Isabella left the room, her figure disappearing into the shadows as the door clicked shut behind her. Jungkook lay on the bed, his mind racing as the cold metal of the handcuffs bit into his wrists. His pride stung more than the physical discomfort, and he couldn’t stop replaying the way Isabella had toyed with him. He was the one who always had control, the one feared by so many. Yet, here he was—stripped of power, bound to a bed, and at the mercy of the one woman who had completely unraveled him.

His mind couldn’t shake the way she had touched him, the way her lips had whispered so close to his skin. She had reduced him to nothing but a pawn in her game, and it made his blood boil. But what infuriated him more was the realization that, as much as he hated this, as much as his pride screamed at him to fight back, there was a part of him—however small—that couldn’t resist her. Isabella was unlike any woman he’d ever encountered. She was a deadly force, confident, bold, and terrifyingly beautiful. She wasn’t just a rival, not anymore.

She was a challenge.

Jungkook shifted on the bed, testing the cuffs again. He couldn’t stay like this. He wouldn’t. His mind was already working through potential escape plans, but deep down, he knew that getting free wouldn’t be the hardest part. No, the hardest part would be facing Isabella again and regaining the upper hand.

As minutes turned into hours, the room remained eerily quiet. Jungkook’s muscles tensed, waiting for any sound that might signal her return. He wouldn’t sleep—not until he had a way out. But just as his frustration was about to peak, the door creaked open, and Isabella stepped inside once more. Her heels clicked softly against the floor, each step deliberate, measured.

She didn’t say a word at first, simply watched him as she approached. Her eyes held the same spark of amusement as before, like a predator toying with its prey. She crossed the room slowly, her presence commanding, and sat at the edge of the bed, her eyes locked on his.

“Well, Jungkook,” she said finally, her voice soft but laced with authority. “Have you had enough time to think?”

Jungkook glared at her, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a response. He wasn’t going to beg. He wasn’t going to plead. If anything, he was more determined than ever to escape and make her pay for every second of this humiliation.

Isabella tilted her head, her lips curving into a small, amused smile. “Still so defiant,” she murmured. “You’re stubborn, I’ll give you that.” Her hand reached out, trailing her fingers lightly along his arm. “But I wonder... how long will that last?”

Her touch, once again, sent a shiver through him, though he refused to show it. His jaw clenched as he watched her, his eyes burning with a mix of frustration and something else—something he wasn’t ready to name yet.

“I don’t break easily,” Jungkook growled, his voice low and dangerous.

Isabella’s smile widened slightly, and she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “We’ll see about that.”

She pulled back, standing up and moving to the side of the room where a small table stood. On it was a glass of water and a plate of food. She picked up the glass, swirling the liquid inside as she glanced back at him.

“You must be thirsty,” she said casually, as if they were having a normal conversation. “But you see, I don’t believe in giving anything for free. You’ll have to earn it.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes, watching her every move. “And how exactly do you expect me to do that, tied up like this?”

Isabella chuckled softly, setting the glass down and walking back to him, her hips swaying with confidence. “Oh, I’m sure you’ll find a way to be useful,” she said, her voice dripping with implication.

She sat down next to him again, her fingers trailing lazily across his chest, sending an unwelcome thrill through him. Jungkook hated how his body reacted to her. His mind was in a constant battle between wanting to dominate her and the twisted attraction he felt toward her power.

“You think you’ve won,” he said through clenched teeth. “But this isn’t over.”

Isabella raised an eyebrow, amused. “I don’t need to win, Jungkook. I already have you right where I want you.” Her hand moved lower, dangerously close to his waistband, and his breath hitched involuntarily. “But since you seem so eager to resist, let’s see how long you can hold out.”

Her fingers hovered just above his waist, teasing him, before she abruptly stood up and walked away, leaving him on edge, his body tense with anticipation and anger.

“Rest up,” she said, her back to him as she reached the door. “Tomorrow will be much more... interesting.”

With that, she left him alone once again, the room sinking into silence as the door clicked shut behind her.

Jungkook let out a frustrated breath, his mind racing with thoughts of revenge, escape, and the strange, undeniable pull he felt toward Isabella. She was his enemy, his captor, but she had also sparked something inside him that he couldn’t ignore. He wanted her. Not just to dominate her, but to understand her, to unravel the mystery that was Isabella, the mafia queen.

But for now, all he could do was wait.

As the hours dragged on, Jungkook’s mind replayed every interaction they’d had. He knew he had to stay sharp, had to keep his wits about him. Isabella was dangerous, not just because of her power, but because of the way she got under his skin, making him question everything he thought he knew.

Tomorrow, he told himself. Tomorrow, things would change.