Chapter 4: Bringing Her Home

Ethan's POV

As we drove through nearly empty streets, the city lights flickered outside the window. Isabella sat beside me, her face pale and eyes wide with fear.

This reminded me of the first kidnapping. God, what a mess that was. The plan had seemed simple: grab the girl, film a threatening video, then watch Aria cancel her wedding. Simple and straightforward, right? But Isabella was a fighter, kicking and screaming like a wildcat. My men were rougher with her than I had intended.

In the end, I paid those guys to take the fall and go to prison. Took care of their threat without getting myself in trouble. In fact, I never had any intention of letting them hurt Isabella. That was never part of the plan.

From the moment I first saw Isabella, I knew she was different. Her innocence and vulnerability were something I hadn't seen in a long time, but none of that mattered—she was the perfect tool for my revenge against her mother, Aria.

What Aria did to me was unforgivable. She destroyed my family, and now it was time for her to pay. Using her daughter was the ultimate way to make her suffer. Isabella would be my pawn in this game, and I intended to make every moment count. Watching the fear in her eyes gave me an inexplicable satisfaction.

"Please, Ethan," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I don't want any trouble. My mother... she won't care about me."

I glanced at her, my expression cold. "This is the consequence of being Aria's daughter. Your mother crossed a line, and now you must face punishment from me."

She fell silent, her hands trembling in her lap. The tension in the car was palpable, and I could see her eyes darting around, searching for any possible escape. But there was no doubt—she couldn't run.

The car wound up the hillside, and the city lights grew dimmer as we approached my estate. The gates opened silently, and we drove up the long driveway, stopping at the entrance. I got out first, then roughly pulled Isabella from the car.

"Move," I commanded, dragging her toward the door. She stumbled, struggling to keep up, each step filled with fear.

The mansion loomed over us, contrasting sharply with her fragile form. I pushed open the door and led her inside, where the bright lights illuminated her tear-stained face.

In the spacious living room, I forced her to sit on the sofa. She looked around apprehensively, but didn't dare move. Footsteps broke the silence as my grandma, Nora Black, appeared in the doorway.

"Ethan, you're back!" she exclaimed, her eyes bright. "And who is this?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Grandma , it's late. Why aren't you in bed?"

She ignored my question, her gaze fixed on Isabella. "Is she your friend?"

I laughed coldly, without humor. "Just a stray cat I picked up off the street."

A flicker of hope crossed Isabella's eyes, but it quickly vanished as she realized the futility of her situation.

"Grandma, you should head home," I said, signaling to a guard. Her villa was nearby.

Grandma frowned, not moving, looking between Isabella and me. "Ethan, what have you done to this poor girl?"

"Don't worry about it," I replied, my voice firm. "You should be in bed at this hour."

Isabella suddenly stood up and rushed to grandma, falling to her knees. "Please, help me! He's going to hurt me!"

Grandma's eyes widened in shock, her face filled with concern. "Ethan, you can't bring people here and treat them like this. Let her go."

I felt a surge of annoyance. "Grandma, this doesn't concern you. Please go home."

She hesitated before reluctantly allowing the guard to escort her out. As the door closed behind them, Isabella's last hope disappeared.

As soon as Grandma was out of sight, Isabella desperately tried to run. I caught her easily, gripping her arm tightly.

"Where do you think you're going?" I snarled, pulling her back.

"It's the middle of the night," I said, deliberately lowering my voice. "What should we do to pass the time?"

She swallowed hard. I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She knew she was trapped.

When she didn't answer, I ran my finger across her lips, feeling them tremble beneath my touch.

"I wonder how Aria would react if I slept with her precious daughter?"

"Please, Ethan, don't do this," she begged, tears welling in her eyes.

"You know what?" I said, "Seeing you look this pathetic makes me want to torment you even more."

I lifted my wrist, showing the bite mark she'd left earlier. "Look at what you did to me."

"I'm sorry," she stammered, staring at the wound, filled with regret. "I'm really sorry..."

I felt my lips curl into a smile. "Lick it."

Her eyes widened with fear. "No, please..."

"Want to leave this place?" I interrupted, watching hope flash in her eyes before she tried to hide it. Smart girl, but not smart enough.

She went quiet, biting her lip as tears gathered in her eyes. She was actually going to cry.

"If you won't cooperate..." I let my fingers trail down her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under my touch. Her skin was warm and soft. I moved toward her collarbone, enjoying how she froze. "Maybe I should be the one doing the licking. How does that sound?"

Isabella jerked away as if I'd burned her, stumbling backward until she hit my sofa and collapsed onto it.

"Please don't touch me," she said, her voice small but with unexpected resolve. "If you force me, I'll go to the police. They won't let you get away with it."

I couldn't help but laugh. Actually laughed. God, was she serious?

"Darling, the world isn't black and white. There are many shades of gray." I leaned in closer, watching her press herself deeper into my sofa. "Did you really think I brought you here for a chat?"

I planted one arm on the sofa beside her head, trapping her. Her eyes widened with panic as I reached for the buttons on her silk blouse.

"No!" she blurted out, finally breaking. "No, I'll... I'll do it. I'll lick it."

I straightened up and extended my wrist again. She hesitated, those eyes looking at me one last time, searching for mercy. Not a chance.

Her tongue slid across my skin—hot and wet, licking the bite mark she’d left. She moved slowly, almost deliberately, and it hit me hard, making my whole body shudder.

I was losing control. Her submission was supposed to satisfy me, but now? My body was burning and throbbing for her. She kept her eyes tightly shut, her cheeks flushed with deep resentment, leaning against me. Her chest pressed tightly against that flimsy blouse, rising and falling with every ragged breath.

Seeing her forced to submit like this, why did it make me hard? I even wanted to push her down, pin her under me, and take her right then and there. But I held back, letting the torment of her tongue on my skin push me to the edge instead.

Damn. Damn it all.

I yanked my arm away, thrown by my own reaction. This wasn't the plan. She wasn't supposed to affect me like this. She was just a pawn, just Aria's child, nothing more.

"Enough," I managed to say, my voice rougher than intended. "Sit down and be quiet."

I turned away before she could see what was happening. I strode back to the bar and poured another drink, the liquid burning all the way down, but doing nothing to cool the heat in my blood, my desire reluctant to subside.

I downed another glass, then another, trying to erase the memory of her tongue on my skin, the softness of her lips, the warmth of her body. No woman had ever affected me like this. I was always the one in control—always. Yet here I was, at my own bar trying to maintain composure, all because a woman I was supposed to hate had licked my wrist.

"Damn it," I growled, my voice catching in my throat.