Rising in Ruins

Some games are best left unplayed

Bella opened her office door and rushed inside. She was angry at Alexander for flirting with her so vividly and concerned about Marco's reaction, which could probably lead him down paths he didn't want to be on.

"I will say it once, and you need to listen to me; they will test you and they will test us. They're going to do psychological warfare to wear us down, and we need to get a hold of ourselves. You need to restrain yourself from Alexander's comments, and I must learn how to dodge him without challenging my luck. What you saw tonight was an exhibition of how much they can make us endure. Be prepared for strong dialogues and affirmations; this is a chessboard; Marco and I will be queen; dethrone them; make them common soldiers, and then kill them."

She took off from her closet a red satin dress that reached the beginning of her hips, hoping to impress Alexander. She needed to be able to wrap him around her fingers and Marco had to endure that. What she wished, though, was that things would shift fast to her advantage because she knew her man one day would lose his patience, and not a continental organization but God himself wouldn't be able to stop him.

He lets out a guttural sound and slams his fist into a wall. "I will not stand idly by while that pathetic wretch so openly flirts with and ogles you! I would rather kill the entire Continental and be damned to hell than let that sleazeball even so much as touch you, Bella." He says watching her. He closes his eyes and replays her words in his mind, breathing deeply to bring himself back into check.

"I will play your game. But only for so long. You are mine. You will be my wife. I love you." He whispers, kissing her and holding her close. "Mine, and only mine." He whispers as he breaks the kiss and begins stripping, finding a nice suit to wear to the dinner. He slicks back his hair and stares at himself in the mirror. "I'm going to need the eyepatch for tonight, I think." He says, looking over at her.

Isabella walked into the dining restaurant, her red satin dress clinging to her curves, exuding confidence and grace. The finest table was waiting for her and Marco, set in a lavish ballroom with crystal chandeliers casting a warm glow over the room. Their guests had already arrived elegantly dressed, exuding an air of power and sophistication. They were both eager, each for a different occasion. Alexander Sinclair couldn't wait to see Bella and hoped an early arrival could buy him some time without Marco present, and Lucien Monet was hoping to have a private conversation with her. His mastery was sneaking out information with delicate manners, and that required from his opponent the element of surprise. As soon as she had the time to think and pause, the game was already lost.

Although their prayer did not pay off, Marco parked their car, and followed behind her. After a few minutes, upon entering, the look of confidence in Alexander started to faint as Lucien frowned, knowing any chance he had to make a smart inquiry was gone. The couple approached the table and sat across from them. The courtesies were made, and a few minutes of casual conversation followed. Bella slipped her hand at Marcos' back, an estimated move with the sole purpose of setting limits for Alexander as she looked directly into his eyes. It was just a glance of two seconds, but it was hostile and warning. Alexander studied her gaze and concluded that she wanted private time with him because, in front of Marco, things would have been difficult, contrary to what Isabella was aiming for.

"Ah, Bella, you truly are a vision tonight," Alexander purred, his gaze sweeping over her in an unmistakably suggestive manner. "That dress, it's as if it was made for you."

Bella maintained her composure, a polite smile on her lips. "Thank you, Alexander. Your words are as charming as always."

Alexander's lips curled into a knowing smirk. "Charming, am I? Well, my dear, I do have a way with words. But I've always wondered if you would prefer men who are not afraid to take risks."