Chapter 130: Mask Party

He leaned down, his broad frame blocking out the light, his head tilting as he closed the small distance between them. His breath was warm against her skin, smelling faintly of mint and dark coffee.

Isabella felt his lips brush the soft air an inch from hers.

Her heart slammed against her ribs like a trapped bird. Instinct took over.. a sudden, frantic spike of self-preservation. She raised her hand fast, her palm slamming firmly against his lips, stopping him dead in his tracks. Her other hand reached up, her fingers gripping his sharp, square jawline to hold him back.

"What do you think you are doing?" she demanded, her voice tight, her dark eyebrows pulling down into a fierce frown.

Aaron froze. His blue eyes flashed with a sudden, dark shock.

For a second, a flicker of genuine offense crossed his face, a powerful man entirely unaccustomed to being stopped by anyone, let alone a woman half his size held firmly in his own house. But as he looked down at her small hand pressed against his mouth, the offense melted straight into a dangerous, slow heat.

He pulled her hand down from his mouth, but he didn’t let go of her wrist. He held it firm, his thumb stroking the fast, heavy pulse beating inside her skin.

"Kissing my woman," Aaron said smoothly, his voice dropping into a low, purring growl. "What does it look like I’m doing?"

"I am not your woman," Isabella shot back, her face burning hot under her makeup. She tried to pull her wrist back, but his grip was like iron. "How many times do we have to go over this? We have an agreement. A contract. My body is completely off-limits, Aaron."

Aaron let out a quiet, dark laugh that vibrated straight into her chest. He leaned in closer, his chest pressing lightly against the front of her dress until there wasn’t a sliver of air left between them.

"Contracts can be renegotiated, Isabella," he murmured, his voice rich and full of dark amusement. "Especially when the terms are this boring."

Isabella gasped, her mind stalling. "What?"

"You hear everything, don’t you?" he whispered, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You can hear how fast your heart is beating right now."

Isabella felt a sudden, terrifying rush of heat shoot straight down between her thighs.

Her inner thoughts panicked, spinning out of control. ’No. Stop it. What is wrong with you?’ She wanted to push him away, she wanted to tell him he was arrogant, insufferable, and crazy, but her body wasn’t listening to her brain. The smell of his cologne was filling up her nose, making her dizzy. Her skin felt electric wherever he touched her.

She hated it. She hated how easily he broke through her walls, how he made her feel hot, flustered, and desperate with just a few words. She had just left a marriage. She was supposed to be independent, safe, and guarded, not standing in an Italian villa letting a dangerous Russian billionaire make her knees weak.

"Your necklace is crooked," Aaron lied softly, his voice thick with fake concern.

Before she could call him out on the lie, his free hand moved around to the back of her waist. His long, warm fingers spread wide over the bare skin of her back, pulling her flush against his hard hips.

Isabella let out a soft, breathless sound, her eyes widening in the dark. The feeling of his warm, dry palm pressed directly onto her bare skin made her spine tingle.

Aaron dipped his head down, pressing his lips not to her mouth, but to the sensitive skin right where her neck met her shoulder. It was a slow, lingering kiss, hot and devastatingly gentle.

"Aaron..." she breathed out, her hands clutching at the dark fabric of his tuxedo jacket just to keep her balance. Her mind was a chaotic mess of forbidden thoughts. ’He’s doing this on purpose. He’s trying to ruin me. Why does he feel so good?’

Aaron smiled against her skin, feeling her entire body go soft in his arms. He knew exactly what he was doing to her. He loved the resistance, loved the way she fought him, because every time she gave in just an inch, the victory felt ten times sweeter. She wasn’t going to make it easy for him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He slid his mouth up her neck, stopping right at her jaw, his breath hot against her skin. "Tell me to stop, Isabella. Say the word."

She opened her mouth, trying to gather enough air to tell him to back off, but her throat felt dry, her whole body hot and heavy with a strange, throbbing ache.

Suddenly, the heavy double doors of the bedroom swung open.

"Sir, the drivers are—"

A guard froze mid-sentence in the doorway, his eyes widening as he caught sight of his boss holding the half-dressed, breathless woman tightly against his chest, his mouth buried in her neck.

Isabella’s senses snapped back with the force of a cold shower.

"Oh!" she gasped, her face turning crimson. She shoved Aaron’s chest with both hands, using every bit of strength she had to push herself back.

Aaron didn’t stumble, but he let her go, turning his head slowly toward the doorway.

The look on Aaron’s face was purely lethal. His blue eyes turned into two ice picks, a dark, terrifying glare fixing on his lieutenant that could have stripped the paint off the walls. A guard visibly swallowed, taking a fast step back into the hallway, his hands raised in immediate surrender.

"I... I apologize, boss," A guard stammered, his voice dropping an octave. "The car is ready. Below." He turned on his heel and practically sprinted down the corridor.

Isabella stood by the bed, her hands pressed over her face, her chest heaving as she tried to pull her shattered composure back together. She was hot, flustered, her skin still burning where his hands had been.

"We... we need to go," she said quickly, her voice high and breathless as she smoothed the front of her skirt with trembling hands. "You said we were late."

Aaron watched her frantic, adorable scrambling with a slow, dark smirk returning to his face. He adjusted his cuffs, completely unbothered by the interruption.

"You’re right," Aaron said, offering her his arm. "We wouldn’t want to keep them waiting."

The drive to the venue took thirty minutes in complete silence, broken only by the steady hum of the engine and the soft rustle of Isabella’s silk dress whenever she shifted in her seat.

When the heavy SUV finally slowed down, turning through massive wrought-iron gates, the sound of classical music and a low, hum of voices echoed through the open windows.

They were parked in front of a massive, ancient castle overlooking the dark waters of the bay. Torches burned in iron sconces along the stone walls, casting flickering shadows over dozens of sleek, million-dollar sports cars lined up along the driveway.

Aaron reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out two delicate, heavy items.

"Here," he said softly, handing one to her.

Isabella reached out, her fingers brushing against smooth, polished leather and cold metal wiring. "A mask?"

"A masquerade," Aaron corrected.

She ran her fingers over the smooth curves of the mask. "For a birthday party?"

"Not just any birthday," Aaron said, reaching over to untie the silk ribbons of her mask and carefully position it over her eyes, tying it snugly behind her head. "It’s the ninetieth birthday of Don Vito Moretti."

Isabella froze, her hands pausing in her lap. Even in her old life in New York, surrounded by corporate lawyers and high-society gossip, the name Moretti was whispered like a ghost story. He was the undisputed patriarch of the oldest mafia dynasty in Southern Europe. A man who held politicians, judges, and shipping magnates in the palm of his hand.

"This is an exclusive event, Isabella," Aaron said, his voice turning serious, grounded. "There are maybe eighty people in that room. Heads of state, old money, and men who control whole continents from the shadows. The masks stay on."

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, her voice dropping into a hush. "This isn’t a normal party."

"Because it’s time people remember who you are standing with," Aaron replied flatly. "The trial is over. Your old life is dead. Tonight, you step back out into the world."

He opened his door and stepped out into the cool night air, walking around to her side. He opened her door, reaching his hand out into the dim light.

Isabella took a long, steady breath. She reached out, placing her hand in his wide, warm palm.

As her high heels hit the cold stone driveway, Aaron pulled her close to his side, his arm sliding around her waist, holding her firm against him. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear over the soft sound of the violin music pouring from the castle doors.

"Stay right beside me," he murmured, his thumb rubbing a slow, reassuring circle against her hip through the green silk. "Don’t let go of my hand."

Isabella nodded slowly, her green eyes hidden behind the dark lace of her mask, her fingers tightening around his as they walked toward the grand entrance together.