LEVI'S POV
Isabella will be my ruin. I can feel it, a certainty that coils like a deadly snake around my thoughts. Damn it all, I know it. Despite this certainty, I find myself unable to tear my gaze away from her as she leans back in the chair, staring at me with those beautiful eyes in a drunken haze.
Tonight, she was breathtaking in a red spaghetti-strap gown that clung to her every curve, a sight that drew the attention of every man in the room. I fought the urge to gouge out their eyes for daring to look at her, but I couldn’t, because I'm her boss, and because Elena was by my side.
Elena—our parents are keen on arranging something between us. A suitable match, they say. But I was not interested. Not in the tidbit.
I feigned busyness when she asked about my plans, mentioning a gathering I had organized for my workers. She insisted on joining, perhaps to stake her claim on me, a claim that did not exist and annoyed me that she even tried to claim.
But tonight, my mind was elsewhere, on Isabella alone.
She’s the reason I organized this event in the first place. Seeing her so stressed from work, and having her complain to me about it softened my heart. It's a shame that I couldn’t be by her side through the night.
Elena’s clinginess only served to amplify my distraction with Isabella. I wonder if Elena noticed the longing in my eyes whenever they strayed to Isabella, the unspoken desire that burned beneath the surface.
I hope she didn’t. I’m not ready to fight with my father yet, not until my secret plans have been carried out.
What mattered anyway is that Isabella seemed to enjoy herself tonight, despite not being with me. When I finally reveal the truth to her that I'm her master and her boss, I envision taking her to a club, where she can dazzle me with those sultry dance moves she's so adept at.
And where I can fuck her after. Or in the club. Or the car. Wherever.
"What do you say, boss?" Isabella's voice cut through my reverie, pulling me back to the present. She was here with me now, her presence demanding my attention, and I found myself staring at her lips.
"I'm only here to make sure you get home safely," I replied, my tone firm yet laced with a hint of reluctance. Her grin widened at my response, a knowing glint in her eyes suggesting she saw through my blank expression. Maybe she was more intuitive when drunk.
"Fine. I'll follow you in just to tuck you into bed. As my favorite intern of the quarter, I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you," I added, sounding convincing.
"Thank you, boss," she replied with slurred speech and a burp, which I found oddly sexy.
I hesitated to tell her to call me Levi, sensing it might open a door I wasn't prepared to close. Too much hung in the balance now, and I couldn't risk entangling her in the chaos that surrounded me.
Stepping out of the car, I lifted Isabella effortlessly into my arms. "You can leave now, driver. I'll call when I need you," I instructed, my voice firm as I dismissed him for the night.
Walking towards her apartment, the cool night air kissed our skin, filling me with both peace and fear that Isabella could be my undoing. Yet, despite the fear, there was a strange willingness to embrace whatever may happen tonight.
Ascending the two flights of stairs to her first-floor apartment, I held Isabella close, feeling her weight against me. When we reached her door, I paused, studying her face intently. She was my perfect little sub. I remembered her earlier confession now stirred an unexpected flutter in my chest.
"I LOVE YOU, MASTER," she had said. The words lingered in my heart, laden with implications. Did she mean me as Levi, or as her master, or Mr. L? Or was she simply speaking out of drunkenness? The uncertainty gnawed at my chest.
"Why have we stopped moving?" Isabella drawled, giggling like a little girl as she opened her eyes.
"We're at your door. Where's your key?" I inquired gently.
"Let me down," she said. I lowered her gently to her feet and watched as she fumbled through her bag in a tipsy flurry for her keys. I steadied her with a hand on her waist, guiding her until she found the key and unlocked the door.
With a burp and a sigh of relief, she pushed the door open, leading us into her cozy sanctuary.
"I need to go to the bathroom first," Isabella announced, her words slightly slurred as she leaned on me for support.
"Let me help you," I said gently, guiding her with my hands securely around her waist towards the bathroom.
As we entered the bathroom, Isabella's white underwear lay silently near the bathroom door, a delicate white piece of fabric.
I drew in a deep breath, my fingers twitching with an inexplicable urge to pick it up, as if holding onto something tangible could anchor my swirling thoughts. As if touching, feeling, and inhaling it could somehow heal my inner child.
"I'll give you privacy," I murmured, gently closing the door behind her, my heart pounding hard at the temptation that I had to endure anytime she was around me. Strong, daunting temptations.
Sitting down on a nearby chair in her apartment, I couldn't shake the unsettling question that plagued my mind: had it been a mistake to accompany her to her apartment tonight?
The uncertainty weighed heavily on me, mingling with the discomfort of my dark blue trousers which seemed to constrict around my crotch, a physical reminder of the tension that pulsed through my body. I was hard for her. So hard. And now being with her in a space such as this, how long can I control myself?
I shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the tightness in my pants, yet finding no relief. The only relief I see right now is joining her in that bathroom and fucking her until her neighbors here her screams.
Fuck!