The silence in Alexander's office was deafening after Isabella left.
He sat at the edge of his desk, unmoving, her words replaying in his mind: "I'm not here for deals, Mr. Knight. I'm here to win."
She wasn't like the others.
Isabella Harper didn't just challenge him—she unnerved him. And worse, she made him feel something he thought he'd buried long ago. Desire... respect... even curiosity. She wasn't trying to impress him—she dared him to underestimate her.
And that was dangerous.
Later that night, Isabella stared at the ceiling of her apartment, her heart still racing. She hadn't let Veronica get to her. Not outwardly. But behind her cool exterior, something had cracked.
She wasn't intimidated by ex-fiancées. But his ex?
Veronica Vale was no ordinary woman. She was lethal—with wealth, connections, and a history tied to Alexander's heart.
Isabella hated the jealousy that coiled in her stomach.
This wasn't personal. It couldn't be.
But when she closed her eyes, she remembered the way Alexander looked at her during the meeting. The flicker of fire in his eyes. The tension in his jaw when she called Veronica "baggage."
It wasn't just about business anymore. And they both knew it.
The next morning, Isabella didn't bother with subtlety. She walked into the Knight building like a storm in heels—her sleek white dress hugged her curves like second skin, her heels echoing through the marble like war drums.
Let them talk.
Let him watch.
She wasn't here to blend in. She was here to win.
She stepped into Alexander's office without knocking.
He looked up, startled. "You're early."
"I don't like surprises," she said coolly. "I prefer to be the surprise."
A smirk tugged at his lips. "Mission accomplished."
She stepped closer than she should have. "I'm not here to play games with your exes. If you're going to drag your past into this, let me know now so I don't waste my time."
He rose slowly, closing the space between them until only inches separated their bodies.
"I didn't invite her back into my life," he said, his voice low. "She invited herself."
"And you let her," Isabella challenged, her chin tilted up.
His eyes dropped to her lips—only for a second—but it was enough.
"This thing between us," she added, her voice quieter, "whatever it is... you need to decide what you want, Mr. Knight. Business or something else. Because I won't mix the two."
He reached up, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending a jolt down her spine.
"I always get what I want, Isabella," he murmured.
She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper. "Then you'd better make sure you know what that is."
And just like that, she turned and walked out—leaving him breathless and shaken.
For once, Alexander Knight didn't feel in control.
He felt tempted.
And that was far more dangerous.