Chapter 8: The Power Struggle

The dance should have ended by now.

At least, that's what Isla told herself as she swayed in Alessandro's arms, her body betraying her with every subtle press of his fingertips against her spine. The warmth of his hand on her waist was distracting, the intensity in his gaze enough to make her forget—just for a second—that this was all a lie.

She needed distance. Now.

Summoning every ounce of control, she forced a smirk and leaned in, her lips barely grazing the shell of his ear. "You're laying it on a little thick, don't you think?"

Alessandro's grip didn't falter. If anything, he pulled her closer, his breath a slow exhale against her cheek. "You're enjoying it."

Her stomach tightened. Liar. She was a liar.

She tilted her head back to meet his gaze. "I think you're enjoying it too much."

His smirk deepened, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy circle against the small of her back. "Careful, cara mia—that almost sounded like jealousy."

She scoffed, stepping back abruptly as the song ended. "Please. If I wanted to be with an arrogant control freak, I'd—"

"Be exactly where you are now?" he finished smoothly.

Damn him.

She had no response, and he knew it. He chuckled under his breath, offering his arm. "Come. We should make the rounds."

She didn't want to take it. She wanted to walk away, regain control of her breathing, put space between them. But there was no escape—not here, not yet.

So she slid her hand into the crook of his elbow, letting him lead her through the crowd like a prized possession.

And that's exactly what she felt like.

—

The night wore on with a never-ending parade of introductions, polite conversations, and calculating stares from the city's elite. Isla played her part flawlessly, laughing at the right moments, feigning adoration whenever Alessandro pulled her closer for effect.

But her patience snapped when a woman approached them with too much familiarity.

Tall. Stunning. Dressed in a glittering black gown that clung to every curve. She was the kind of woman who belonged in Alessandro's world.

And judging by the sharp, knowing smile on her lips, she had been in his bed, too.

"Well, well," the woman purred, her eyes flicking over Isla before settling on Alessandro. "I must say, I'm surprised. You? Engaged?"

Alessandro's expression remained unreadable. "Elena."

Elena. Isla recognized the name immediately. One of Alessandro's former lovers—someone who had been in his life long before this arrangement.

"I thought you weren't the marrying type," Elena continued, tilting her head. "And yet, here you are." Her gaze slid back to Isla, sharp with amusement. "How ever did you convince him?"

Isla refused to falter. Instead, she let out a soft laugh, tightening her grip on Alessandro's arm. "Oh, you know," she said airily. "Some men just need the right woman to change their minds."

Alessandro let out a low hum of approval, but Elena wasn't done.

"That's quite the dress," she said, her tone laced with condescension. "Alessandro always did have a taste for bold women."

Isla didn't miss the emphasis on always.

It was a challenge. A reminder that she wasn't the first.

And for some reason, that knowledge burned.

Two could play this game.

Isla turned to Alessandro with a slow, deliberate smile, lifting her free hand to smooth his lapel. "You never told me your exes were so…" She let her gaze flick over Elena briefly before returning to him. "Predictable."

Alessandro's lips twitched in amusement, but he didn't say a word.

Elena's smile thinned. "Well, I suppose I should wish you both happiness," she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

"Thank you," Isla said with a saccharine smile. "But we don't need it."

Elena's expression faltered—just for a second—before she gave a tight nod and disappeared back into the crowd.

The moment she was gone, Alessandro turned to her, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. "Jealous, cara mia?"

She scoffed, dropping her hand from his jacket. "Of course not."

"You handled that beautifully."

"Obviously."

He let out a low chuckle. "You're a quick learner."

"And you're unbearable."

He smirked, leaning in slightly. "And yet, you're still standing here with me."

Before she could fire back, someone interrupted.

"Mr. Romano," a deep voice called.

They both turned

"Mr. Romano."

The interruption came from a man approaching with an air of authority. Mid-fifties, silver-streaked hair, sharp navy suit—someone important. Isla could tell by the way Alessandro subtly shifted, his body straightening, his grip on her arm adjusting ever so slightly.

This was someone he wanted to impress.

"Senator Wallace," Alessandro greeted smoothly, extending a hand. "It's been a while."

The senator shook his hand firmly, his calculating gaze flickering toward Isla. "And this must be your fiancée."

Alessandro turned slightly, his hand resting on the small of Isla's back, warm and possessive. "Yes. Isla, this is Senator Wallace. He's been a longtime supporter of Romano Enterprises."

Isla forced a charming smile and extended her hand. "A pleasure to meet you, Senator."

Wallace studied her for a fraction too long before shaking her hand. "I have to say, I'm surprised. You've always been a private man, Alessandro. And now you're suddenly engaged?"

Alessandro didn't hesitate. "Some things are too good to keep private."

His words, so effortlessly smooth, sent an unwelcome shiver down Isla's spine.

The senator let out a short laugh. "Well, I'll admit, I never thought I'd see the day. Tell me, Isla—how did he finally convince you?"

A test.

Isla felt Alessandro's fingers press lightly against her lower back, a silent warning.

She tilted her head, keeping her smile perfectly in place. "Oh, he didn't have to do much convincing. I fell first." She let her gaze slide to Alessandro with just enough softness to sell the illusion. "But he was right behind me."

A flicker of something dark passed through Alessandro's eyes. Approval? Amusement? Something else? She couldn't tell.

Wallace chuckled, clearly satisfied. "Well, if you can keep this man in line, I'd say you're quite the woman."

"Oh, I don't try to keep him in line," Isla said smoothly, her eyes glinting. "I just know how to make him think it's his idea."

Wallace let out a full laugh this time, clearly entertained. "Smart woman." He clapped Alessandro on the shoulder. "You've got your hands full with this one."

Alessandro's lips quirked, his fingers tightening slightly at Isla's waist. "You have no idea."

The senator excused himself shortly after, leaving them alone again. Isla exhaled slowly, turning to face Alessandro.

"Well?" she challenged.

He studied her for a moment, then let out a quiet chuckle. "I underestimated you."

"You always underestimate me."

His smirk deepened. "I won't make that mistake again."

Before she could respond, his hand slid from her back to her waist, tugging her in—just enough that their bodies brushed.

Her breath caught.

"You play the part well," he murmured, his lips close enough to send a shiver down her spine.

She swallowed hard, keeping her voice steady. "I told you, I don't lose."

His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path up her back, barely there, but enough to make her pulse jump. "Neither do I."

The words sent a dangerous thrill through her.

Because for the first time since this arrangement began—

She wasn't entirely sure who was winning anymore.