Page 98 of Isaia

I shiver. “To do what?”

“To see you unravel while I fuck you in that dress.” His words burn a path right to my core, heat pooling there with a need to be filled. I’m trying to think of something to say, but my brain is useless while my body wants only one thing. Him.

He reaches out and touches my face with an aching tenderness. “You ready for this, troublemaker?” His thumb traces the curve of my jaw, every stroke a reminder that he’s in control—of this moment, of me, and maybe even of my heart. And damn it, I hate how much I want to hand him every piece of it.

“For what?” I whisper, and he leans in just enough to brush his lips against the shell of my ear, his breath hot and full of promises I’m not sure I’m ready to hear.

“To show the world there’s no one else who gets to have you but me.”

Chapter 30

EVERLY

The estate looms like something out of a dream, or perhaps a fairytale. It’s breathtaking in its opulence—a sprawling mansion surrounded by immaculately manicured gardens that glow under the soft shimmer of strategically placed lights.

The driveway stretches endlessly, lined with a fleet of expensive cars that glitter like jewels in the dim evening light. The air itself feels different here, humming with an aura of wealth and power so tangible it’s almost oppressive.

This is where the rules are written, bent, or broken entirely.

Isaia pulls the Ferrari to a smooth stop in front of the grand entrance, and before I can fully absorb the grandeur, a valet is already opening my door.

Isaia steps out first, his commanding presence drawing the attention of everyone nearby, and then he’s there, offering me his hand. I take it, my palm resting against his, and the heat of his touch grounds me as I step out, the soft fabric of my dress brushing against my legs.

“I’m not gonna lie,” I start. “I’m slightly nervous and a lot intimidated.”

“Don’t be. You’re going to be the most beautiful woman in the room.”

He slides an arm around my waist and pulls me close, searing my lips with a kiss that could melt through bone. He owns my mouth, his tongue tracing over mine with a fiery mastery that leaves me gasping when he finally releases me.

“Before this night is over,” he murmurs, “I’m fucking you in that dress.” The raw promise causes a rush of something hot and liquid through my bones, and I place my hand on his chest, feeling the powerful beat of his heart.

“God, you’re so romantic,” I tease.

“Only for you,” he drawls, the sound like smooth whiskey over ice.

We walk up the sweeping staircase, each step leading farther into his world, a world that’s all dark corners and forbidden secrets, as intoxicating as it is dangerous.

The inside is even more extravagant than the outside. Crystal chandeliers hang from vaulted ceilings of the grand ballroom, their golden glow casting the room in a warm, ethereal light. Every detail, from the marble floors to the intricately carved woodwork, screams wealth.

Men in sharply tailored suits and women draped in designer gowns move through the space, sipping champagne and exchanging veiled smiles. But beneath the surface, the air crackles with tension.

This isn’t just a fundraiser; it’s a stage for power plays, a silent war of dominance fought with whispered deals and measured gazes.

Isaia keeps me close, his hand resting possessively on the small of my back. The heat of it seeps through the fabric of my dress, steadying me as my eyes dart across the room, taking in the grandeur. But the deeper we move into the crowd, the more eyes Isaia’s presence demands.

Some gaze at me with frank curiosity, their eyes like knives probing delicate skin, while others avoid my gaze, their fear of Isaia palpable.

He leans in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “Breathe, baby girl.”

“It’s kind of hard to when everyone’s looking at us.”

His hand slides an inch lower on my back. “They’re wondering who you are, why you’re here. They’re trying to figure out if they should envy me, fear me…or both.”

I glance up at him, my cheeks heating. “Envy you?”

“I told you, you’re the most beautiful woman in this room. Of course, they envy me. They’d give anything to be the one with you on their arm.” He pulls me tighter to his side, his eyes pinned on mine. “But I’ll bleed them dry before they get a chance.”

It’s an explicit declaration of ownership, and though a part of me chafes at the possessiveness threading through them, another—more primal, less reasonable—thrills at the undertone of protectiveness.

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