Chapter 17:A Dangerous Reckoning

Isla stood frozen on the terrace long after Alessandro had disappeared.

Her lips still tingled from his kiss.

Her pulse still pounded in her ears.

And worst of all?

She wanted more.

No.

She couldn't let this happen.

This wasn't real. It was never meant to be real.

But the way Alessandro had kissed her—possessive, demanding, as if she truly belonged to him—made her wonder if he even remembered that.

Or if he had decided to rewrite the rules entirely.

With a sharp inhale, she straightened her dress, forcing herself to regain composure. She had survived the night so far. She just needed to get through the rest of it.

Then she could go home, lock her bedroom door, and pretend none of this had ever happened.

Squaring her shoulders, she stepped back inside.

The moment she entered the grand hall, whispers filled the air.

Eyes flicked toward her.

Some curious. Some amused.

Her stomach twisted.

They knew.

Or at the very least, they had seen enough to suspect.

And the one person who looked the most satisfied with the development?

Valeria.

The woman sat at the far end of the room, sipping a glass of champagne, her sharp green eyes watching Isla with a smirk that made her stomach churn.

Damn it.

She didn't have time for this.

Forcing a polite smile, she wove through the room, searching for Alessandro.

She found him near the bar, deep in conversation with the host of the event—an older gentleman whose name she vaguely remembered from one of Alessandro's business dealings.

But she barely processed the man's presence.

Because Alessandro's gaze found her instantly.

Dark. Intense. Unwavering.

And something else.

Something raw.

He murmured a few words to the host before excusing himself, walking toward her with slow, deliberate steps.

Every muscle in her body tensed as he reached her, towering over her in his perfectly tailored suit.

She opened her mouth to speak, but he beat her to it.

"We're leaving."

His tone left no room for argument.

Isla's instinct was to challenge him, to remind him that she wasn't his to command.

But the way the room was watching them—the way Valeria's smirk widened—made her snap her mouth shut.

She didn't want to give anyone more fuel for gossip.

Wordlessly, she followed Alessandro out.

The car ride back to the Romano estate was thick with tension.

Alessandro sat beside her, his posture rigid, one hand gripping the steering wheel tightly. He had dismissed the driver, choosing to take the wheel himself.

And the way he drove—controlled but barely—told her everything she needed to know.

He was furious.

Good.

Because so was she.

The moment they pulled up to the estate and stepped inside, the dam finally broke.

"You don't get to order me around," Isla snapped, rounding on him the second the doors shut behind them. "I'm not one of your employees, Alessandro."

His jaw clenched as he turned to face her. "No. You're my wife."

"By contract," she shot back. "Not by choice."

His eyes darkened. "Then why did you kiss me back?"

Her breath hitched.

She should have expected the question.

But it still hit like a punch to the gut.

She lifted her chin. "It was a mistake."

Alessandro let out a humorless chuckle, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. "Liar."

She took a step back, but he followed.

"You think you can toy with me, cara mia?" he murmured, his voice dangerously low. "That you can play your little games, test my limits, and walk away untouched?"

Her back hit the wall.

Her pulse thundered.

Alessandro braced one hand beside her head, caging her in. "Tell me," he murmured, his gaze dropping to her lips. "If I kissed you again right now, would you push me away?"

Her breath caught.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

She should say yes.

She should shove him off and remind him that this was all pretend.

But she didn't.

And the silence was deafening.

Alessandro's smirk was slow, victorious.

"That's what I thought."

Before she could react, he pushed off the wall, stepping back, as if releasing her from a spell.

"Go to bed, Isla."

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to breathe. "Excuse me?"

He turned away, walking toward the staircase. "Go to bed. Before you do something neither of us can take back."

Her stomach flipped.

He was walking away.

He was giving her the out.

And yet…

The worst part was that she wasn't sure she wanted to take it.

Because no matter how much she fought it, no matter how much she denied it—

She wanted him.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.