Chapter 2 The Forbidden Desire

The grand ballroom of the Vegas cartel's Mexican estate was a space of resplendent decadence. Crystal chandeliers, their fixtures dripping in gold light reflected from polished marble floors, swirled throughout. The air was heavy with expensive perfumes and the faintest tang of cigar smoke. A sea of men in tailored suits, women in glittering gowns spoke in huddles amidst loud bursts of laughter. Their low hum permeated the atmosphere, an assembled gathering of underworld elite where rivalries were often simmered instead of being visible on the surface.

Alejandro Vega stood by the edge of the room and nursed the whiskey in his glass. His gaze, sharp as a razor blade, cut across the sea of faces, to rest on influential men and women who had shown up to give homage to Vegas. He moved with confidence through the crowd that parted easily and commanded the appreciative glances of more than a few female faces in this room. In Alejandro's view, however, one figure rivaled all those others across the room.

Isabella Moretti.

She stood beside her father, Giovanni Moretti, head of the Moretti cartel. Even across the room, Alejandro could appreciate how poised she held herself, her carriage rivaling the grace of an ethereal, supernatural creature. Her dark hair flowed upward in a delicate updo, several strands framing her face. Her dress, in bright emerald green, was fitted on her, and with every movement that she made, the material glittered. Undeniably, she was the most striking beauty in the room.

Alejandro lingered over her, his mind escaping into the thought of when he had first seen her.

It was years back, and it was a night like this one. She had been younger then, but even then, she did something to him. Something in her, be it the sharpness of her mind, her poise, or the way she seemed to look right through the veneer of the people around her, had drawn him in. Years later, the fascination had only grown.

He swirled his drink and then took a deep swallow. It burned its way down his throat. He'd tried to forget her, to nudge her on out of his brain, but no use. She was an obsession, a voice within the mind. Her fighting spirit he admired - yes, that was more like it.. He wanted her. Needed her. Yet, she was untouchable, kept under the watchful eye of her father.

Giovanni Moretti was a man who instilled both fear and respect. He was a giant in the underworld, his cartel being one of the most powerful in Europe. Alejandro had heard the stories of how Giovanni had grown his empire from nothing, of how he had crushed anyone who had come across his way. And now, by his side, he had his daughter, a living, breathing symbol of his power and influence.

Alejandro's jaw clenched as he watched Giovanni exchange tense pleasantries with Manuel Vega, Alejandro's old father, and head of the Vegas cartel, who is on the verge of retirement They were allies, at least to all appearances, but Alejandro could see the latent hostility in their interchange. It was precarious at best, a balance that might shift at any moment.

Isabella, for her part, said nothing. Her face was impassive-a mask of composure-but this was a woman who knew her place in this world, how to play a role that had been expected from her. Yet Alejandro could see it in the tension of her shoulders, in the way her fingers tightened upon her glass, that she was guarded, ever on edge, and he found himself wondering what she was thinking.

As if sensing his regard, Isabella's eyes flashed toward his. For one swift instant their gazes joined in a sexual jolt that sent a blue spark through Alejandro's body. It was if the rest of the room had melted away, and only the two of them were left. But then just as speedily as it had happened, she looked away, turning back to her father.

Alejandro's heart was racing in his chest, that flash of a second having only fanned the flame. He wanted her, more than he had ever wanted anything in his life. He was going to do anything it took-whatever it would take-to make her his.

He turned to his stolid second-in-command, Mateo, silent as a ghost beside him. Few words were ever wasted by him, but his keen eyes never missed anything. He'd been with Alejandro for years, an ally in a world where few people trusted anyone.

"She's worth any risk," Alejandro said in a low, firm voice.

Mateo's eyebrow arched skeptically. "You're playing with fire, Alejandro. Giovanni Moretti isn't a man to be crossed lightly. If he finds out-"

"He won't," Alejandro said, his words brooking no argument. "I'll make sure of it."

Mateo didn't look too convinced, and he knew well enough not to argue with Alejandro when he set his mind. Once Alejandro started on something in his mind, he wouldn't stop. Now, his thoughts were fixed only on Isabella Moretti.

In the darkness of the night, Alejandro watched Isabella from afar. He noticed how she treated other guests with politeness-smiles yet kept them in arm's length. She was a woman who knew her worth, who knew what power she held. And that is what made her all the more desirable to him.

But as much as he wanted her, Alejandro knew he couldn't act rashly. He needed a plan, some way to draw near her without raising suspicions from Giovanni. It would take time, patience, and careful planning. But Alejandro was nothing if he wasn't patient. He had waited this long; he could wait a little longer.

Now that the party was at a close, Alejandro stepped out into the chill of the evening. He threw one last look over his shoulder; his gaze once more found Isabella. She stood by the great staircase, her hand lightly laid on the banister. For a second, he felt that she might have turned to glance at him, but she did not. She turned and moved up the stairs, out of sight.

Alejandro stepped out into the cool night air, his jaw tightening. The image of Isabella walking away from him burned into his mind, fueling his determination. Whatever the cost, he would make her his.

The drive back to Alejandro's estate was a complete blur. All he could think about was Isabella, rewinding that small second when their eyes met again and again. He could feel the intensity in her gaze - that it had almost pierced through him. It had been as though she had seen something in him, something that no one had ever noticed.

But what was it that she had seen? And most importantly, what had she thought about him?

Alejandro's fists clenched in anger. He hated the way she turned him on-like some crazy, depraved beast controlled only by basic animal lust. Always before, pride in himself lay with being one cool cat. Whatever came, whatever went, nothing shook Alejandro. Yet somehow, Isabella Moretti could unmake him at each and every turn and shake him until everything was thrown to the four winds.

When the car pulled up to the gates of his estate, Alejandro swallowed hard, fighting the urge to show his anxiety. He just couldn't afford to let his feelings get out of hand now. Not when everything was on the line.

The estate had been a sprawling compound, walled high and patrolled by armed men. It was a fortress, a place to which Alejandro could retreat from the dangers of the outside world. But tonight, it felt more like a prison, a place where he was trapped with his thoughts.

He got out and walked inside. The sound of his steps echoed in the large foyer. There was no sound in the house except the gentle, mechanical ticking of the clock somewhere in it. Alejandro poured another drink and sank into his chair as his mind continued to race.

He needed a plan, a means of drawing closer to Isabella without arousing suspicion from Giovanni. But how? The Moretti estate was a fortress, even more guarded than his own, and Isabella was never seen in public, always kept under her father's watchful eye.

And then Alejandro's mind turned to the party, the way Isabella had looked at him. Something, he felt, had flashed into her eyes that he couldn't quite place - something curious, interested, yet he didn't know; it could have just been his desire to see them.

He shook his head to clear it and knew he just could not afford to have feelings interfere with judgment. He must think clearly and approach this matter with the same deliberation that he approached all of his affairs - precisely, with calculation.

As he sat there, lost in thought, a plan began to form in his mind. It was a dangerous, almost reckless idea, but it was the only thing that could work. He knew he had to infiltrate the Moretti estate, get closer to Isabella without her father's knowledge. It would require time, patience, and painstaking planning, but Alejandro was prepared to do anything.

He reached for his phone and dialed a number. After a few rings, a voice he knew all too well came on the line.

"Mateo," Alejandro said, keeping his tone even and low. "I need you to get the guys together. We got work to take care of."

There was silence on the other end, and Alejandro could practically hear the doubt in Mateo's voice. "Alejandro, are you sure about this? If Giovanni finds out-"

"He won't," Alejandro cut in, his voice admitting no opposition. "I'll see to it."

Mateo sighed, knowing better than to argue. "Fine," he said finally. "I'll round up the men. But be careful, Alejandro. This is dangerous territory."

Alejandro hung up and sat back in his chair, his jaw set with determination. He knew the risks, but he also knew he could not just let Isabella slip through his fingers. Whatever it took to make her his, he would do; she was worth any risk, any danger.

As the night wore on, Alejandro's mind would not quiet; it was the plan now taking form in his head. He had to get information, survey the Moretti estate and all its security, find a way to get closer to Isabella without arousing suspicion, and be prepared for the consequences when things went south.

For the moment, he could only wait. Wait and plan. Until the time would be right, then he would act.

Finally, with the first morning light slanting through the chinks in the window, Alejandro got up and walked to his bedroom. He knew sleep would be hard to come by, but he needed rest, needed to gather energies for what was to come.

Lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling, there was just one thought inside his head, recurring: he was going to have Isabella Moretti. No matter the cost.