HIS SWEETEST VENGEANCE

THE WALLS CLOSE IN

The drive back to the city was silent. Enzo didn’t look at her. He stared out the window, his jaw tight, his mind somewhere far away. The man who had kissed her under the stars was gone, replaced by a cold, impenetrable stranger.

Isla didn’t dare speak. The word Remember was etched behind her eyes. She felt like she had stumbled into a play in the second act, with no idea of her lines or her role.

For the next week, he was distant. His texts were short and business-like. No more flowers. No more gifts. The whirlwind romance had suddenly stilled, leaving her disoriented and alone.

Her event planning business was her only anchor. She threw herself into work, coordinating a wedding and a corporate lunch, trying to forget the chill in Enzo’s eyes when he’d found her in that room.

But his world wouldn’t let her go.

One evening, working late at her small office, she heard a noise downstairs. Her heart leaped into her throat. The building was supposed to be empty. She thought of Enzo’s warning, of his cold rage. Was this the consequence he meant?

Trembling, she picked up a heavy stapler and crept toward the door. The hallway was dark and silent.

“Hello?” she called out, her voice shaking.

No answer. Just the hum of the refrigerator from the break room. It was nothing. She was jumping at shadows, but his fear was now living inside her.

The next day, she needed a contract from her apartment. As she sorted through her desk, a file folder caught her eye. It was thicker than it should be. She didn’t remember putting half these papers in here.

She pulled it out. It wasn’t a client contract.

It was a collection of papers all about her. A dossier.

Page after page of documents. Her business financial records, marked with red notes. Copies of her apartment lease, with a sticky note asking, “Renewal?”. Photos of her leaving her gym, having coffee with Sophia, taken from a distance without her knowledge.

A cold terror, sharper than any she had ever felt, seized her. This wasn’t a lover’s curiosity. This was surveillance.

She didn’t think. She grabbed the file, ran to her car, and drove straight to his penthouse. His doorman let her up without question. She was still on the list.

She found him in his study, standing before a wall of screens showing city traffic cameras. He turned as she entered, his expression unreadable.

She threw the file onto his expensive wooden desk. The papers scattered.

“What is this?” Her voice was raw. “Why do you have this? Are you having me followed?”

He didn’t flinch. He looked from the spilled papers back to her face, his eyes dark and calm.

“You were in my world, Isla. My private world,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I needed to know who I was letting in.”

“This isn’t ‘knowing’ someone! This is stalking! This is insane!” She was shouting now, tears of fear and betrayal in her eyes.

He took a slow step toward her. “You think my life is a game? You think the people around me are safe? I needed to know if you were a risk. I needed to know every part of your life.”

“So this is all about control?” she cried.

“It’s about survival!” he snapped, his composure finally cracking. His voice rose, filling the large room. “My father is dead because he trusted the wrong person! I will not make his mistake!”

He closed the distance between them, his body radiating a furious energy. “You walk through life so proud, so sure of yourself. You never think about the damage you leave behind. You never think about the consequences!”

The words were a direct echo of their dinner, a blade he had been waiting to use.

She was backed against his desk, trapped. She expected him to shout again, to rage. Instead, he went still, his chest heaving, his eyes burning into hers. The air crackled with a new, dangerous tension.

The anger between them twisted, morphing into something else entirely. Something raw and primal.

His gaze dropped to her lips.

In a sudden, violent movement, his hands cupped her face and he crushed his mouth to hers.

It was nothing like their previous kisses. This was not tenderness or seduction. This was a battle. A punishment and a claiming. She should have fought him. She should have pushed him away.

But she didn’t.

She kissed him back with a fury that matched his own, her fingers tangling in his hair. With a low growl, he broke the kiss, his breathing ragged. Without a word, he swept her into his arms and carried her out of the study, down the hall, and into his bedroom.

He laid her down on the large bed, his eyes never leaving hers. The room was dark, lit only by the city lights filtering through the windows. There were no gentle words, no soft touches. This was hunger. A need to conquer and be conquered.

His hands were everywhere…in her hair, on her waist, under her shirt. She tore at his clothes with the same desperate urgency. This wasn’t about love. It was about power. And in this moment, they were equals.

He pulled down her panties with speed.

“spread your legs”, he commanded.

She obeyed without hesitation.

***

she screamed his name, her legs shaking. She came but he wasn't done eating.

The nanny who raised him taught him not to waste food.

"En..Enzo" she whimpered, tears falling from her eyes. "I'm tired", she managed to whisper. her voice was gone, she'd screamed for three hours.

"I'm not done eating." he snapped, making her beg.

He looked up at her and raised her legs higher. She wondered what he was going to do next.

he climbed on to her and slid gently into her, tweaking her n*****s slightly. She moaned loudly, his name rolling off her tongue. He teased her with his c**k just when she was about to c*m. he stared deeply into her, searching through her soul. She tried breaking contact but he warned. "don't you dare!"

She had no choice than to stare back at him. Without warning, he slammed roughly into her.

"Arghhhhhh" she screamed

"f**k!" he exclaimed, covering her lips with his.

After an hour plus, she thought he was finally done but she was wrong.

He laid beside her, breathing really hard.

After what seemed like seconds, his fingers worked in her, causing her pupil to disappear inside her eyes.

She enjoyed the pain. He pinched her c******s and she came.

Afterward, they lay together in the dark, their bodies still tangled, their breathing slowly returning to normal. He didn’t hold her, but he didn’t pull away either. His arm rested heavily across her waist, a silent claim.

No one spoke. Words would have ruined it.

After a long while, he finally stirred. He rose from the bed and began to dress in the dim light. She watched him, her body still humming, her mind a storm of confusion.

When she finally stood to leave, he was waiting by the door. He looked at her, his expression unreadable in the shadows.

“You are in my world now,” he whispered. “There are no take-backs. There is no walking away.”

He was no longer just a man. He was a force. And she was caught in his gravity, spinning out of control.

She didn’t know if she was his lover or his prisoner.

All she knew was that she was his.