Chapter 44 Tell Me What To Do
Isabella’s POV
He looked nervous.
Actually nervous.
Which was almost more unsettling than his usual cold confidence.
Finally, I walked past him toward the elevator.
“Well,” I said over my shoulder, “this better not be a disaster.”
Alexander followed quietly behind me.
“I’m trying very hard to make sure it isn’t.”
The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime.
I stepped inside first.
Alexander came in a second later and pressed the button for the parking level.
The doors closed.
Silence immediately filled the small space.
I kept my eyes forward.
I could feel his gaze on me.
Watching.
Studying.
Waiting.
But I refused to look at him.
My injured hand throbbed faintly under the bandage, the dull pain a constant reminder of exactly who I was standing next to.
The man who had done it.
The man who had looked at me with cold, empty eyes while a knife cut into my skin.
The elevator hummed softly as it descended.
Alexander shifted slightly beside me.
“You look—”
“Don’t.”
The word came out sharper than I intended.
“Stop acting like this is normal.”
His jaw tightened slightly.
“I know it’s not normal.”
“Good,” I said. “At least you understand that part.”
He went quiet immediately.
The elevator continued downward.
My chest felt tight.
I could feel him wanting to speak again.
Wanting to say something.
Anything.
But he didn’t.
The doors finally opened into the underground garage.
I stepped out without looking at him.
He followed.
The garage was quiet except for the echo of our footsteps against the concrete.
His car sat near the elevator — sleek, black, expensive.
Of course it was.
Alexander walked ahead of me and opened the passenger door.
I stared at it for a moment.
I did not say thank you to him, just got in the car.
No warmth.
No smile.
I slid into the seat.
He closed the door gently before walking around to the driver’s side.
A moment later the engine started.
The car rolled smoothly out of the garage and onto the street.
For several minutes neither of us spoke.
The city moved around us — traffic lights, pedestrians, buildings passing by in a blur of motion.
Inside the car, the silence felt heavy.
Alexander glanced at me once.
Then again.
“You don’t have to sit like you’re being taken hostage,” he said quietly.
I stared out the window.
“I kind of am.”
His grip tightened slightly on the steering wheel.
“I’m not forcing you to be here.”
“Yes you did” I said.
“You already did that when you forced me to marry you.”
The words landed between us like a brick.
Alexander didn’t answer.
The car turned onto another street.
More silence.
Then he tried again.
After a few steps he tried again.
“How’s your hand today?”
I turned to him suddenly.
“You really want to talk about my hand?”
His eyes dropped to the bandages again.
“Yes.”
I held it up slightly.
“It hurts.”
He nodded once.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
His expression flickered.
“I—”
“You don’t know,” I repeated.
My voice was sharper now.
“You know why?”
He didn’t answer.
“Because you’re the one who did it.”
The words hung between us, heavy and undeniable.
For a moment the only sound inside the car was the quiet hum of the engine and the faint noise of traffic moving around us.
Alexander exhaled slowly, his fingers tightening slightly on the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I turned my head just enough to look at him.
“I don’t need your apology,” I said flatly. “Just don’t talk to me.”
My voice stayed calm, but the bitterness underneath it was impossible to hide.
“If you need something from me, save it for the cameras.”
The muscles in his shoulders tightened immediately.
“I told you there aren’t going to be any cameras,” he said.
I looked back out the window.
“Sure.”
“It’s not a public appearance.”
His jaw flexed as he repeated it, slower this time.
“I’m taking you somewhere private.”
I shrugged slightly, still watching the city pass by outside the window.
“I don’t believe you.”
That made him glance at me
“You think I’m lying?”
“I think everything you do has a reason,” I said quietly.
“That’s how men like you operate.”
He didn’t deny it.
“It does,” he admitted.
“And?” I asked without looking at him.
“And today the reason is you.”
I let out a small breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
I kept my eyes on the street outside.
“Congratulations.”
Alexander shifted slightly in his seat.
His patience was starting to thin.
“I’m trying to fix this.”
“You can’t.”
“I can try.”
“Trying doesn’t erase what you did.”
“I know.”
“Good.”
Silence filled the car again.
Long.
Heavy.
The kind of silence that made every movement feel louder.
Finally he spoke again.
“Tell me what you want me to do.”
I didn’t answer.
“I mean it,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “What do you want from me?”
Still nothing.
The city lights passed across the windshield as he drove.
He glanced at me again.
“Tell me how to fix this.”
I turned my head slowly and looked at him.
“You really want to know?”
“Yes.”
“Leave me alone.”
The words came out quietly.
But they hit harder than if I had screamed them.
Alexander’s grip tightened around the steering wheel.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
His eyes stayed on the road.
“Because walking away from you isn’t an option.”
I let out a short laugh.
Not because it was funny.
Because the situation was ridiculous.
“I told you what I want,” I said.
“And you just told me no.”
“Yes.”
“So why even ask?”
His mouth tightened slightly.
“I’m not giving up on us.”
That made me laugh again.
This time louder.
Half anger.
Half disbelief.
“When did we become ‘us’?” I asked sharply.
I turned toward him fully now.
“There is no ‘us’, Alexander.”
“Did you forget the contract?”
“Did you forget that I’m supposed to give you a child and then you kick me out after a year?”
“Did you forget the entire reason we’re even in this situation?”
The car slowed as the traffic light ahead turned red.
Alexander stopped the car.
His hands rested on the steering wheel.
Still.
Controlled.
“I didn’t forget any of it,” he said.
“Then what exactly is this ‘us’ you’re talking about?”
For a moment he didn’t answer.
Then the red light painted the inside of the car in a soft glow.
Alexander turned his head slowly and looked at me.
His eyes were darker now.
More intense.
“I’m never letting you go,” he said quietly.
“Never, Isabella.”
The certainty in his voice sent a strange chill through my chest.
“I don’t care about the contract,” he continued.
“I don’t care about the deal.”
“I’m not letting you walk away from me.”
His gaze held mine.
“I’ll make you mine.”
“Forever.”
The light turned green.
But for a moment neither of us moved.
Then I leaned back against the seat and closed my eyes.
“Good luck with that,” I said quietly.
“Because that’s never going to happen.”
“I will never belong to you.”
Alexander didn’t answer.
He simply turned his eyes back to the road and started driving again.