Bound by Chains
Isabella
I didn’t move.
Not at first.
The way Adrian Sinclair looked at me—calm, composed, but with an unmistakable glint of possession in his eyes—made my skin prickle with unease.
I had spent years ensuring no one had power over me again. No one would dictate my choices, my future. And yet, standing in this luxurious penthouse, I felt the invisible chains tightening around me.
My pulse was a steady, controlled rhythm, but my fingers curled into fists at my sides. "You really think you own me, Sinclair?"
His lips quirked slightly. "Think? No, Isabella. I know."
I let out a cold, humorless laugh. "You’re delusional."
Adrian took a step closer. I held my ground, refusing to shrink beneath the weight of his presence.
"Am I?" His voice was a smooth, deliberate challe
