Chapter 5 The push and pull

Isla's days in Adrian's penthouse had become a relentless battle. Each morning, she woke up with renewed determination, and each night, she fell asleep exhausted from fighting him at every turn.

But he never wavered.

Adrian was everywhere watching, waiting, anticipating her next move. He was infuriatingly patient, as if he had all the time in the world to wear her down. And maybe he did. But she refused to break.

She sat in the grand living room, curled up in an armchair, staring at the city skyline beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. It was breathtakingly beautiful, but to her, it was just a reminder of what lay beyond the cage he had built for her. Freedom. A life that was no longer hers.

"I assume you're plotting your next escape?"

Isla stiffened at the sound of Adrian's voice. He strolled into the room with his usual quiet confidence, a glass of whiskey in his hand. He looked effortlessly composed, dressed in a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, exposing his strong forearms. Everything about him radiated control.

She turned her gaze back to the city lights. "I wouldn't call it plotting," she said coolly. "More like strategizing."

Adrian chuckled, the sound deep and smooth. "And what brilliant strategy have you come up with this time?"

She looked at him then, meeting his dark gaze head-on. "I haven't decided yet. But I will find a way out of here."

His smirk was infuriating. "You're relentless. I admire that."

Isla's fingers tightened around the armrest. "I don't care what you admire."

He took a slow sip of his whiskey before setting the glass down on the table. "That's the problem, isn't it? You want to hate me. You tell yourself you do. But every time you look at me, there's something else there."

Her stomach clenched. "You're delusional."

Adrian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He was close now too close. "Am I?"

The room felt too small, the air too thick. Isla's pulse quickened, but she forced herself to hold his gaze, refusing to let him see the effect he had on her.

"I see you, Isla," he murmured. "The way your breath hitches when I get close. The way your eyes flicker to my mouth when you think I don't notice."

She sucked in a sharp breath.

"You're imagining things."

His smirk deepened. "Am I?"

Her skin burned with frustration. And something else. Something dangerous. This was the push and pull between them the war neither of them wanted to admit they were fighting.

Adrian reached out, tracing a finger down the side of her face. The touch was feather-light, but it sent a jolt of awareness through her. Isla's breath caught.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered.

She wanted to. She should. But the words wouldn't come. Her lips parted, and for a brief, dangerous moment, she didn't move away.

Then reality crashed down on her.

With a sharp inhale, she turned her head, breaking the contact. "This doesn't mean anything," she said, her voice unsteady.

Adrian studied her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he leaned back, giving her space.

But not before murmuring, "Keep telling yourself that."

Isla didn't sleep that night. Her mind was a battlefield, torn between the undeniable pull she felt toward Adrian and the unshakable resolve to resist him.

She sat by the window, hugging her knees to her chest, staring out at the city that felt so close yet impossibly far away. Adrian's words lingered in her mind, his touch a phantom against her skin. She hated him for making her feel this way hated herself even more for allowing it.

Morning came too soon, golden light spilling into the room. The penthouse was silent, but she knew he was still there. Watching. Waiting.

Determined to regain control, Isla rose and made her way to the dining area. She found Adrian already seated, reading a newspaper as he sipped his coffee. He looked up as she entered, a slow, knowing smile tugging at his lips.

"Sleep well?" he asked, voice rich with amusement.

She ignored him, grabbing a cup of coffee and sitting across from him. "I want to go outside."

Adrian folded his newspaper neatly. "And where exactly would you go?"

"Anywhere that isn't here."

He tilted his head, studying her. "And if I let you, would you promise not to run?"

She met his gaze, fire burning in her eyes. "No."

His smirk was instant. "Honest. I like that."

She set her coffee down, leaning forward. "You can't keep me here forever."

"I can," he said simply. "But I won't."

That caught her off guard. "What?"

He leaned in slightly, his dark eyes locking onto hers. "You'll stay because you want to. Not because I make you."

A shiver ran down her spine. "That will never happen."

Adrian reached across the table, taking her hand in his. She tried to pull away, but he held firm, his touch both gentle and possessive. "You keep saying that," he murmured. "Yet here we are."

Her breath hitched. The space between them vanished, tension crackling like a storm waiting to break. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then Isla did the only thing she could she stood abruptly, pulling her hand free. "I'm done talking."

Adrian chuckled, slow and deep. "We'll see."

She turned on her heel, marching away without another word. But she knew, deep down, that the battle was far from over.

As she walked toward the door to her bedroom, she paused. The feeling of Adrian's gaze was heavy on her back. She wanted to look over her shoulder, to challenge him one more time. But she kept walking, knowing she couldn't let him see how much he affected her. Not yet.

The room she'd been assigned felt too small, despite its size.

The walls seemed to close in on her, the soft, neutral colors only adding to the sterile feel of the place. It was as if Adrian had meticulously crafted her environment to remind her that she wasn't in control here. That no matter how many times she resisted, he would always find a way to reel her back in.

She threw herself onto the bed, her mind whirling.

The thought of escape of somehow breaking free was constant, but it had become harder to see a way out. Adrian had anticipated her every move, every reaction. How many times had she tried to slip away, only to find herself cornered again?

The truth was, she was caught in a web, one that she had walked into willingly at first, but now felt like a trap. A very carefully laid one. But Adrian didn't understand one thing about her she wasn't like the others. She would never give in to him. Not ever.

At least, that's what she kept telling herself.

The sound of a door creaking open broke through her thoughts. She didn't need to turn to know who it was.

Adrian stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the dim light of the hallway. His eyes locked onto hers, and in that moment, she felt something dangerous stir inside her. Something dark.

Something that made her question everything.

"I told you," he said softly, "you don't need to run. I won't make you."

Isla sat up, heart racing. "Don't you dare come any closer."

Adrian's smile was slow, predatory. "I think you'll find that's the last thing you need to worry about."