but I dare not move, dare not breathe too loudly.

His suit is dark, the material sleek and tailored to perfection, hugging his powerful frame in a way that only accentuates his physical dominance. The sleeves of his jacket stretch over his muscular arms, the cuffs almost too tight, and the veins running beneath his skin seem to pulse with a life of their own. My eyes are drawn to the raw power in his movements, the casual way he leans in—nothing rushed, just deliberate and controlled.

As he shifts slightly, I catch a glimpse of the tattoos rising up his neck, the intricate rose design stretching across the expanse of his skin. The dark ink seems to snake across the edges of his collar, creeping up towards his jawline, and I can’t look away. It’s a strange contrast—soft, delicate petals of the roses intertwined with sharp, jagged thorns. The tattoos seem to tell a story of their own, one I’m not sure I want to hear. His neck is like the rest of him: dangerous, beautiful, and impossible to ignore.

His lips are almost brushing my ear when he speaks again, his voice a low growl that makes my skin prickle. “Tell me, Isabella, don’t you think it’s polite to offer your guest something to drink? Or are you too caught up in your little game to remember the basics of hospitality?”

A dark chuckle rumbles from his chest, a sound that’s anything but reassuring. “But don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of chances to make it up to me.” His words drip with malice, and the promise behind them is more terrifying than anything he’s said before. “I’ll be coming around more often. After all, there are many ways for you to serve me, whether that’s a drink, or something else entirely.”

My heart hammers in my chest, a mixture of dread and something else—a sickening sense of helplessness—spreadingthrough me as his words sink in. His presence presses down on me, suffocating me, and I feel a shiver run down my spine. I hate myself for how my body responds to him. The air feels thick with tension, and despite my fear, there’s something else—something darker—coiling deep inside me, like a forbidden curiosity. I hate that I can feel it, that a part of me is drawn to him, even now.

His eyes darken as he leans in even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, something low and chilling. “I’ll make sure you get a front-row seat to everything that happens in my world. Did you want to peek into it? Well, now you’ll get more than you bargained for. If you play by my rules, if youobeymy every wish, you might just walk away from this alive. But if you step out of line... Well,” he trails off, his smile cold and knowing. “You’ll end up in a body bag, and no one will ever know what happened to you.”

His proximity is overwhelming, his presence consuming every ounce of the space around us. I want to look away, to break free from his hypnotic grip, but I can’t. There’s a strange magnetism in him that I can’t ignore, even as fear coils tighter in my gut. How much further can I go before the fear breaks me? How much more of this game can I play before I lose everything?

The warning is clear—there is no escape now. No redemption. Only the consequences of my own actions.

I try to summon what little pride I have left, but it crumbles under the weight of his next words. “From now on, Isabella,” his voice is a cold, calculated promise, “whenever I ask something of you, you will obey. You will beg for my forgiveness, and perhaps, if you’ve earned it, I’ll decide to grant it once more.’

Chapter 26

With Good Faith

Isabella

The sunlight feels like a betrayal. It slips through the cracks in the curtains, casting soft shadows that twist across the room, but all I see is the memory of his eyes—cold, knowing, and unrelenting. My chest aches as though something inside me has been broken, fractured beyond repair. I wake up tangled in sheets, the scent of his cologne still clinging to my skin, a constant reminder that last night was not a dream.

It wasn’t a dream. It was a nightmare that has no end.

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