The tension in the air was suffocating.
Isabella sat in the dimly lit restaurant, her fingers gripping the napkin in her lap as she tried to steady her nerves.
She didn't know why she had agreed to meet him.
Maybe it was the way his voice had wrapped around her over the phone, smooth and inescapable. Or maybe it was the unspoken warning laced beneath his words—an invisible chain that pulled her in despite the voice in her head screaming at her to run.
Either way, she was here.
Facing the one man she had sworn to stay away from.
Ethan Lancaster sat across from her, dressed in a tailored black suit that only made him look more dangerous. He exuded power, dominance—an untouchable force that demanded control over everything around him.
Including her.
Especially her.
He leaned back in his chair, watching her with an unreadable expression. "You look beautiful tonight."
She ignored the compliment. "Why did you ask me to meet you?"
His lips twitched. "Straight to the point. I like that."
She exhaled sharply, frustration curling in her chest. "Ethan."
He picked up his wine glass, swirling the deep red liquid before taking a slow sip. Then, he set it down with deliberate precision.
"I have a proposition for you."
Her stomach twisted. "A proposition?"
His eyes met hers, unwavering. "Marry me."
The world tilted.
She stared at him, convinced she had misheard.
Then she let out a breathless laugh. "You're joking."
"I'm not."
The confidence in his voice sent a chill through her.
She shook her head. "You're insane."
"Possibly." He took another sip of wine. "But that doesn't change my offer."
She leaned forward, her voice sharp. "Why the hell would I marry you?"
He tilted his head, as if amused by her reaction. "Because it benefits us both."
She scoffed. "I don't see how marrying you benefits me in any way."
"You will."
Her fists clenched. "I am not some business deal, Ethan."
"No," he agreed. "You're not." His voice dropped lower, more dangerous. "You're something far more important."
She inhaled sharply, her pulse pounding in her ears.
"Why?" she whispered.
His fingers drummed against the table, his expression unreadable. "There are things happening behind the scenes that you don't know about. Marrying me will keep you safe."
A cold weight settled in her chest. "Safe from what?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box, placing it on the table between them.
The sight of it sent a rush of panic through her.
"Ethan…"
"Open it."
She hesitated.
Then, with trembling fingers, she lifted the lid.
A diamond ring. Large. Stunning.
Trapping.
She snapped the box shut, pushing it away. "I'm not doing this."
His jaw tightened. "Yes, you are."
Her heart pounded. "You can't force me."
He leaned forward, his voice like silk and steel. "I don't need to."
She hated the way her body reacted to him. Hated the way his presence made her feel like she was drowning and burning at the same time.
Hated that a part of her wasn't entirely against the idea.
"Think about it," he murmured. "You don't have to answer now."
She shot him a glare. "I just did."
He smirked. "We'll see."
And just like that, the proposal—the dangerous, suffocating proposal—hung between them like an unbreakable thread.
She should have walked away.
But deep down, she knew—
Ethan Lancaster never made offers without knowing the outcome.
And this was far from over.