CHAPTER SIX: THE CHAINS TIGHTEN
691 Words
Chapter Six: The Chains Tighten
The morning light streamed through the massive windows, illuminating the luxurious apartment that still didn’t feel like hers. Isla sat on the edge of the plush bed, staring at the keycard Alessio had given her the night before.
Everything about this felt wrong.
Her grandmother was safe, but at what cost?
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Alessio: Be ready in an hour. I’ll send a car.
Her stomach tightened.
So, it was starting.
She showered quickly, letting the hot water soothe her nerves, but nothing could ease the weight in her chest.
Dressed in a fitted black skirt and a white blouse—the only professional outfit she owned—she made her way downstairs. A sleek black car was already waiting.
The driver opened the door without a word.
She slid inside, her heart pounding.
She wasn’t sure if it was fear, resentment, or something else entirely.
---
When they arrived at Moretti Enterprises, Isla had expected to feel out of place.
She hadn’t expected the stares.
Employees whispered as she walked past, their gazes darting between her and the man waiting for her near the entrance.
Alessio.
He looked effortlessly powerful—dark suit, crisp white shirt, no tie, top buttons undone just enough to make her pulse stutter.
He smirked as she approached. “Nervous?”
“No,” she lied.
“Good.” He gestured for her to follow him inside.
The office was stunning—glass walls, modern decor, a skyline view of Rome.
But Isla barely had time to admire it before he was leading her into his office.
Massive. Imposing. Just like him.
“Your job is simple,” Alessio said, taking a seat behind his desk. “You handle my schedule, screen my calls, and make sure my day runs smoothly.”
Isla crossed her arms. “That’s it?”
He leaned back, studying her. “For now.”
She swallowed. “And if I refuse?”
His expression darkened. “You don’t have that option, dolcezza.”
Her jaw clenched. She hated him.
But she hated feeling powerless even more.
So, she forced a tight smile. “Fine.”
Alessio smirked. “Good girl.”
The words sent an infuriating shiver down her spine.
This was going to be hell.
---
The hours dragged on, but Isla forced herself to focus.
She answered calls, managed meetings, and ignored the lingering looks from employees who clearly wanted to know who she was and why she was here.
At lunch, she was about to step out when Alessio’s voice stopped her.
“Where are you going?”
She turned, frowning. “To get food.”
His brow arched. “Cancel your plans.”
Her fists clenched. “Why?”
He stood, grabbing his suit jacket. “Because you’re coming with me.”
Before she could protest, he was already walking toward the elevator.
She followed, fuming.
---
They ended up in a private restaurant, the kind only men like Alessio Moretti could afford.
The hostess led them to a secluded booth in the back.
Isla sat stiffly as the waiter poured wine.
Alessio watched her, amusement dancing in his dark eyes. “You look like you’re being held hostage.”
She scowled. “Aren’t I?”
He chuckled, swirling his wine. “There are worse places to be trapped.”
Isla huffed. “So, what is this? A power move? Dragging me to lunch so I remember who’s in control?”
His smirk deepened. “I don’t need to remind you. You already know.”
She opened her mouth to snap back, but the arrival of the waiter forced her to bite her tongue.
The meal was incredible, but she refused to enjoy it.
She refused to let him win.
But when Alessio leaned in, his voice dropping to a low murmur, her entire body tensed.
“This little game we’re playing?” His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “You won’t win, dolcezza.”
A chill ran down her spine.
Because for the first time, she realized—
She wasn’t just fighting Alessio.
She was fighting herself.
- Writer
