chapter 8 :the Hear beneath

Ivanka's POV:

My plan was unfolding flawlessly—no, perfectly—until that Garcia bastard had to ruin it for me. I knew he was too smart to believe a single word I said, but what he doesn't realize is that this is my game, and I make the rules. No one ruins my fun.

He pulled me onto his lap, holding me so firmly that I couldn't move. I was pressed so close to him, I could feel his breath against my skin. Okay, fine—he's dangerously attractive and far too clever compared to the idiots I usually deal with.

"You enjoy playing games, don't you, mi tesoro?" he said, his gaze locked on me as his hand brushed my hair away from my face.

"If I'm playing, it doesn't involve you, darling. But for some reason, you seem to enjoy toying with me. Also, what did you just call me?" I challenged, though my voice wavered slightly.

He continued twirling strands of my hair between his fingers, his movements deliberate. "I don't play games, mi tesoro. I'm an honest man—I don't do tricks. But you... you do. And it seems your latest game is Leo."

He stopped, his piercing gaze still fixed on mine. Was he testing me? My honesty? I had to admit—I was impressed.

"Either way, that's none of your business. Leo is just someone who's been... close to me lately," I said, shifting in his lap as his grip began to loosen. He stared at me, his expression unreadable.

Ah, the thrill of provoking someone, of waiting for a reaction. Yet he gave me none.

I leaned in closer, refusing to back down. I never lose, and I wouldn't start today.

"But seriously, Leo's a good-looking guy. Why would I turn him into my game? Maybe..." I trailed off, pressing myself boldly against him.

His breath hitched, just for a moment, but it was enough. I bit back a victorious smile and added, "Maybe I just want to ride him."

His grip on my hips tightened, his fingers digging into my skin as his eyes stayed locked on mine, dark and unrelenting. The tension between us crackled, heavy and unspoken, but I wasn't about to back down.

"You really think you're in control?" His voice was low and rough, a challenge laced with warning. I shifted in his lap deliberately, pressing closer, and was rewarded with a sharp intake of breath.

"I know I am," I said, letting my fingertips graze his chest, trailing slowly downward. "You're holding me like you're trying to prove me wrong, but so far... nothing."

His hand slid lower, gripping my thigh with enough force to make my breath hitch. He leaned in, his breath hot against the shell of my ear. "Careful," he muttered, his voice dripping with restrained power. "You're walking a fine line."

I tilted my head slightly, giving him the barest hint of my neck, my tone calm but deliberate. "Am I? Or are you just afraid you're the one losing control?"

His hold on me tightened, his hand slipping beneath the hem of my dress, fingers brushing along my thigh in a way that made heat pool low in my stomach. He paused there, not moving, just enough to remind me how close he was to crossing the line.

"You're so confident," he said, his voice like a growl, each word deliberate. "But we both know how this ends—you pushing me until I finally remind you who's in charge."

"Then stop talking," I whispered, leaning in just enough for my breath to tease against his jaw. "And prove it."

His grip shifted, pressing me down harder against him, the sharp tension in the air between us almost unbearable. His restraint was hanging by a thread, but I could feel it—he wouldn't give me the satisfaction of breaking first.

"Careful what you wish for, mi tesoro," he said, his voice rough and commanding, his fingers digging into my skin as if daring me to push him further, God help me, every brush of him against me sends waves of heat through my body, making it hard to think straight.

His grip tightened on my thigh, and I felt the flicker of tension in the air, his muscles flexing as I leaned closer to him. I said his name for the first time, letting the weight of it hang in the air. "Achilles," I whispered, savoring how it sounded.

His eyes sharpened, the flicker of surprise quickly masked by his usual intense composure. "You know my name now," he said, his tone rough, though there was an edge of challenge in it.

I smiled, leaning in a little, just enough for him to feel my breath against his skin. "Oh, I know more than just your name," I teased, my fingers slowly brushing across his chest, moving by purposefully to distract him. "But if it's too formal for you, I can always call you something else..."

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing slightly. "And what would that be?"

I smirked, feeling the tension between us grow as I shifted in his lap, just enough to press closer. "How about Ace?" I said casually, watching closely for his reaction.

"Ace?" His voice dropped, a dangerous edge to it. "You think that'll get under my skin?"

"Maybe," I said, pressing my lips to the side of his neck, just enough to feel the heat of his skin against mine. "But you like games, don't you?"

He didn't pull away, his grip on my waist tightening instead. "Games? You think I'm the one playing games here?"

I met his gaze, unflinching. "No, Ace. You're just too serious about it. But you're right about one thing—you're not the one playing. I am."

For a moment, the only sound was the heavy beat of our breaths. Then, he leaned closer, his voice a low growl in my ear. "So tell me, mi tesoro, how serious is this game with Leo? What's he to you?"

I grinned, shifting in his lap again, intentionally pressing just a little harder against him, making sure to keep his focus on me. "What's Leo to me?" I repeated, dragging out the question. "He's just... someone who gets my attention."

His fingers dug into my skin, his lips just brushing my ear as he asked, "And does he know he's playing in your game? Or is he just another pawn?"

I tilted my head, giving him a defiant smile. "You don't get it, do you?" I whispered, my lips close to his. "Leo's just a distraction. But you? You're the challenge."

"Is that so?" His voice was dark, teasing, as his hand slipped higher on my thigh. "And here I thought you were all about the games. So why are you avoiding the question?"

"Because," I said, my voice dropping just a bit, "I don't think you're ready for the answer."

He chuckled, low and smooth, but I could feel the tension still in him, his hand tightening, moving slowly, dangerously. "You'll get the answer eventually, Ace." I leaned in even closer, his breath warm against my skin. "But for now, I'm content with making you play my game."