Chapter 11: An Unforgettable Mistake

Isla barely made it to her bedroom before the reality of what had just happened crashed down on her.

She slammed the door shut, her breath coming in uneven gasps as she pressed her back against the wood. Her fingers lifted to her lips, as if she could wipe away the memory of Alessandro's mouth on hers, the way he had kissed her like she belonged to him.

Like he knew she would give in.

Her heart pounded, not just from anger—but from something far more dangerous.

Desire.

No.

This was exactly what she couldn't let happen. She had been so careful, so determined to keep this arrangement strictly business. But one moment of weakness, one misstep, and she had played right into his hands.

She pushed off the door, pacing the length of the room. She needed to regain control. Needed to set boundaries.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she would make it clear that what happened between them meant nothing.

But deep down, she already knew—convincing Alessandro would be the least of her problems.

Because she wasn't sure she could convince herself.

—

Morning came too soon, dragging Isla from restless sleep.

She had barely dressed when a sharp knock sounded at her door.

She stiffened.

Not again.

"Go away, Alessandro," she called, forcing her voice to remain even.

The door swung open anyway.

Her pulse jumped as Alessandro stepped inside, looking infuriatingly composed in his tailored suit. Not a single wrinkle, not a single crack in his controlled demeanor. As if last night hadn't shaken him at all.

"Good morning to you too, wife."

She exhaled through her nose. "You can't just walk in here whenever you feel like it."

His lips curved. "I can. I do."

Isla clenched her fists. "If this is about last night—"

"It is about last night." Alessandro took a slow step closer, his gaze locked onto hers. "And the fact that you've been avoiding me since it happened."

"I haven't—"

"Don't lie to me, cara mia." His voice was smooth, quiet, far too controlled. "You forget—I know you."

Isla's throat tightened. She hated how easily he read her, how he saw through her defenses like they were paper-thin.

She lifted her chin. "What do you want, Alessandro?"

A flicker of amusement crossed his dark eyes. "I want you to stop pretending."

She scoffed. "Pretending what?"

"That you don't want this."

Her breath caught.

Alessandro stepped even closer, closing the space between them, his presence suffocating. His hand lifted, fingers grazing her jaw in a touch so light it was almost cruel.

"If I kissed you right now," he murmured, his voice laced with a quiet challenge, "would you stop me?"

Her pulse thundered.

She should say yes. She should push him away.

But the silence between them was damning.

Alessandro's smirk deepened. "That's what I thought."

Her hands curled into fists. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you kissed me back."

The reminder sent heat crawling up her neck.

She had kissed him back.

But that didn't mean she was going to let him win.

She met his gaze head-on. "Last night was a mistake."

Alessandro studied her, something unreadable flickering in his expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he stepped back.

"If that's what you want to believe," he said smoothly.

Her stomach twisted. "It's not about what I believe—"

"I won't force you to admit it, cara mia." His smirk returned, taunting. "But eventually, you will."

With that, he turned and strode toward the door, exuding his usual arrogant control.

But just as he reached the threshold, he paused, glancing over his shoulder.

"Oh, and Isla?"

She crossed her arms. "What?"

His eyes darkened, the amusement fading into something far more dangerous.

"This was a mistake."

Her breath hitched.

"But it's one we'll make again."

And then he was gone, leaving Isla standing there—heart racing, breath unsteady—terrified that he was righ