Chapter 7 Control and confession

"You're late."

Alexandro's voice was a controlled storm, low and clipped, as soon as Kylie slid into the passenger seat of the shiny black Mercedes. The air inside smelled of new leather and cold tension.

Kylie raised a brow at him, already annoyed. It had only been seconds, and she could feel her patience starting to wear thin. Could she actually pull this off? Could she survive one night-just one-with this man?

"Can you just drive?" she fired back.

But Alexandro didn't start the engine. He just stared at her, eyes sharp, jaw set. The silence that followed wasn't quiet-it was loaded, like the pause before lightning strikes.

Kylie crossed her arms, feeling her pulse start to race. "Seriously, what is your problem?"

"You said six-thirty," he said, voice like ice. "It's seven-fifteen."

"I didn't realize you were timing me with a stopwatch." Her tone dripped with sarcasm. "Sorry if I was busy dodging paparazzi on the way out of the building."

"You were supposed to be ready."

"And you were supposed to be less of a-" she bit her tongue. "Never mind. Just drive."

Still, he didn't move.

The staring contest continued for another long, excruciating beat. Then, with a sharp breath through his nose, Alexandro finally turned the key. The engine hummed to life, and the Mercedes pulled away from the curb and into the glowing night.

The silence stretched thick between them as the city lights bled across the windows. Traffic murmured in the distance, but inside the car, it was like a vacuum. Kylie stared out the window, determined not to look at him, not to say another word.

But of course, he broke first.

"You shouldn't have worn that dress."

Her head whipped around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

"And what exactly is wrong with my dress?"

"It's distracting," he muttered, eyes still on the road.

Kylie let out a dry laugh. "Distracting? To who?"

"Everyone. Men stare at you."

She blinked. "Wow. That's... not my problem."

He didn't answer. His grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white.

"You're serious," she said, stunned. "You're actually serious right now."

"People are watching you," he said, voice taut. "And you don't know what they're capable of."

"Oh, please. Don't make this about safety. This is about control."

"No," he snapped. "This is about me trying to protect you. You have no idea what it's like being linked to me. The second you're seen with me, you become a target."

"And you think a longer hemline will change that?"

"It's a start."

Kylie shook her head in disbelief. "Unbelievable. You don't get to tell me what to wear just because you're insecure."

He turned to her sharply, a flicker of something raw in his eyes. "Insecure? You think that's what this is?"

She didn't answer. The way he looked at her-it wasn't insecurity. It was something darker. Possessiveness, maybe. Fear. But he would never say that aloud.

For a few minutes, neither of them spoke. The only sound was the rhythmic swish of tires on asphalt and the faint beat of a classical instrumental playing low through the speakers.

Kylie glanced at him from the corner of her eye. His jaw was clenched tight, and the muscle there twitched.

"You know," she said quietly, "you could just admit you care."

Alexandro didn't look at her. "That's not the point."

"No," she said, "it really is."

The Mercedes pulled into an underground garage beneath one of the tallest buildings in the city. Sleek, black, and intimidating-just like its owner.

When the car stopped, Kylie hesitated. "Why are we here?"

Alexandro cut the engine and stepped out. He didn't answer until he opened her door and looked down at her.

"Because if we're going to keep doing this... whatever this is... you need to know what you're getting into."

She narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Come upstairs. I'll show you."

Kylie followed him, heels clicking sharply against polished concrete as they stepped into a private elevator. He swiped a key card, and the elevator ascended in smooth, silent motion.

She stood on the opposite side of the lift, arms folded, refusing to ask questions.

When the doors opened, they stepped into the penthouse-sleek floors, steel fixtures, floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the entire city. It was cold, modern, beautiful... but lonely.

Alexandro walked over to the bar and poured himself a glass of something dark and strong. "Sit down."

"I'm not a dog," Kylie said, remaining by the door.

He exhaled, rubbing a hand over his face. "This isn't about dominance, Kylie. It's about honesty."

"Then be honest."

He took a long sip before turning to face her. "You want to understand why I act the way I do? Why I guard my life like a fortress? Fine. Here's the truth."

She waited.

"My last relationship ended with her being followed for weeks," he said. "Paparazzi, business rivals, even people looking to blackmail me. She got scared. She left."

Kylie blinked, taken aback.

Alexandro set the glass down. "I'm not saying it to scare you. I just need you to know what you're walking into."

Kylie stepped forward slowly, her voice softer now. "And what exactly am I walking into?"

He looked at her. Really looked at her.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't want to push you away... and I don't want to ruin you either."

Something shifted between them. The tension eased, but the weight of reality took its place.

Kylie walked over, meeting his eyes. "Then stop trying to control me. Let me decide what I can handle."

He studied her for a long moment, then gave a faint nod.

"Okay."

Just that one word-but it felt like the first brick being pulled from the wall between them.