When he reached her, he braced one hand against the table, leaning low until his scent…clean smoke and spice…wrapped around her. His voice dropped to a whisper.
"I don't like men touching what's mine. If I'm to protect you, innocenza, I need to know every secret you're hiding."
Her throat worked. "And if I don't want to tell you?"
The corner of his mouth curved. "Then I'll find out another way."
Before she could move, his fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face upward. The world seemed to still..the flicker of candlelight, the hush of air…and for one suspended moment, she thought he might close the distance between them.
But the door burst open.
A guard stepped in, his face taut. "Boss. We have a problem."
Damian's jaw tightened, and his hand fell away. The spell shattered, leaving Isabella trembling, breathless, confused.
He didn't spare her another glance. "Stay here," he ordered,
His voice clipped as steel. Then he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him.
Alone in the cavernous room, Isabella touched her lips, her chest aching with a strange mix of relief and disappointment.
Whatever game Damian was playing, she had just become its centerpiece.
And it was only the beginning.
The ballroom glittered with light and laughter. Crystal chandeliers spilled golden fire across polished marble floors, where men in tailored suits and women in silken gowns danced gracefully to the swell of a live orchestra.
Isabella stood at the edge of it all, her hands clasped tightly before her. The silk of her pale blue dress clung to her frame, delicate and innocent, so unlike the world swirling around her.
Sophia leaned close, her lips brushing Isabella's ear. "You look like a lamb surrounded by wolves. Smile a little or they'll smell your fear."
"I can't," Isabella whispered back. Her throat was tight. Her father had insisted she attend this gathering,a celebration of alliances, he'd said. But Isabella knew what it truly was: her introduction to Damian's world.
And Damian…
He hadn't taken his eyes off her since they entered.
He stood across the room, a glass of whiskey in his hand, gray eyes cold and possessive as they tracked her every move. No one dared approach her under that gaze,until he appeared.
"May I?"
Isabella startled, looking up into warm brown eyes. A young man stood before her, perhaps a few years older than she was. He was handsome, but in a boyish, gentle way. His smile was easy, his presence comforting, like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"My name is Luca Romano," he said smoothly, bowing slightly. "And you must be the infamous Isabella Ricci. I've heard the entire city whispering about you."
Her cheeks warmed. "Infamous?"
"Beautiful. Untouchable." Luca's smile softened. "Caged."
Her breath caught. No one had dared say it aloud.
Sophia, standing nearby, smirked approvingly. "Well, someone finally has the guts."
Luca extended his hand. "Dance with me?"
Isabella hesitated, her gaze flicking across the room. Damian still watched, his expression unreadable but the grip on his glass was white-knuckled.
"Go," Sophia whispered urgently. "Make him burn."
Heart pounding, Isabella placed her hand in Luca's. He led her onto the dance floor, spinning her into the swell of violins. For the first time in days, she felt light, almost free.
"You're trembling," Luca murmured, guiding her effortlessly through the steps.
"I'm not used to this," she admitted.
His brow furrowed. "Being stared at like prey?"
Her lips parted in surprise. "You see it too?"
"I see everything," Luca said quietly. "And I don't like the way he looks at you."
Her chest tightened. "Who?"
"You know who."
Across the ballroom, Damian's gaze darkened.
He had tolerated Isabella's defiance. Her silence. Even her trembling. But this another man's hands on her waist, another man's smile coaxing laughter from her lips was unacceptable.
His jaw clenched, a storm rising behind his composed facade. He didn't move, not yet. Predators waited for the perfect moment.
But when Luca dared spin Isabella into his chest, Damian set his glass down with deliberate calm and began to cross the room.
Isabella felt the shift before she saw him. The air grew heavier, colder, as though the music itself bowed beneath his presence.
Her laughter died in her throat as Damian approached, every step measured, lethal.
"Isabella," he said smoothly, though his eyes were shards of ice. "Introduce me to your friend."
Luca's grip on her tightened fractionally, but he smiled politely. "Luca Romano. A pleasure."
Damian's gaze flicked to where Luca's hand rested on Isabella's waist. Slowly, deliberately, he reached out and removed Isabella from Luca's hold, his touch deceptively gentle but absolute.
"The pleasure," Damian murmured, his lips curving in something too sharp to be a smile, "is not mutual."
The orchestra played on, oblivious. But around them, whispers rose like smoke. Isabella's heart hammered, her breath caught between terror and something dangerously close to excitement.
"Dance with me," Damian ordered softly, his gray eyes locking onto hers.
It wasn't a request.
She swallowed hard, her pulse erratic, as he swept her into his arms, pulling her flush against him. The music swelled, the world spun but all she could feel was Damian, his strength, his control, the dark promise in every step of the dance.
"Do you enjoy testing me, bella?" he whispered against her ear. "Do you like making me jealous?"
Her lips parted, trembling. "I…I didn't.."
"Liar," he breathed, his hand pressing against the small of her back. "You wanted to see if anyone else could protect you from me. But there's no one. Remember that."
Her knees weakened, heat flooding her face.
And then, with the faintest curve of his lips, he dipped her low, his mouth hovering just above hers so close she could feel the ghost of his breath.
The room held its breath.
"Run to another man again," Damian murmured, "and I won't stop at jealousy."
He pulled her upright just as the music ended, leaving her dizzy, shaken, and gasping for air.