The moment Isla stepped into the sleek black limousine, she knew this was a mistake.
She should have fought harder.
Should have refused.
Should have done something.
But now?
She was trapped.
And Adrian Blackwood?
He was enjoying every second of it.
The doors clicked shut behind them, sealing her fate.
"You still have time to change your mind," she said, her voice tight.
Adrian smirked, stretching out on the leather seat across from her, his tailored suit molding perfectly to his powerful frame.
"You overestimate your choices, Isla."
Her fingers curled into fists.
"Where are we going?"
Adrian exhaled slowly, as if bored with her defiance already.
"You'll find out soon enough."
Then, with a slow, calculated move, he reached for the bottle of champagne chilling beside him, pouring himself a glass.
"Drink?" he offered, arching a brow.
She glared.
He smirked.
"Suit yourself."
And then—he watched her.
The weight of his gaze was unbearable.
Every time he looked at her like that, like he already owned her, it set her skin on fire.
She turned away, pressing her legs tightly together, willing her body to ignore him.
But Adrian?
He knew exactly what he was doing.
And he was just getting started.
The drive took two hours.
When the limo finally slowed, Isla's breath hitched.
Because outside the tinted windows stood a secluded, private estate moonlight casting sharp shadows over its modern, glass-walled exterior.
Adrian stepped out first, adjusting the cuff of his watch before turning to face her.
"Out."
She stared at him, unwilling to move.
"Adrian, I don't—"
"Now, Isla."
The command was soft. Deadly.
Her heart pounded as she stepped out onto the stone driveway, the night air cool against her flushed skin.
The estate was massive, silent, and utterly isolated.
No one to see her.
No one to hear her.
No escape.
She swallowed hard.
"You brought me here alone?"
Adrian's lips curved wickedly.
"Did you think I'd share?"
Her stomach tightened.
Before she could respond, he took her by the wrist, leading her up the steps.
Her skin burned where he touched her.
Not rough.
Not cruel.
Just… undeniable.
And that was what scared her most.
The Tension Breaks
The second they stepped inside, Isla yanked her wrist free.
"This isn't happening," she snapped.
Adrian turned slowly, unbothered. Amused, even.
"Is that so?"
Her breath came hard. Fast.
"You think you can buy me?" she spat.
Adrian laughed softly.
"No, Isla. I think I already have you."
She swung before she could stop herself.
But he caught her wrist—easily, effortlessly.
And then, in a single move, he had her pinned against the wall.
His body, firm and impossibly warm, pressed against hers.
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Adrian was so close, his breath ghosted over her lips.
"Still pretending you don't feel this?" he murmured.
Her skin prickled.
"Let me go," she whispered.
Adrian tilted his head.
"Say you don't want me, Isla," he said, voice low. Dangerous.
"Say it, and I'll stop."
Her lips parted.
She should say it.
Needed to say it.
But the words… wouldn't come.
Adrian's eyes darkened.
"You can't," he whispered, his fingers brushing her throat.
Isla shuddered.
"Because you're a liar."
She hated him.
She wanted him.
She wanted to run.
She wanted him to stay right where he was.
"Let me go," she tried again, her voice weaker now.
Adrian studied her for a long, tense moment.
And then—
He stepped back.
Her body screamed at the loss of his heat.
He watched her, gaze sharp.
"Go to bed, Isla."
Her pulse raced.
"Why?" she asked.
He smirked.
"Because tomorrow, I'm going to teach you exactly what it means to belong to me."
And with that he walked away.
Leaving Isla breathless, furious, and more shaken than she had ever been.
~
Adrian looked at the form of the woman sleeping on the bed in front of him and sighed.
This whole marriage, this whole situation, was becoming too much for him, and he had to admit it was weighing down on him, sincerely.
His grandfather was to blame for all of this in the first place, for puttingg that stupid rule on ground.
Why couldn't he have just given him the darn inheritance without making him get mariied?
And the annoying part was, he had thought he was going to hate the whole idea of being married, but for some reason it was not as bad as he had thought.
Well he did not like being married, but the person he had chosen....
Isla was a handfull. Brought out parts of him he hadn't known exixted until now, and whats more, he enjoyed riling her up.
She was a fucking fireball, waiting to explode on him at any instant.
"Fuck me..." he whispered taking a sip from the glass of tequila in his hand.
The liquid burned its way down his throat. A feeling that he welcomed as he leaned forward to carefully cover Isla's body with the duvet.
Crazy woman. She had tangled herself up in the material and had exposed her body to the slughtly cold air.
He briefly wondered what she had been dreaming of. Had she been fighting with him?
The thought made him chuckle.
Adrian tore his gaze of her, and finally left the room, shutting the door quietly and making his way to the living room where he brought out his phone and dialed a number.
He was attracted to Isla. No doubt about that. And he had the rest of his year to take what he wanted.
Although Isla seemed like the kind of woman who didn't easily fall for charms, he was confident and ready enough to take his damn time.
His lips curled into a smile. Afterall, he was Adrian Sinclair, and he always got what he wanted.
"Hello? Sir?" Not that he wanted to hear his assistant's voice at the moment, but it was a welcome distraction, before he went back into that room on impulse.
"Please send me the Olivario file. I need to look through it." Adrain said. Work was always a welcome distraction.