Chapter 553

Isabella's breath hitched as the memory of that fateful auction night flashed through her mind.

The alley seemed to shrink around her when she recognized the sleek Rolls-Royce blocking her path.

Dominic Powell. Here. Now.

Her pulse pounded like a trapped bird against her ribs.

The one-way alley offered no escape except past that ominous vehicle.

As she approached reluctantly, the car door slid open with a whisper of luxury leather.

Dominic's sharp gaze immediately zeroed in on the fading red mark marring her cheek.

"Who dared lay hands on you?" His voice carried dangerous undertones.

Isabella blinked in surprise. Since when did Dominic care about her wellbeing?

Then realization dawned - she was still technically his fiancée. That bracelet on her wrist proved it.

Hitting her was akin to slapping Dominic Powell's pride.

"Vanessa Hart," she admitted quietly.

Dominic's eyes darkened to stormy depths. "Is that so?"

A shiver ran down Isabella's spine at his tone. "I never expected her to be so... bold."

Tears pricked at her eyes, though she couldn't decipher Dominic's expression.

She had more pressing concerns than reading his moods. "If we're done here, I should go."

"Did I say you could leave?" Dominic's voice turned glacial. "Turn around."

The command froze her in place.

When she pivoted, she found Dominic studying the mark on her cheek with unsettling intensity, his chin propped on one hand.

"Such delicate little hands," he murmured.

Isabella gaped.

Was this madman actually admiring the handprint Vanessa left?

Only Dominic Powell would find beauty in violence.

Despite his eccentricities, she couldn't deny the warmth spreading through her chest.

Here he was, seeking her out after she'd been wronged, finding twisted ways to comfort her.

Perhaps there was method to his madness after all.

Beneath his piercing stare, she gathered her courage. "Satisfied? Your fiancée was assaulted. Will you just stand by?"

One dark brow arched. "And?"

"If you truly care for me, help me make Vanessa pay."

Dominic's lips curled into something between a smile and a sneer. "Care for you? Seek vengeance?"

Isabella pressed on, playing her cards carefully. "I may have considered breaking our engagement... but if you protect me now, I'd reconsider."

The lie slipped easily from her lips.

Marry Dominic Powell? Never. No amount of handsome features could compensate for his mercurial nature.

But desperate times called for empty promises.

Dominic's sudden laugh sent chills down her spine. His icy amusement was more terrifying than anger.

"Tell me, darling," he purred, "how exactly should I punish this Vanessa?"

Isabella's confidence grew. Clearly, he wanted to impress her.

She needed to maintain her image - not appear too vindictive.

Dominic's smirk turned predatory. "That's all?"