His World Of Chaos

Chapter Three

Isabella’s POV

This place is suffocating. And all I could think of was how to get far away from here.

Freedom.

That’s all that mattered.

I sat by the edge of the bed, digging my nails in my palm. I’m sure it would bleed soon if I don’t stop. Downstairs, there were loud laughter, the type of laughter that made you angry.

Damiano’s guys.

Soldiers.

Hyenas with guns instead of fangs.

And him. Always him, even when he wasn’t in the room.

He’d left me here for hours. Just gone, after staring at me with those stupid ice-blue eyes, daring me to even breathe wrong. And that warning he whispered in my ear. I could still feel his breath. He mistook the cage for weakness.

Well, cages have doors, genius. And doors can open.

I got up, crept across the floor, bare feet ghosting over the marble. My heart was basically setting off internal sirens. I swear, even the walls probably heard it. I reached for the handle.

Locked.

Of course. It was locked.

My laugh came out more like a bark. Typical Vital he probably double-checked it himself.

I scanned the room again, desperate. There had to be another way. Balcony? Window? Anything. Then I spotted the balcony doors' big glass panels sparkling with city lights. Outside, the skyline was all steel and fire and endless neon.

I moved fast and pried the door opened. The night air felt cold, and for a second I felt alive. Down below, the surroundings were filled with his men, all patrolling with gun in hand.

But the air tasted like freedom.

I climbed the railing. Not that high. I mean, I could break something if I jumped, sure, but better a busted leg than a busted soul, right?

My breath stuttered.

Then

“Don’t.”

The word cut the night in half.

Cold as a blade.

I froze, every nerve lit up. I turned my head, slow and scared as to who I would see, even though I recognized the voice.

Damiano stood there, wearing black from head to toe to blend in with the night. He had his hands in his pockets. He didn’t have to shout. Just that one word made me pause me on my tracks.

“You can’t stop me,” I said. Trying to sound confident, but my voice shook.

He stepped into the moonlight, looking like sin in a suit jaw sharp enough to cut glass, eyes even colder. The kind of guy who never loses.

His mouth twisted, not a smile. Something worse. “Try me.”

God, I hated him. I straightened up, digging for some backbone. “I’d rather die on those rocks than rot in your world.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Then jump.”

My lungs forgot how to work.

I searched his face, hoping for some sign he was bluffing.

Nope.

All stone, except those eyes they burned.

“Go on,” he said, voice soft but lethal. “Show me you’re not just another spoiled brat who thinks she’s special.”

I held tight the railing, shaking not from the drop, but from the truth. He wasn’t bluffing. He would not beg.

But then he moved closer, and suddenly I could smell him smoke, spice, danger.

“You don’t mean it,” I whispered lightly.

He walked over to me in few strides and picked me up like I weighed nothing.

I tried to break free. I hit his chest, trying to free myself from his hold.

“Don’t push me, Bella,” he murmured, his voice stern and evident threat. “I’m not here to save you. I’m your punishment.”

I shoved him away, pissed at my own body. Why the hell was my pulse going wild? Not fear, nope. Something much dumber. Something like want, which made me want to punch myself.

“Go on, then. Kill me,” I snapped, staring him down. “Isn’t that your thing? Playing god?”

His jaw ticked. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d actually do it. Maybe I even wanted him to. Instead, he let me go as if touching would taint him. And honestly, it kind of stung a little.

“You’re not even worth it,” he spat out, voice cold and emotionless. “Try that again and I’ll chain you to the bed.”

My face went up in flames. Anger, shame, and something hotter I didn’t want to label.

“You don’t own me,” I ground out.

His eyes locked on mine, unwavering. Then he leaned in, so close his lips brushed my ear.

“Not yet,” he whispered.

My whole world cracked for a second. I couldn’t breathe right. My body hated me. Or maybe it just hated control.

Then footsteps. Someone is lingering in the doorway.

“Boss,” one of his guys smirked, like this was all a joke. “Didn’t know you liked them like this.”

Gross. I saw Damiano go stiff, muscles tensed like a coiled spring. He turned slowly, dangerously.

“Say that again,” he said, voice low and almost bored. That's kind of scary quiet.

The guy stammered, “I just…”

And then Damiano was on him, pinning him to the doorframe, forearm digging into his throat. The guy’s eyes bugged out, panicking.

“I don’t repeat myself,” Damiano growled. “Talk about her like that again and I’ll rip your tongue out. Got it?”

He nodded like his head might snap off. Damiano shoved him away, sent him stumbling and gasping into the hall.

And then it was just us alone again. The tension thick.

I stared at him, heart beating fast. He’d just defended me practically gone feral. No hesitation, no apology.

But his face? Utter blank. Like he hadn’t just threatened to mutilate someone for me. “Get some sleep,” he said, flat.

“Why?” I shot back, still bristling.

He met my eyes, unreadable. “You’ll need it. For surviving me.”

And then he walked out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving me standing there breathless, pissed off, and way too aware of every nerve in my body.

Damn him.

Damn me.