I laughed dryly. "She's my wife."
Roman took a slow sip, unfazed. "Exactly. That's what makes it dangerous."
My jaw tightened. "You think I won’t be able to handle her?"
"I think you already can't."
I slammed my glass on the table, liquid spilling over my fingers. "Watch your mouth."
Roman flinched. "You're obsessed. You're blinded, and she knows it. You think she doesn't see how far you'll go to keep her?"
I turned away, pacing toward the window. The city lights flickered beneath us like dying stars.
"Whatever she's planning," I said, "I'll still win."
Roman chuckled under his breath. "That's your problem. You think this is a war. She might see it as something easier than war."
He stood up, finished his drink, and set the glass down with a soft clink. "You can't cage something that was born to be free, Mikhail."
When Isabella emerged, her eyes moved to the half-empty bottle on the counter.
"You've been drinking," she said softly.
I didn't answer. I just walked up to her, pulled her close, and kissed her. The kiss wasn't gentle; it was sharp, demanding, and desperate.
She didn't resist, and her hands slid up to my neck; her breath was against my lips. "What's wrong with you?" she whispered.
"Submit to me," I said again in her mouth.
She smiled faintly, with her eyes glinting like she knew what I meant. "Then, take me."
I was consumed by her. She was becoming my addiction, my fucking undoing. That night, as the city lights pierced the penthouse curtains, I dragged her to the bed with a feral growl, my hands clawing her hips, demanding.
Her dark eyes blazed with defiance as she sank down, slow and taunting, onto the silk sheets. I tore her clothes off, gripping her breasts and twisting her nipples until she gasped, her body arching into me.
She never begged, but instead, she seized my cock, stroking hard, and igniting a wildfire in my veins.
"You're mine," I declared, slamming into her soaking pussy, craving her total surrender.
But she flipped it, her legs locking around me, her nails raking my back as her cunt dripped, eyes burned into mine as I pounded her, her tits bouncing widely. Flipping her onto her stomach, I gripped her ass, driving deeper, my thumb grinding her clit until she shrieked.
Her orgasm hit like a storm, pussy clenching, pulling me into a brutal release. Collapsing, tangled, and dripping, I held her tight as we fell asleep.
The sound of a gunshot permeated the midnight silence, and I was wide awake immediately. The glass wall behind us exploded.
"Down!" I grabbed her before she could breathe, pulling her against me as shards of glass rained over the bed. She gasped, her body stiff beneath mine, but she didn't scream.
More shots followed, and bullets ripped through the curtains, tearing into the walls. My men shouted from outside the room. I rolled off the bed, dragging her with me to the floor. My gun already in my hand. "Stay down!"
Her voice was low and steady. "Who are they?"
"I don't know," I said, firing back through the shattered glass.
And in that moment, I realized it.
My first thought wasn’t of the attacker doing something against the Bratva; it was of them hurting Isabella.
She was taking over my mind.
