Chapter 106
LEVI
Most women I’d known before would’ve caved by now.
Money always won.
Comfort. Gifts. Status.
They bent for it—bent for me.
But her?
Isabella acted like she didn’t need any of it. Like she wasn’t neck-deep in debt and desperation. Like pride—fucking pride—mattered more than survival.
Still, she was the poorest of them all.
Surely, she wasn’t different.
Was she?
Of course, I didn’t mean the offer. I had chefs. I had control. I could buy a chain of restaurants if I wanted.
When they weren’t around, I cooked for myself and for the women I claimed.
I fed her. I owned her appetite.
Though it’s been more than a year since I did that—I hadn’t claimed any woman since.
Still, I could see the quiet ambition in her eyes, and I loved it.
I loved my women ambitious, driven—just like I loved Ferrari’s PR Managers to be.
The company needed a new one, bad. Not mechanical like Mrs. Sebastian. Yes, she was good, but I needed more.
Raw. Isabella.
Isabella moved like raw talent. Untamed. Reckless.
I wanted to ask what she meant by managing PR ideas in her head, but first...
I must end this war she started.
She didn’t know I never fought fair.
She started it.
I’d end it.
I’d been on edge since the moment she walked into my life—weeks ago.
It had been driving me insane. The way her hips moved, the sharp slash of her mouth, the fire in her eyes when she looked at me like I was the one beneath her.
I wanted her to say yes.
Needed it.
Needed her.
Needed her submission.
But at what cost?
Her lips trembled. She was about to cry.
I didn’t expect that.
It’s been long since I saw her cry—on that night when I offered her the job.
And I remembered how it had hurt me to see.
I felt now, though, that she was trying not to give me the satisfaction of knowing I’d hurt her.
Not that I’d hurt her only—no, it was deeper than that.
I hadn’t just offended her.
I’d insulted who she was.
And just like that, the amusement curdled in my mouth.
I looked at her. Really looked.
And for the first time in a very long time, I felt like a goddamn asshole for it.
“You should find another woman who’ll be interested,” she said quietly, voice tight. “I have no intention of correcting your misconceptions about me,” she whispered, voice small. Then she cleared her throat and looked away.
I had succeeded in silencing her defiance. In winning.
But at what cost?
Her silence was killing.
I preferred it when she yelled—when she threw her little tantrums.
I exhaled, leaning back against my chair as we sat in silence.
My mind wandered—how much did she really know about the contract she signed?
Her defiance told me all I needed: not enough.
“Look at me,” I said, voice clipped.
She didn’t.
Her eyes stayed glued to the aquarium, watching those ridiculous fish like they could save her.
I stood, anger coiling in my chest. My chair scraped back sharply.
I walked over and pushed her chair away from the desk, then lifted her onto it like she weighed nothing.
Her breath hitched. Her fingers trembled.
But she still didn’t look at me.
“Look at me,” I said again, lower this time—dangerous, laced with command.
And this time, she obeyed.
Slowly. Hesitantly. As though she couldn’t help herself.
Her eyes lifted—those burning brown eyes—and locked onto mine.
There was defiance there, yes. But it was trembling, flickering. Like a candle fighting the wind.
She squirmed under the weight of my gaze, her thighs pressing together involuntarily, and fuck—I felt it everywhere.
My cock throbbed, already hard and straining.
I’d gone an entire year without touching another woman. Not because I couldn’t.
But because I hadn’t wanted to.
Hadn’t needed to.
Until her.
What made her so goddamn special?
Why did this broke, stubborn, infuriating woman make me feel like I’d lose my fucking mind if I didn’t have her?
If I didn’t bend her over and teach her what surrender really meant?
She wasn’t even trying to tempt me. That was the worst part.
She didn’t play coy.
She didn’t seduce.
She resisted.
Yet I was crazy for her.
“You’ve been a bad girl, Isabella,” I said, voice dipping into that space between a command and a caress.
She flinched—just slightly.
Her body shifting on the desk like she knew. Knew what I meant.
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