The storm outside the DeLuca mansion mirrored the one brewing inside Isabella's chest. Rain lashed against the tall windows, thunder rolled across the night sky, and inside, the tension between her and Leonardo had reached a boiling point.
Dinner had ended hours ago, but sleep refused to come. Isabella paced the length of her lavishly furnished room, her mind replaying every word Leonardo had said.
You belong to me now.
The audacity. The sheer arrogance. Yet, deep down, she couldn't deny the pull he had on her—the magnetic force that drew her closer even when logic screamed to run.
A knock shattered her thoughts. She spun toward the door, her heart leaping.
"Who is it?" she called, trying to sound braver than she felt.
The door creaked open slowly. Leonardo stepped in, dressed in black slacks and a white dress shirt, unbuttoned at the top, sleeves rolled to his forearms. Even disheveled, he looked sinfully commanding, the kind of man who owned every room he walked into.
Isabella stiffened. "What do you want?"
Leonardo's lips curved into that infuriating half-smirk. "You've been pacing for an hour. You'll wear a hole in my carpet."
"I didn't realize I was under surveillance," she shot back.
"You're under protection," he corrected smoothly, stepping inside and closing the door behind him. "There's a difference."
"Protection from what? You?" Isabella snapped, crossing her arms.
Leonardo's gaze darkened, his jaw tightening. For a moment, silence stretched between them, thick and charged. Then, to her surprise, he let out a low chuckle, shaking his head.
"You've got more bite than anyone I've met," he said, his voice low and rough. "Most people tremble in my presence. You? You challenge me. I should hate that…" He took a slow step toward her, his eyes locking onto hers. "…but I don't."
Isabella's breath caught as he closed the distance, his presence overwhelming. She wanted to step back, to put space between them, but her feet refused to move.
"You terrify me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.
Leonardo tilted his head, his gaze softening just slightly. "Good," he murmured. "Fear keeps you alive in my world."
She swallowed hard, torn between fear and something far more dangerous simmering beneath the surface.
Leonardo reached up, his knuckles brushing down her cheek with surprising gentleness. "You think I don't see it, bella?" he said, his voice dipping lower, more intimate. "The way your pulse races every time I'm near. The way you look at me, even when you wish you didn't."
Her heart thundered. "You're imagining things," she said, but her voice trembled, betraying her.
Leonardo's lips curved into a slow, knowing smile. "Am I?"
Before she could reply, he closed the final inch between them, his hand sliding to the back of her neck, pulling her closer. The heat of his body pressed against hers, his breath brushing her lips.
"You can lie to yourself all you want," he whispered, his dark eyes burning into hers, "but you can't lie to me."
And then his mouth claimed hers.
The kiss was a collision of fire and danger, a battle for control neither of them wanted to win. Isabella's hands flew to his chest, meaning to push him away, but the second her fingers tangled in the fabric of his shirt, all thoughts of escape evaporated.
He tasted of whiskey and sin, his lips moving over hers with a skill that stole her breath. His hand tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him, and she felt his heart pounding as wildly as hers.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew this was wrong. He was the most dangerous man in the city, the one who had kidnapped her, the one she swore to hate.
And yet… she melted against him, every nerve in her body alight with forbidden need.
Leonardo pulled back just enough to look into her dazed eyes, his thumb brushing her swollen lower lip. "Say stop," he rasped, his voice thick with restraint. "Say the word and I'll walk out that door."
Isabella's breath hitched. Every instinct screamed at her to say it, to end this madness before it consumed her. But when she opened her mouth, the word never came.
Instead, she whispered, "Don't stop."
A guttural sound escaped Leonardo's throat as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms. She gasped, clutching his shoulders as he carried her across the room, his mouth finding hers again in a hungry, searing kiss that left her dizzy.
He set her down gently on the edge of the massive bed, his hands braced on either side of her as his forehead pressed against hers.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he growled, his voice a rough promise.
"Then show me," Isabella whispered back, her heart racing so fast it hurt.
The storm outside raged louder, lightning flashing through the windows, but inside the room, the only thing that existed was the dangerous, irresistible pull between them.
---
Hours later, long after the storm had passed, Isabella lay tangled in silk sheets, her chest rising and falling in the aftermath of what had just happened. She stared at the ceiling, reality crashing down like a tidal wave.
She had just spent the night with Leonardo DeLuca.
The mafia king.
And as she glanced to the side, seeing him asleep beside her, one strong arm draped possessively across her waist, a terrifying thought struck her heart with icy clarity:
Nothing in her life would ever be the same again.