Chapter 185
He stood at the precipice of vulnerability, torn between baring his soul or retreating into the safety of silence.
In the end, Alexander chose honesty.
This is who I am. This is what I crave.
His voice, rough with restraint, carried the weight of years of suppression, mirroring the storm brewing in his darkened gaze. Layers of hidden desires surfaced, raw and unapologetic.
Alexander had long accepted his unconventional nature—his need for intensity beyond what most would deem acceptable.
Society wouldn’t understand.
The media had sculpted him into the untouchable CEO of Kingsley Group, a genius whose darker inclinations had to remain veiled.
He never imagined revealing this side of himself to Isabella like this—so exposed, so vulnerable.
So if you find me repulsive, if you want to walk away… I’ll understand.
I’ll handle the company matters myself.
Outwardly, he was the composed, unshakable Alexander Kingsley.
Inside, his chest ached as if carved open.
Some secrets could be buried, but never erased.
Perhaps it was better to lay them bare now.
But before he could continue, Isabella’s question caught him off guard.
“Why do you feel the need to explain this to me?”
Alexander blinked.
He had expected disgust. Revulsion. Instead, her expression held only mild curiosity, as if she were merely puzzled, not repelled.
“Because we’re friends.”
The words felt inadequate.
Perhaps it was the way her eyes held his, unflinching, that made deception impossible. Whether it was his achievements or his shadows, he wanted no lies between them.
“I don’t want to hide anything from you.”
Isabella didn’t recoil.
She didn’t even frown.
Instead, her lips curved into a faint smile. “We are friends.”
If the moment hadn’t been so charged, she might have savored the revelation more.
She hadn’t expected this duality in Alexander—the ruthless CEO who commanded empires, yet in private, surrendered so completely to submission.
The contradiction fascinated her.
Especially knowing that a man like him, who demanded reverence from everyone else, had been entirely under her control that night—so much so that his affection had felt genuine.
It was intoxicating.
The kiss in the elevator hadn’t been an accident.
“Mr. Kingsley, you’re overthinking this.”
Isabella snapped back to the present, amused.
Was she being judged through some moral lens in his eyes? She wasn’t some sheltered girl scandalized by unconventional desires.
So she teased, “Besides, I’ve been known to enjoy tormenting people for fun. Watching them squirm brings me joy.”
“Really?”
Alexander stepped closer.
His presence loomed over her, dominance radiating from every inch of him—his bare torso, the sharp cut of his abs, the striking V-line leading downward.
Isabella’s pulse quickened.
She considered how to justify invading his space—then instinct made her retreat.
Her back hit the wall.
Her fingers brushed the hidden knife at her thigh.
“Are you planning to silence me?”
Bewilderment flickered through her.
His demeanor had shifted—dangerous, unreadable.
A second ago, things had been fine. Now, he had her cornered.
If he intended violence, she wouldn’t make it easy.
She opened her mouth to speak—
Then his breath warmed her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
“If it’s you doing the tormenting… I wouldn’t mind.”
The space between them vanished.
So close, she could see the dark sweep of his lashes, the intensity of his gaze.
Isabella’s hand stilled.
This didn’t feel like a confession anymore.
It felt like a vow.
The air thickened, charged with something unspoken.
Her hands, as if compelled, settled on his waist, fingertips burning against his skin.
Scars marred his back—each one a story, each one adding to his rugged allure.
She looked up.
“What do you want?”
The question hung between them, heavy with possibility.
