Chapter 3 The Dark World

Isabella sat in the chair, feeling the weight of Alexander's cold stare like a physical force pressing down on her. His phone call had been brief, yet his presence had become all-consuming. Every word, every gesture from him felt like it had been carefully calculated. He wasn't just a mafia boss-he was a man who controlled everything around him, including the space between them.

Her mind raced. What kind of man was he? He hadn't touched her in any intimate way yet, yet his authority was enough to make her tremble. Every time their eyes met, it was as though the world outside didn't exist. It was just the two of them, locked in an unspoken battle. She wasn't sure whether she hated it or feared it.

"You've been silent for a while, Isabella," Alexander said, his voice breaking through her thoughts. His tone was calm, yet it held an edge that made her stomach flip. "Are you afraid to speak to me?"

She raised her chin, refusing to let him see her weakness. "I don't know what you want me to say," she replied, her voice more steady than she felt. "I'm still trying to process everything."

He smirked, his gaze sharp. "You think I'm interested in your thoughts, Isabella?" he asked, his voice low and laced with sarcasm. "No, I'm interested in your obedience. In your willingness to understand your place."

A cold shiver ran down her spine. "I don't even know what my place is."

He leaned forward, his icy blue eyes never leaving hers. The intensity of his gaze was like a weight pressing down on her chest, making it harder to breathe. "Your place," he said slowly, "is to be by my side, a mere extension of my power. You're not here to question me. You're not here to be a woman in my eyes. You're here to serve me."

The words stung more than she expected. Every fiber of her being wanted to argue, to stand up for herself. But when he spoke, it was as if the world bowed to him, and she was nothing more than a fleeting thought in his empire.

He straightened up, walking toward the large windows that overlooked the city. His back was turned to her, but she could feel his presence in every inch of the room. He wasn't just a man; he was a force.

"The world you once knew, Isabella," he continued, his voice suddenly quieter, "was nothing but a lie. Your family, your wealth-it all meant nothing in my world. In my world, power rules everything. And now, you're a part of that world."

The mention of her family made her throat tighten. She hated how easily Alexander had stripped her of everything. She had never thought of herself as a victim-she was a fighter. But now? She had no choice. She was trapped in this world of shadows and lies.

"I didn't choose this," she muttered, more to herself than to him.

Alexander turned, his expression unreadable. For a moment, she thought he might say something cruel, something to remind her just how powerless she truly was. Instead, he gave her a look that almost seemed like... pity? No, that couldn't be it. This man didn't pity anyone.

"Don't pretend you didn't have a choice," he said, his voice softer, but still carrying that commanding undertone. "You chose to come here. You chose to stay when you could have run. And now, you'll learn to live with the consequences."

Isabella's chest tightened at his words. I chose this? She didn't remember choosing anything. She had been dragged into this world. But now, there was no escape. And no matter how much she wanted to fight, no matter how much she wanted to scream at him, she knew she couldn't. Not yet.

Alexander moved towards her, his steps measured and deliberate. He stopped in front of her, towering over her, and for the first time, she could see the cold glint of something dangerous in his eyes. His lips curved into a small smile, but there was no warmth in it. "You'll see, Isabella," he murmured. "This world... is my world. And you will learn to navigate it. Slowly, painfully, but you will learn."

Her breath caught in her throat, and she fought to keep her composure. She couldn't let him see how deeply his words affected her. She couldn't let him know how much she feared what was coming next.

Before she could respond, there was a sharp knock on the door. A man in a dark suit entered without waiting for permission. He didn't seem to acknowledge Isabella's presence, his eyes only on Alexander.

"Mr. Rossi, we have a situation," the man said, his voice low, almost urgent.

Alexander's expression darkened. He nodded once, turning his attention back to Isabella, his gaze hardening. "Stay here. Do not move."

Isabella didn't reply, not sure whether he was giving her an order or a warning. She didn't know which one felt worse.

As Alexander walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind him, Isabella sat there in silence, her mind racing. The reality of her situation was beginning to settle in. Alexander was not just some rich man who happened to control a criminal empire-he was the power. She was nothing more than a small piece in his game, and from what he had said, she would either learn to submit or be crushed under his heel.

A sudden, bitter laugh escaped her lips. What had she become? She had gone from a life of luxury to a life where her every move, every breath, was dictated by a man she barely knew-a man who saw her as nothing more than an object, a tool for his own purposes.

Isabella stood up, her legs feeling shaky beneath her. She moved to the window, looking out at the city below. It seemed so distant, so unreachable. The woman she once was-the one who had dreams, aspirations, and a future-was slipping further and further away.

And in that moment, Isabella knew one thing for sure: if she was going to survive this, she had to find a way to make herself valuable to Alexander. She couldn't let herself be crushed. She wouldn't.

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