The city never truly slept, and neither did Isabella Blackwood.
She sat in her dimly lit penthouse, the floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the skyline, neon lights reflecting off the glass.
The silence of the space was familiar—almost comforting.
Her fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest of the leather chair, her mind a battlefield of calculated decisions.
Tonight had been a test.
A dangerous one.
Dante Russo had walked away, but not before making it painfully clear that he wanted nothing to do with her.
That was fine.
He could resist all he wanted.
In the end, he would return, just like they always did.
Still, something about him unsettled her.
It wasn't just the power he wielded in business—it was the way he looked at her.
As if he saw through the perfect image she projected, as if he knew there was something beneath her cold, emotionless mask.
Her throat tightened slightly.
She hated that.
Before she could dwell on it further, her phone buzzed on the table beside her.
Lilly.
Isabella sighed before picking up.
Her twin sister had a way of appearing just when she wanted to be left alone.
"Are you seriously ignoring me?"
Lilly's voice was light, but Isabella could hear the underlying frustration.
She didn't respond.
"Right. Forgot you're in one of your 'mute' moods."
Lilly sighed.
"Come on, Bella. You can talk to me. It's not like I'm some random business associate you have to play ice queen with."
Isabella tapped her fingers against her knee.
She could talk.
She just wouldn't.
Lilly was the only one who knew why.
The trauma they had endured as children still haunted them, but Isabella had chosen silence as her weapon.
A long pause stretched between them before Lilly's voice softened.
"Look, I just wanted to check in. You left that event with Dante Russo, and then nothing. No texts, no calls."
At the mention of his name, Isabella's fingers stilled.
"You like him."
She nearly rolled her eyes.
Like was too weak of a word.
She didn't waste her time on something as trivial as liking someone.
Lilly groaned.
"Ugh, fine. Don't tell me. But be careful, okay? Dante isn't someone you can just manipulate into doing what you want. He's—"
Different.
Isabella knew that.
But she didn't need Lilly's warning.
She had no intention of letting him slip through her fingers.
"I have to go,"
Lilly said after a moment.
"Call me if you need me, okay?"
Isabella nodded, even though Lilly couldn't see.
The call ended, and she leaned back, exhaling slowly.
Her mind was still tangled with Dante when another buzz snapped her out of her thoughts.
A message.
UnknownNumber: You're playing a dangerous game, Miss Blackwood. Watch your back.
Her grip on the phone tightened.
She had made plenty of enemies over the years, but few dared to send her cryptic threats.
Isabella let out a slow, deliberate breath before typing a response.
Me: If you're going to threaten me, at least have the decency to introduce yourself.
No reply.
But that was fine.
She wasn't scared.
She was intrigued.
*************************************************
Meanwhile–Dante'sPOV
Dante stood in his office, staring at the whiskey glass in his hand.
The amber liquid caught the city lights, but his mind wasn't on the drink.
It was on her.
Isabella Blackwood.
The woman was a damn enigma, and he hated enigmas.
He had looked into her, of course.
Blackwood Industries was an empire, but its CEO was more of a ghost than a public figure.
She was ruthless in business, cold in negotiations.
And yet, there were whispers—rumors that she barely spoke outside of corporate settings.
Selective mutism, they called it.
It should've made her vulnerable.
Instead, it only added to her allure.
"You're thinking about her."
Dante didn't turn as his best friend, Adrian Wolfe, stepped into the office.
Adrian was one of the few people Dante trusted—a former military strategist turned business partner.
He had a talent for seeing things Dante didn't, which made him both useful and incredibly annoying.
"She's dangerous,"
Dante muttered.
Adrian smirked, leaning against the desk.
"So are you. That never stopped you before."
Dante downed the rest of his whiskey, his jaw tightening.
"She's playing a game."
"Of course, she is."
Adrian shrugged.
"But the real question is—do you want to win, or do you want to play?"
Dante didn't answer.
Because he wasn't sure.
*************************************************
The Next Day–BlackwoodIndustries
Isabella walked into the boardroom with the precision of a queen entering her throne room.
The room fell silent as she took her seat at the head of the table, her expression unreadable.
"Let's begin."
The executives exchanged wary glances.
They were used to her quiet dominance, her ability to control a room without raising her voice.
One of the senior board members, Marcus Reed, cleared his throat.
"Miss Blackwood, we've received a new acquisition offer from Russo Corp. They're proposing a merger—"
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
A merger?
Her fingers curled against the smooth wood of the table.
Dante Russo was making his move.
She took the document Marcus slid toward her, skimming through the details.
It was bold—almost reckless.
He wanted a seat at her table.
She pressed her lips together, considering.
If he thought she would accept without a fight, he was mistaken.
"I'll review it," she finally said, setting the document aside.
Marcus hesitated.
"With all due respect, Miss Blackwood, this is a lucrative deal. If we stall—"
Her sharp gaze cut him off mid-sentence.
She didn't need words to assert her authority.
Marcus nodded quickly, sinking back in his chair.
"Meeting dismissed," she said.
One by one, the board members filed out, until only her best friend remained.
Eleanor Hayes leaned against the table, crossing her arms.
"So? Are you going to take the deal?"
Isabella's lips twitched.
"What do you think?"
Eleanor snorted.
"I think you're going to make Dante Russo suffer before you even consider it."
A rare smile ghosted Isabella's lips.
Eleanor knew her well.
*************************************************
ThatNight–ADangerousInvitation
Dante didn't expect an invitation.
Yet, there it was.
A simple white envelope delivered to his office, no name, just a location.
He knew it was from her.
And he knew exactly what it meant.
Isabella Blackwood was inviting him into her world.
He arrived at the exclusive rooftop lounge just before midnight.
The air was crisp, the city sprawling below in endless lights.
She was already there, sitting alone in a private section, a glass of wine in hand.
The soft glow of the city framed her silhouette, making her look untouchable.
Dante approached, his presence commanding, but she didn't acknowledge him immediately.
Instead, she lifted her glass to her lips, taking a slow sip.
"Bold move," he said, taking the seat across from her.
Her gaze flickered to his.
Challenge accepted.
Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken tension.
Then, she did something unexpected.
She leaned forward, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I don't trust you."
Dante smirked.
"Good. I don't trust you either."
A slow, deliberate smile curved her lips.
Finally, the game had truly begun.