I know I lost the moment Ethan's fingers clung to my wrist.
Not in a loud, dramatic manner. No. This loss is quieter. More dangerous. The manner in which he moves, his hold firm but not bruised and his posture controlled. He pulls me from the ballroom, weaving through the crowd, past the shimmering chandeliers and ruffled gowns, silently talking to me and laughing in champagne glasses. There is silence between us. I don't fight him. I can't. Knowing the cost involved in creating a scene, I cannot say no. It's not when I acknowledge that I'm already standing on my feet. Why? We are watched by twelve eyes, but no one dares to intervene.’ A. Not with Ethan Sinclair. And certainly not for me. After passing the arched exit, we hear a sound from gala.? With a dim lighting system, the marble floor casts shadowy hued by warm glow from sconces in the grand hallway. Ethan stops when the doors swing in front of us. Then—. He turns. Fast. Smooth. Predatory. I'm pressed against the wall, my dress covered in cool marble, before I can react. He doesn't touch me. Doesn't confine me with his arms. He doesn't have to. His presence alone is suffocating. I snore with force. Layers of dark calculation envelop his eyes, which are unreadable. How does this work? What are you denying me? He speaks in an awkward tone. Controlled. However, beneath it lies a forceful sensation that cuts through the air.' I remain sceptical. "I have no idea what it is.". Lie. He knows it. His gaze drops. Not to my lips. Then not towards my throat, where I feel my pulse. But to my wrist. To the delicate bracelet that does not conceal what's beneath. He reaches for it. I pull my arm back. “Ethan—” is the answer. Too late. His fingers are touching mine with a surprising level of gentleness. The thin chain is slowly pushed back by him. And then he sees it. The scar. A thin line of light encircling my skin. His expression shifts. Hardens. The tension between us intensifies, exacerbating the difficulty as his fingers hammer the mark. Slow. Testing. What is on my skin that I hate? How my breath hitches. What is happening in my stomach? His voice echoes with a whisper, "Who am I?". I took my hand away. "There's no matter what.". His jaw clenches. He flicks his eyes back and forth, sharp and uncontrollable.'". “You don't believe that.”. It's my fault, and I slurp deeply. Slowly exhaling, he conveys a sense of control. "You entered my world, Isabella." His voice is delicate and menacing. He replied: "That's not an issue for you.". A tingling sensation runs down my spine. I know what he's doing. Drawing me out. Testing me. And I'm failing. The door at the entrance of the hallway squeaks. A slow and composed clapping breaks down the silence.?'... I go rigid. Elias. Before I can turn around to face him, he occupies the space. The fact that he is untouchable makes him move with arrogant behavior. With a perfect fit in his suit and an unenergetic smile, his eyes are filled with wonder. It seems like he's staring at me closely. He whispers: 'Alright, thanks, Sinclair. Ethan doesn't turn. Doesn't react. However, I sense a sudden change in his body posture. Sharper. Colder. A few feet away, Elias stops and puts his hands in the air. "Did she tell you something or did you have to dig deeper?". Ethan finally looks at him. His expression remains constant, but something in the air becomes tighter.................... “Tell me what?”. Laughing, Elias replies: "OK, that's about it." What does this mean? My stomach knots. This isn't good. The act of Elias hanging bait in front of a man who is unwilling to bite unless he knows the answer is precisely what lacked. Ethan erupts, slow and disciplined. "You're not worthy of my time." What follows? Elias raises his head. "Doesn't it seem unusual?". How does she appear unexpectedly in your surroundings? Does she hold onto you in the same way as herself? A beat of silence. Ethan looks at me with a flickering glance. Measuring. Calculating. He returns to Elias with a similar reaction. "What's your issue?". Elias grimaces. “Sinclair, you're a smart man.”. But you're making a mistake.”. Ethan hums. “Noted.”. Elias exhales through his nose. He slowly approaches me without any eye contact. I hold my ground. Barely. It's as if his eyes are peeling back the layers from me. Finally, he grimaces his face as if to say something good: "Good luck, Isabella.". A whisper. Just for me. His words ramble into my consciousness like water runs through his veins. And then he's gone. His silence is too much to bear. Ethan remains motionless for a considerable duration.' Later, he casually lifts my bracelet off the ground, his fingers scraping on the metal and stuffing it in their pockets. I exhale. Yet, my realization is that this cannot be completed.' His eyes meet mine. Something is burning inside them now, and they are dark and unreadable.' I swallow. “Ethan—”. He cuts me off. His thumb makes me look up at his. “Start talking.”. My head trembles. "I can't.". His grip tightens. “You will.”. My pulse skips. Because this isn't a request. This is a demand. The truth is, Ethan Sinclair always gets what he wants.The gala is suffocating. The reason might be different, but not from the sparkling chandeliers, sparkling champagne glasses, or a sweet aroma in the air. A. No. It's because of him. Ethan Sinclair. He can barely hold onto my wrist. The thin scar beneath my bracelet is gently brushed over by his thumb, his touch being deceptively mild. But his eyes? His eyes are razor-sharp. Where did you get this?" His voice echoed like a blade. My pulse spikes. I try to pull away. He doesn't let me. “It's nothing,” I say. Lie. He sways more and more. “Please don’t deceive me.”. Despite my heart-pounding shiver, I still managed to laugh with great force. “You have no right to demand the truth from me, Ethan.” He sighed. When you keep your own secrets, it's not possible. His jaw flexes. His speech emits a flickering light, leaving it unreadable. Before I can make sense of it, someone else smuggle in. But wait! Elias. Without any searching, I can be sure he's present. The scent of expe
Despite feeling pain in my fingers, I can't shake off the folder. From the glossy photo inside, I can see my face staring back at me - this is before my nightmare became reality. Looking up, my eyes ablaze with anger. "What's going on?". Without any hesitation, Ethan leans down on the leather seat. “I want to know why.” Hean.... I shake my head. “No. No, this—this doesn't make sense. It was my first time meeting you in person last week. Damien makes a sharp and amusing laughter from the far end of the vehicle. "Do you believe it's me?" could be the question? "I look at him with a giggle. He responds with, "Laughter!". His gaze enlarges as he faces the folder, his expression spreading. "Do you suppose Sinclair misplaced something?!". Sweetheart, the photo is not for entertainment. A coldness that reaches me causes pain in my chest. I tighten my grip on the folder and have an irregular breath. Ethan looks at me with confusion. "It's not like he ever thought anything could happen
The club is a beast. I feel the pulse of music pulsing against my flesh. Neon lights vibrate with a heart rhythm, emitting red, blue, and violet light. In a fast-paced manner, the crowd moves swiftly as their bodies approach, sweat and fragrance blend together to produce eerie feelings. I move fast. I shouldn't be here. I don't belong here. The words spoken by Ethan linger in my thoughts. Your ability to earn Elias' trust will be assured by you. You're going to betray him when it's necessary. My stomach knots. Then I see him. Elias Carter. Confident, he's dressed in the VIP area with a swirl of whiskey on his wrist. He's keeping a close eye on the room with the sharp, unassuming arrogance of someone who has all his possessions. He hasn't seen me yet. Good. I go to the bar, where I order a drink that I won't touch. I wrap my hands around the glass, feeling a sense of grounding in its warmth.' I need a plan. I need—. It was unexpected to see you in this location. The voice
I feel my hand around the phone as soon as I read the message. LEAVE NOW. YOU DON’T KNOW WHO YOU’RE PLAYING WITH.My pulse pounds. My skin prickles with unease. Someone's watching me. My breath remains firm as I look up. Even in the nightclub, there's still a sense of motion, with sweaty bodies pressing against each other, neon lights flickering and music pounding through my skull. However, the situation has changed significantly. There is someone among us who doesn't want me in this room. Despite everything, I remain in neutral and my hands grip the keys of my phone as I insert it. Quick thinking is my weakness.'". Rather than scanning the crowd, I'm not looking for someone. But I feel it. A presence. A weight rubbing against my body, unrecognisable eyes monitoring my movements. Think, Isabella. Don't panic. “Something wrong?”. The sound of Elias is clear and unsettling. My gaze focuses on him. His posture is surprisingly comfortable as he leans against the bar, but his eyes
My ribs are penetrated by the cold metal of the gun, but it's Elias holding me back. His fingers restrain my wrist—steadfast, unwavering.’ Too tight to break free. Ethan is still sitting in a serene manner across from us. Despite their weapons training, his men remain stationary. They wait. Because Ethan Sinclair doesn't react. He calculates. “You wouldn’t believe what you were.” Ethan’s voice is raspy and rasping, as if he was speaking about the weather. Elias lets out a low chuckle and then smiles. “That's not the case here.” He pulls me closer as he goes, until his breath begins to sting against his skin. "I am sure of what she'll be like, Sinclair.”. I feel a cold pulse running down my spine. Ethan's face remains unchanged, but the gentle hump in his jaw still fills me with it. “You have no intention of doing this,” Ethan confesses. Elias tilts his head, considering. Following that, he places the gun further into my body above my ribs. "I say yes," astonishedly. He nodded
I feel a sensation in my bones whenever the phone rings, which is not good. While pulling out the device, a creepy, slow crawling dreadlocks me. In the dimly lit conditions of the club, that screen gleams with mystery.' Unknown Number: Run. I fixate on it, the sole thought in my mind pumping adrenaline into my body. My hands tighten around the phone. This is the message, squeezing me like an unchecked fishpot. Ethan notices immediately. Then his gaze sharpens, he becomes fixated on me and I can't help but wonder what it is. His voice is delicate yet subdued with darkness. I don't answer. I can't. It's taking a while for me to figure out the significance of that message. A warning? A threat? A distraction? Ethan approaches, his presence throbbing. His fingers flicker, indicating impatience. "Isabellum," his tone is sharpened, demanding. My pulse was pounding and I swallowed with great force. "I don't know.". Not really. Ethan doesn't buy it. With his jaw squirting, his cold st
Ethan lets go of me. The air changes, suffocating with pressure, like an invisible weight. I gaze at him, my heart beating against my chest.. My body is unresponsive, uncertain of what I just heard. "What the hell am I doing here?" asked me. Ethan doesn't look at me. His gaze remains fixed on Elias, imperceptible and unwavering. He has no hesitation in defending his position and there is no indication of regret as his hands slip into his pockets, as if this was just a business transaction. It makes me feel a chill. "Take her," he asserts, with a composed tone. Too calm. As Elias laugh and smiles, the sound pierces my flesh like the weight of a knife. He nods and two of his men come forward, their presence obscuring my view. ". Everything inside me screams. No. This isn't happening. I take a moment to relax before the alley, but there's no way out. Black SUVs blocking the only exit and the men standing guard overshadow the walls on either side. The security team of Ethan rem
The underground garage is quiet. Too quiet. The pulsating sound of overhead fluorescent lights does not alleviate the tension in my chest. Then—. A phone rings. Not mine. Not Ethan's. One of his men, who is standing near the SUV, responds. His expression hardens instantly. He becomes stiff, his eyes moving towards Ethan.. “Sir, we've a problem.”. My wrist becomes tighter as Ethan holds onto me. With a raspy voice, he moves forward. "Talk." is the response. "The guard maintains a steady breath and then grimaces. "Security breach." is the response. A person made an effort to enter the penthouse elevator.' A previous access number was employed. Hence, Ethan's entire body tenses. “Whose?”. The guard hesitates. “Yours.”. The air shifts. A frigid, fatal silence fills the air. Upon exhaling, Ethan's head is raised. "Substantiate.". The guard continues: "Your personal access code was used by someone else. It didn't work, but they tried it a few more times and then just left.". My
“The woman at the center of the storm.”Logan Pierce’s words hung in the air like an omen, sinking into the dimly lit room like a fog, thick and suffocating.I forced my expression to remain neutral, though every nerve in my body was on edge. The way he said it, like he already knew me. Like I was some predetermined piece in a game I hadn’t agreed to play made my skin crawl.“That’s dramatic,” I muttered, keeping my voice flat.Logan’s smirk deepened, the corners of his mouth curving with something that wasn’t quite amusement, wasn’t quite malice. “Isn’t it?”Ethan wasn’t amused. “Sit.”He didn’t direct the order at Logan. He meant me.For a moment, I considered defying him. Just to remind him I wasn’t some pawn he could push around. But the weight of exhaustion settled deep in my bones, and I knew I had to pick my battles. So, I sank onto the leather couch, my arms crossing over my chest.Logan, completely at ease, took his time settling into the chair across from me, stretching out
The SUV sliced through the night like a silent predator, devouring the miles between us and the city. The hum of the tires against the road was the only sound filling the tense silence inside the car. Ethan sat beside me, his jaw tight, his fingers drumming against his knee in a steady calculated and controlled rhythm. His mind was somewhere else, far ahead of us, mapping out the next move, anticipating every possible threat. I stared out the window, watching as the towering skyscrapers and flickering neon lights of New York faded into darkness, replaced by vast stretches of highway and dense, looming trees. The further we drove, the more it felt like we were leaving civilization itself. A cold knot twisted in my stomach. Finally, I exhaled, breaking the silence. “Where exactly is ‘home’?” Ethan’s gaze flicked to me, but his expression remained unreadable. “Somewhere safe.” I let out a hollow laugh. “Safe? There’s no such thing anymore.” He didn’t argue. He didn’t need to
The room felt like it had been drained of oxygen. I stared at the phone in my hand, my fingers curled so tightly around it that my knuckles turned white. The screen flickered, casting a pale glow on my face, but all I could focus on was the image. The bold, jagged letters scrawled across my apartment door like a bloody warning. Nowhere is safe. A shiver crept down my spine. The words weren’t just a threat. They were a promise. I sucked in a shaky breath, but the air felt thick, heavy, as if the walls were closing in. Ethan moved first. His hand shot out, snatching the phone from my grasp. His grip was tight, controlled, but the muscle in his jaw ticked. A sign that the control was hanging by a thread. His gaze flicked over the image, scanning every detail, and then, with a sharp inhale, he turned to me. “Pack a bag.” I blinked, my mind still trying to catch up. “What?” “You’re not staying here. You’re not going back to your apartment.” His voice was clipped, edged with
“Let go of me, Ethan.” I kept my voice steady, but my body betrayed me. My hands trembled. My pulse hammered against my ribs, each beat screaming at me to run. Ethan’s grip on my wrist didn’t tighten, but it didn’t loosen either. His fingers, warm and solid, were the only thing anchoring me in place. He stood rigid, his jaw ticking, his body wound so tight it looked like he might snap. “I can’t.” A shiver rippled down my spine. Elias let out a low whistle. “Oh, this is getting good. What’s next, Sinclair? You gonna lock her up in your penthouse?” Ethan didn’t even spare him a glance. His gaze was locked on mine, intense and unyielding. “If that’s what it takes to keep her safe.” A sharp, bitter laugh escaped me. “You don’t get to decide that.” His grip flexed. Just a twitch of his fingers but I felt it everywhere. “I do when Damien Cross is hunting you.” Elias exhaled dramatically. “And there it is. The Sinclair control complex.” He smirked, shifting against the des
The room felt like it was closing in. The walls seemed narrower, the air thick with something I couldn’t name. The grainy video on the screen played in an endless loop, the scene burned into my mind. Ethan. A silencer. A body collapsing to the floor. Blood spreading like ink across white tiles. My breath came fast, uneven. It was like my brain refused to process what I’d just seen. “Tell me that wasn’t you.” My voice barely sounded like mine. It was strained and fragile on the verge of breaking. Ethan didn’t move. He didn’t speak. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes… God, his eyes. I had seen them dark before, filled with anger, with lust, with unspoken emotions I never had the courage to name. But this? This was different. His gaze was a void. Hollow. As if the man I thought I knew was locked somewhere inside, just out of reach. Something inside me cracked. I stepped back, shaking my head. “Say something.” Ethan finally exhaled, slow and control
“Put the gun down, Ethan.” Elias’s voice was smooth and calculated like a snake slithering through the darkness, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He stood in the doorway with the ease of a man who owned the world, his fingers lightly brushing against the frame. His other hand was tucked in his pocket, casual, almost lazy, but I knew better. Nothing about Elias Carter was ever lazy. Every move was deliberate. Every word, a weapon. Ethan, however, was a fortress. His stance was unwavering, shoulders squared, his gun aimed with lethal precision. He wasn’t just holding a weapon. He was a weapon. “You’re trespassing.” His voice was razor-sharp. Elias smirked. Smirked. Like none of this mattered, like he hadn’t just shattered the world I’d built with his sudden presence. “And you’re holding something that belongs to me.” The words sliced through the air, thick with meaning. My breath caught. Me. Ethan’s hold on the gun tightened. “She doesn’t belong to you.”
I shook my head, my chest rising and falling too fast. “No.” Ethan didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “Yes.” My pulse pounded against my ribs like a trapped animal. I took a step back, needing distance, but Ethan was relentless, closing in, his presence thick like a storm cloud about to break. “Elias is gone,” I whispered. “He has to be gone.” Ethan tilted his head slightly, studying me like he was waiting for me to figure out the truth on my own. “Do you really believe that?” I wanted to. God, I wanted to. But Ethan’s voice carried the weight of something inevitable, something unshakable. I clenched my fists at my sides. “He used me. Lied to me. Left me.” I swallowed against the tightness in my throat. “Why the hell would he want me back?” Ethan’s eyes flickered with something unreadable before he spoke. “Because you’re the only thing he ever lost.” The words slammed into me. For a moment, the room faded, replaced by the ghosts of memories I had fought to bury. Elias’s hands
I stumbled back, shaking my head, my breath coming too fast. My heartbeat slammed against my ribs, a wild, frantic rhythm that made my chest ache. “You’re lying.” Ethan didn’t move, didn’t blink. “Am I?” His voice was maddeningly calm, like he was talking about the weather and not completely tearing my world apart. I wanted to believe that. Needed to believe that. But the video kept replaying in my mind, every detail slicing through me like a serrated knife Elias smirking, rolling that damn cigarette between his fingers like I had been nothing more than a business deal, an asset. A job. My stomach lurched. “How long have you known?” My voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. Ethan exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw like he was debating how much to say. “Long enough.” I let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “And you just let me keep believing he cared?” He arched a brow. “Would you have believed me if I told you earlier?” I opened my mouth, ready to snap ba
The walls of Ethan’s hidden room closed in around me, suffocating, too full of secrets I wasn’t ready to face. My pulse pounded in my ears as his words echoed inside my skull. “You were a job.” It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t real. I took a step back, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. The folder with my name on it sat between us like a loaded gun. My life, reduced to paper. Dates. Records. A complete history. Ethan watched me with maddening patience, as if waiting for me to process the truth or waiting for me to break. I wouldn’t. I lifted my chin. “You’re lying.” He sighed, rubbing a hand along his jaw. “I don’t lie, Isabella.” Something in his voice made my stomach churn. He sounded tired, almost resigned, but there was an underlying certainty that terrified me. I turned my back to him, gripping the folder so tightly my knuckles ached. I flipped through the pages again, my eyes scanning too fast, desperate for something. Anything to prove him wrong