Chapter 22: Aftermath

Isla woke up tangled in silk sheets, her body aching in places she hadn't expected.

The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of dawn creeping through the sheer curtains.

For a moment, she forgot where she was.

Then she felt it.

The warmth behind her. The steady rise and fall of a chest against her back. The weight of an arm draped possessively around her waist.

Alessandro.

Memories of last night crashed into her.

The way he had kissed her. Touched her. Owned her.

Heat curled in her stomach, but it was quickly replaced by something colder.

Reality.

This wasn't real.

This wasn't love.

It was an arrangement. A contract.

And yet, the way he had looked at her—the way he had murmured her name against her skin—made her wonder if they had just crossed a line they could never come back from.

She needed to leave.

Carefully, she lifted his arm and slid out of bed.

But before she could take two steps, a deep voice broke the silence.

"Running already?"

Her breath caught.

She turned slowly, finding Alessandro watching her from the pillows, his dark eyes unreadable.

"I wasn't running," she said, reaching for the silk robe at the foot of the bed.

His lips curved slightly. "Liar."

She swallowed, tightening the robe around herself. "Last night was…"

He arched a brow. "A mistake?"

She hesitated.

Alessandro smirked. "You hesitated."

She exhaled sharply, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "It doesn't change anything."

His amusement faded slightly. He sat up, the sheets pooling around his waist, revealing the sharp planes of his chest.

"No?" His voice was softer now, more dangerous. "You think we can just go back to how things were?"

Isla straightened her spine. "Yes."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Then you're delusional."

Her stomach twisted.

Because she knew he was right.

There was no undoing last night. No pretending that she hadn't surrendered to him completely.

But she had to try.

For her sanity. For her heart.

For the contract.

She forced a cold smile. "This was never supposed to be anything more than an arrangement."

Alessandro studied her for a long moment, his gaze searching hers.

Then, slowly, he swung his legs over the side of the bed, standing in one smooth motion.

He didn't say a word as he walked toward her.

Didn't stop until he was inches away.

Her breath caught as he reached out, his fingers grazing her jaw—gentle, but firm.

"You can lie to yourself all you want, cara mia," he murmured, his voice like silk over steel. "But don't ever lie to me."

Isla's pulse thundered.

She should push him away.

But instead, she stood frozen, trapped in his gaze.

Because deep down—beneath all the denial, all the excuses—

She knew.

She wasn't just bound to Alessandro by a contract anymore.

She was bound by something much more dangerous.

And she had no idea how to escape.