Isla Morrison hated business parties. The pretentious air, the clinking of champagne glasses, and the forced conversations always made her feel out of place. But tonight, she couldn’t avoid it. Her boss had insisted she attend the launch of Everhart Enterprises' latest venture. As an editor for a high-profile magazine, it was her job to network, and unfortunately, this was part of the game.

She tugged at the hem of her dress, wishing she had chosen something more comfortable instead of the sleek black number that hugged her in all the wrong places.

She stood near the bar, swirling her drink absentmindedly as the buzz of the party moved around her. Her gaze drifted over the crowd, catching glimpses of designers, business moguls, and celebrities. Everyone here looked like they belonged—everyone except her.

She sighed and was about to make her escape when she felt it—a pair of eyes watching her. Her body stiffened. Slowly, she turned, her gaze meeting the dark, intense eyes of Luca Everhart,

the man of the hour. He stood across the room, the center of attention, yet somehow apart from it. His tailored suit clung to his broad frame, and his dark hair was perfectly styled, but it was the way he looked at her—like she was the only one in the room—that sent a chill down her spine.

Isla quickly averted her gaze, pretending not to notice the way his eyes burned into her. She had heard of Luca Everhart. Everyone had. He was the ruthless CEO who built an empire from the ground up, a man known for his aggressive business tactics and icy demeanor. He was untouchable. Or so they said.

But that didn't explain why, in the next moment, Luca was moving toward her, his presence commanding the space as he crossed the room with purpose. Isla’s heart pounded in her chest, and for a split second, she considered slipping away into the crowd. Before she could act on the thought, Luca was standing in front of her, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

"Isla Morrison, right?" His voice was smooth, low, with a hint of something dangerous lurking beneath the surface.

Her surprise must have shown on her face because his smirk deepened.

“I make it a point to know the names of intriguing people,” he added, his eyes flickering over her, as if she were a puzzle he was intent on solving.

Isla swallowed, trying to steady her breath. “And I make it a point to avoid unnecessary attention,” she replied coolly, not willing to let him rattle her.

Luca chuckled softly, the sound sending an unexpected shiver down her spine. “You’re different,” he said, stepping closer, his scent—a mix of cedar and something more intoxicating—filling the space between them. “Most people here would kill for a minute of my time, and yet, you look like you can’t wait to get out of here.”

Isla met his gaze, the intensity of it making her skin prickle. "Not everyone is here to impress you, Mr. Everhart."

Luca’s eyes darkened, the amusement in them fading, replaced with something more dangerous. He took another step closer, and this time, Isla didn’t move. There was something magnetic about him, something that made her want to understand the man beneath the cold exterior.

“Maybe not," Luca murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. "But you—you’re not like them. You don’t belong in this crowd, do you?"

Isla’s heart skipped a beat. It was as if he could see straight through her, past the facade she put up for the world to see. She didn’t know why, but it scared her how easily he seemed to strip away her defenses. She didn’t want him to see her. She didn’t want anyone to see her.

“I’m here for work,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s all.”

Luca’s eyes remained locked on hers, studying, searching. Then, just as quickly as he had appeared, his expression softened, and he took a small step back. "Work. Right. Well, if you're ever looking for something more... interesting, you know where to find me."

Isla blinked, unsure of what to say. Luca turned and walked away, leaving her standing alone at the bar, her heart pounding in her chest. She exhaled, realizing she had been holding her breath.

That night, as she lay in bed, Luca Everhart's dark eyes haunted her thoughts. She told herself that it was nothing. Just a momentary attraction. After all, what did a man like Luca Everhart want with someone like her?

But as the days passed, she couldn’t shake the feeling that she had just crossed paths with a storm she wasn’t ready for.

And storms, she knew, always left destruction in their wake.

The next morning, Isla tried to convince herself that her encounter with Luca Everhart was a fleeting moment, something easily forgotten. She had more important things to worry about—deadlines, meetings, and her usual routine. But deep down, a part of her knew it wasn’t that simple. The intensity of his gaze, the magnetism in his voice—it lingered in her mind like an echo.

As she stepped into her office, a wave of unease washed over her. She couldn’t explain it, but something felt different. Shrugging off the feeling, she dropped her bag onto her desk and powered up her computer. A fresh email pinged her inbox, and her stomach tightened when she saw the sender's name: **Luca Everhart**.

The subject line was simple: *Dinner Tonight?*

Isla’s fingers hovered over the keyboard. She wanted to ignore it, pretend it never arrived, but something compelled her to open the message. Inside was a brief but direct invitation:

*Isla,

I’ll have a car pick you up at 7 p.m. at your office. Looking forward to seeing you.

Luca.*

Her heart raced. Who did he think he was, assuming she would just drop everything for him? She considered replying with a firm “no,” but something held her back. Despite her better judgment, the idea of dinner with Luca intrigued her—his intensity drew her in, even if she knew she shouldn’t get involved.

She stared at the screen, biting her lip. After a few moments of hesitation, Isla closed her laptop, ignoring the email for now. She had work to focus on. But as the hours passed, she found herself distracted, her thoughts circling back to Luca and his undeniable pull.

---

At 6:45 p.m., Isla was still debating whether to show up. She knew what kind of man Luca was—controlling, possessive, used to getting his way. A part of her wanted to push back, to resist the magnetic force pulling her toward him. But another part of her, the part she wasn’t ready to admit, craved the thrill of being wanted so intensely.

When she stepped out of her office, a sleek black car was already parked outside. The driver got out and opened the door for her, waiting patiently. Isla’s breath hitched. This wasn’t just a dinner; it was Luca’s way of testing her, seeing if she would submit to his world.

Against her better judgment, she walked toward the car, feeling the weight of her decision with every step.

---

The restaurant Luca had chosen was nothing short of extravagant—intimate, dimly lit, and tucked away from the city’s bustling streets. As soon as she entered, the maître d' escorted her to a secluded table in the back, where Luca was already waiting. He stood as she approached, his eyes never leaving hers.

“You came,” he said, his voice smooth and satisfied.

Isla crossed her arms, feeling defensive under his gaze. “I almost didn’t.”

Luca smirked, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “But you did.”

They sat down, and the tension between them was palpable. Isla had never felt so unnerved by someone’s presence before, and yet, she couldn’t deny the electric pull between them.

“Why are you so interested in me?” Isla asked bluntly, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Luca leaned back in his chair, studying her like she was an unsolvable puzzle. “You’re different. You don’t care who I am, or what I can offer. I find that... refreshing.”

Isla raised an eyebrow. “You mean you’re used to people falling at your feet?”

A shadow crossed his face, but his expression quickly returned to its usual calm. “Something like that.”

She narrowed her eyes, refusing to let his charm blind her. “And what happens when you get bored, Luca? What do you do with people then?”

Luca’s jaw tightened, his fingers lightly drumming against the table. “I don’t get bored easily, Isla.”

The way he said her name made her shiver. There was a promise in his voice—one she wasn’t sure she wanted to explore. But something about Luca was intoxicating. She knew it was dangerous to be here, to play along with whatever game he was setting up, but curiosity kept her anchored to the table.

As the night wore on, Luca’s possessiveness became clearer. He asked about her life, her work, but every question was laced with an undercurrent of control. He wanted to know everything about her, and every answer seemed to draw him closer, as if she were his new obsession.

By the time dessert arrived, Isla felt a strange mix of excitement and dread. Luca’s attention was suffocating, yet alluring. She knew she should leave—walk away from this before it became something she couldn’t escape—but the look in Luca’s eyes made it clear that walking away wouldn’t be easy.

As the waiter cleared their plates, Luca leaned forward, his gaze burning into hers. “This isn’t just dinner, Isla. I’m not the kind of man who chases someone for fun.”

Her breath caught in her throat. There it was—the confession she had been waiting for, but also the one she feared. Luca wasn’t interested in casual flirtation. He wanted control. He wanted *her*.

Isla stood up, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’m not someone you can own, Luca,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, but firm.

Luca’s eyes darkened, but he didn’t move. “We’ll see about that.”

Isla turned and walked out of the restaurant, her mind spinning with the weight of his words. She told herself she wouldn’t let him get to her. She wouldn’t fall into his trap. But as she disappeared into the night, the lingering feeling of Luca’s gaze on her back made her doubt whether she could resist him for long.