Chapter 66

ISABELLA

The night air hit me as I stepped outside—sharp and freezing. I tightened my coat around me, exhaling a cloud of breath into the cold. London was still alive in its own way—neon signs flickering in the distance, the muffled hum of traffic threading through the silence.

never seemed rushed or out of place. He carried time differently—as if it bent around him rather than the other way around—except when a race was involved. I suppose that was just a trait of the wealthy.

“The hotel isn’t close,” he said, his voice smooth and unhurried. “The driver left the car at the lot. I can take you back, or you can get a taxi. The fare will be reimbursed.”

Then he regarded me silently. “It’s your choice, Isabella.”

I tilted my head slightly, considering. His tone was neutral, his posture relaxed, yet something lay beneath the surface—something I couldn’t quite name. Perhaps my senses had become more attuned by the hunch that my boss and master were one and the same person—and that I’d been played for a fool.

A taxi would be the easier choice. Impersonal. Simple.

And yet, the words left my lips before I could even think them through: “You should take me back.”

His gaze lingered on mine a second longer than necessary—searching, unreadable. There was something in the way his eyes held me, like a silent question left unspoken. Then, with a small nod, he turned and gestured toward the parking lot.

The drunken night was behind us now—no longer a stumbling block, no longer an obstacle thick with unsaid words. He was my boss; I was his subordinate. Everything was as it should be.

And yet, as I slid into the passenger seat, I felt… tense. Not just from curiosity, but from something deeper, something insidious curling in my core, leaving a lingering warmth between my thighs. A quiet, almost maddening reminder of what had passed between us, and what still remained unspoken.

The driver started the car in silence, his fingers moving with effortless precision over the controls.

"Play some music for us," Levi said, his voice steady, composed.

Almost instantly, the soft hum of the speakers filled the car, smoothing over the quiet. The deep bass of Gorilla by Bruno Mars pulsed through the air, a provocative choice that made my breath hitch. I sang along quietly, my voice a mere whisper against the melody. I loved the song too much to ignore it.

For the first few minutes, the drive was filled with nothing but the muted city lights flickering through the tinted windows, the occasional hush of passing cars, and the gentle lilt of my voice blending with the music. It should have been peaceful, but I was hyper-aware of Levi beside me—his presence too strong, too consuming.

Then, his voice broke through the haze.

"What social media platform do you think we should increase our reach on?"

The abrupt shift to work made me blink, but I recovered quickly. "TikTok," I answered, thinking for a second. "I think it’s where we have the least traction right now compared to our competitors. Take Cheetah, for example—they have 200 million views under their tag CheetahFastRun, while we barely have 30."

Levi nodded, his expression unreadable, though I could tell he was pleased with my answer. Encouraged, I continued explaining, outlining strategies, potential trends we could capitalize on, engagement rates, and how our rivals were leveraging the algorithm.

What followed was an impromptu strategy meeting—him asking more work-related questions, and me answering with a focus and enthusiasm that surprised even me. His tone was calm, detached, all business. Mine, however, was laced with something else—excitement, confidence, maybe even ambition. As if we weren’t both exhausted from the long night behind us. As if I wasn’t still thinking about the way he’d looked at me earlier.

By the time we arrived at the hotel, I had convinced myself of two things. One, I was damn good at my job. And two, in a few years, I could start my own company. The thought sent a thrill through me, a quiet fire in my chest.

"Thanks for the ride, sir," I said, reaching for the door handle.

But before I could push it open, Levi's hand closed over mine, stopping me.

"Wait."

I froze.

His fingers weren’t tight, just firm enough to make sure I didn’t move. My stomach tightened at the sudden shift in the air, the subtle change in his voice—smooth, unquestionable. Final.

Levi turned to the driver. "Sam, you can retire for the night. I have something to discuss with Isabella."

The driver gave a curt nod, exiting the car without hesitation. The door shut behind him with a soft click, sealing us in the quiet, dimly lit interior of the car of the Ferrari jeep.

My pulse drummed in my ears.

Why did he want me to stay?

Before bi could make sense of it all, Levi turned to me, his movements slow, deliberate. The soft glow from the dashboard barely illuminated his face, casting his sharp features in shifting shadows. God! He was handsome. Drop dead gorgeous.

His gaze—dark, unreadable—locked onto mine and his blue eyes were like a well to the deepest desire one could ever attain.

“Sir…” My voice was steady, but it took effort. “Have I done something wrong?”

“On the contrary,” he murmured, his lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. It wasn’t quite anything.

My throat tightened.

“I’m lost…”

Levi didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached into his pocket, the motion so unhurried it felt intentional, like he wanted me to notice. Anticipate. Dread.

A heartbeat passed. Then another.

His hand emerged, fingers wrapped around something dark. With a subtle flick of his wrist, he let it unfurl in his palm.

A blindfold.

My breath hitched.

He really is my master!

The jeep suddenly felt much smaller, the air heavier, pressing against my skin. I could hear the faint tick of the engine cooling, the distant murmur of the city beyond the tinted windows, but inside this space—inside this moment—there was only him. Only us. Only anticipation.

He held the blindfold out to me, his fingers relaxed, his posture easy—but his eyes? They told a different story. Something simmered there, something sharp and unrelenting, as if he had let his demons out to play with me.

Did I want to be the pet thing of my boss’s demons? Fuck!

“Wear it,” Levi said, his voice smooth as silk, firm as steel. “And I’ll clear all your confusion.”

My pulse pounded against my ribs.

I should have said no.

Instead, I reached for the blindfold.

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