Chapter 13:A Dangerous Game

Isla spent most of the next day convincing herself that she was unaffected.

The kiss. The way Alessandro spoke to her. The way he looked at her like he knew she was unraveling.

None of it mattered.

She was here for one reason—money. Security. The freedom five million pounds would give her once this year was over.

And yet, as she stood in front of her mirror that evening, slipping into the elegant black dress Alessandro's assistant had left for her, she couldn't ignore the fact that she looked every bit the role of Mrs. Romano.

Poised. Controlled. His.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

A knock at the door pulled her from her thoughts.

Alessandro.

She took a steadying breath before opening it, her stomach flipping as she took him in—impeccably dressed in a tailored navy suit, his dark hair styled effortlessly, his expression unreadable as his gaze swept over her.

Something flickered in his eyes—something dark.

"You clean up well," he murmured.

She lifted her chin. "I'd say the same, but we both know you always look like this."

His lips twitched. "Flattery, cara mia? Be careful. I might think you're starting to like me."

She rolled her eyes and stepped past him. "Let's just get this over with."

Alessandro chuckled as he followed her down the grand staircase. "You say that now. But by the end of the night, you might not want to leave my side."

She scoffed, slipping her coat on. "Highly unlikely."

He leaned in, his voice a dark whisper against her ear. "We'll see."

Her pulse jumped, but she ignored it, heading straight for the car.

She was not going to let Alessandro Romano get under her skin.

Not tonight.

—

The dinner was being hosted at an exclusive estate on the outskirts of London, an event filled with the kind of wealth and power that made Isla's stomach turn.

She had spent two years working in the corporate world, watching men like Alessandro dominate every room they walked into. But tonight, she wasn't just his secretary.

She was his fiancée.

And they were about to convince everyone that their relationship was real.

Alessandro helped her out of the car, his hand lingering on her waist as he led her inside.

The moment they stepped into the lavish dining hall, eyes turned toward them. Murmurs followed, quiet whispers questioning Alessandro's sudden engagement, curiosity swirling like a storm.

Isla kept her expression neutral, smiling politely as Alessandro introduced her to men who ruled empires and women who were bred for this world of power.

She played her part perfectly.

Until she arrived.

A stunning woman in a crimson dress approached, her green eyes locking onto Alessandro's like a hunter zeroing in on prey.

Isla knew that look.

She had seen it before, in boardrooms and exclusive restaurants—women who wanted Alessandro Romano and hated anyone who got in their way.

The woman's smile was sharp as she stopped before them, her gaze flicking over Isla with thinly veiled disdain before returning to Alessandro.

"Well," she purred. "I have to admit, this is unexpected."

Alessandro's expression didn't change. "Valeria."

The name sent an uneasy feeling curling in Isla's stomach.

Valeria smirked. "I would have thought you'd at least warn me before announcing your engagement to the world."

Isla arched a brow, glancing at Alessandro. Warn her?

Interesting.

Alessandro's jaw tensed slightly. "I didn't realize I owed you that courtesy."

Valeria's smile remained, but something in her eyes darkened. "After everything? I'd say you do."

Isla hated how easily jealousy twisted in her stomach.

She didn't care about Alessandro's past. This was a business arrangement, nothing more.

But standing next to him, feeling the weight of Valeria's gaze as if she could see through every lie, Isla felt something dangerously close to territorial.

She lifted her hand, resting it gently on Alessandro's arm.

"Forgive me," she said smoothly, tilting her head just enough to appear effortlessly confident. "But I don't believe we've met."

Valeria's gaze flickered to her, something sharp in her expression. "No, we haven't."

Isla offered her a polite smile. "Then let me introduce myself properly." She tightened her grip slightly on Alessandro's arm. "I'm Isla. Alessandro's fiancée."

She felt, rather than saw, Alessandro's smirk.

Valeria's expression didn't waver, but something in her posture shifted—stiffening, calculating.

"A pleasure," she said coolly.

Alessandro's fingers brushed against Isla's waist, a silent acknowledgment, a game recognized.

But Isla wasn't playing for him.

She was playing for herself.

Because no matter what history Alessandro and Valeria had, one thing was clear—

Tonight, she was the woman on his arm.

And she wasn't about to let anyone forget it.