Chapter 2 Enter the Billionaire

The next morning, Isabella woke to the unfamiliar feeling of cold silk against her skin. The bed, though luxurious, felt foreign-empty and cold despite its extravagance. The penthouse was eerily quiet, with only the faint hum of the city below filtering through the walls.

Her body felt heavy, as if the weight of the previous night had crushed the air from her lungs. Every detail of Alexander's cold touch, his chilling words, seemed to haunt her still. She had fallen asleep with the cruel reality of her situation weighing on her chest.

She rose from the bed, her hands trembling as she pulled a robe around her shoulders. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror-pale, exhausted, and with no trace of the life she once had. The confident, ambitious woman who had once conquered New York's social scene was now nothing more than a pawn in a ruthless game she didn't understand.

A knock at the door snapped her from her thoughts. Her heart skipped a beat, but she quickly composed herself. "Come in," she called, though she wasn't sure who would enter.

The door opened, and a woman stepped inside-a tall, elegant figure with piercing green eyes and dark, sleek hair. She wore a sharp black suit, exuding an air of authority that made Isabella's stomach twist.

"I'm Chloe," the woman said, her voice smooth but firm. "I'll be your personal assistant while you're here. If you need anything, don't hesitate to ask."

Isabella nodded, unsure of what to say. "Anything?" she asked, her voice betraying her doubt.

Chloe's lips curved into a thin smile. "Anything within reason, of course. I suggest you prepare yourself. Mr. Rossi wants to see you shortly."

Isabella's stomach flipped at the mention of Alexander. There was a mix of dread and curiosity that filled her. She had spent the night wondering about him-wondering how someone so powerful could be so cold and distant. He hadn't touched her in any intimate way. It was as though she wasn't even a woman to him-she was merely an asset.

The mere thought of seeing him again made her pulse quicken, but she steeled herself.

"Right. I'll be ready," she said, her voice surprisingly steady.

As Chloe left, Isabella quickly showered and dressed in a black dress that had been laid out for her. It was elegant but simple, far too modest for someone like her. She realized she didn't even remember packing any of her clothes for this stay. Had Alexander chosen these for her? She pushed the thought aside.

When she stepped into the living room, Chloe was already waiting by the door. She nodded toward Isabella, then led her through the vast apartment toward the elevator. The silence between them was thick, as though there was an unspoken understanding of what Isabella was about to face.

The elevator doors opened, and Chloe led her into a darkened corridor. The walls were adorned with art-dark, brooding pieces that made the space feel like an extension of Alexander himself. The air smelled faintly of cigar smoke, and the atmosphere was thick with power.

They stopped in front of a large, imposing door. Chloe knocked once before pushing it open.

Inside, Alexander stood by a desk, his back to her. The moment the door clicked shut, he turned slowly, his sharp gaze locking onto Isabella. He was wearing a tailored suit, his sleeves rolled up to reveal forearms corded with muscle. There was a cold intensity to him that made Isabella's breath catch.

"Isabella," he greeted her with his usual smooth voice, but this time, there was something more in it. A quiet command. "Come in."

She took a hesitant step forward, her heart thundering in her chest.

"You seem nervous," Alexander remarked, his lips curling into a slight, almost mocking smile. "You don't need to be."

Isabella forced herself to meet his gaze, standing her ground despite the unease creeping up her spine. "I'm not nervous," she said, though the lie was evident in her voice. "Just... trying to understand."

He took a step toward her, and she instinctively backed up, her legs bumping into a chair.

"Understand?" Alexander mused, stepping closer until he was just inches from her. He towered over her, his presence overpowering. "There's nothing to understand, Isabella. You're mine. And you will do exactly as I say."

The weight of his words hit her like a slap. She opened her mouth to protest, but his gaze stopped her. His eyes-those cold, unyielding eyes-spoke of a power so deep, it seemed to control everything around them.

"Do you understand?" he asked, his voice low and dangerously smooth.

"Yes," she whispered, though she hated the weakness in her voice. She didn't want to admit it, but she was afraid. Of him. Of this life she was trapped in.

Alexander studied her for a moment before turning away, his fingers lightly brushing the top of his desk. "Good. Because if you want to survive in my world, you'll need to learn a few things. And I'll be the one to teach you."

The words lingered in the air, and Isabella swallowed hard, wondering what kind of world she had entered. What had she gotten herself into?

"Come, sit," Alexander commanded, gesturing to a chair opposite him.

She obeyed, her legs trembling as she sat down. He didn't need to ask her again. His words alone were a command she couldn't ignore.

The moment she sat, Alexander leaned forward, his gaze burning into her. "I'll make this very clear: in my world, you'll be nothing but an accessory. A slave to my desires. But you will learn your place. And if you do, you might just survive long enough to see the end of this."

Isabella's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes widened as she processed his words, but before she could speak, Alexander's phone rang. Without a glance at her, he answered the call, leaving her alone with her swirling thoughts.

She had no idea what was coming next, but she couldn't escape now.