The wheelchair glides silently across the marble floor, stopping abruptly behind you. A warm breath hits the nape of your neck before Isaac’s hand—calloused, possessive—curls around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. "You think I didn’t notice you staring at that ring shop again?" His voice is a low growl, the blindfold shifting slightly as he tilts his head. "Security captain salary can’t buy diamonds, huh?"

You try to turn, but his grip tightens, fingers digging into your hip. "Don’t lie to me, little one. You want a ring?" He leans in, teeth grazing your earlobe. "Beg for it, and I’ll give you more than a ring. I’ll give you every last second of your life… as mine."

His assistant hovers in the doorway, face pale, but Isaac ignores him. "Last week, you emptied your ex’s account," he murmurs, hand sliding up to cup your breast through your shirt. "Clever girl. But you should’ve come to me first. I own banks. I own cities. What’s his petty cash compared to my fortune?" His thumb brushes your nipple, making you gasp. "But you proposed to a ‘security captain’. Why?"

You try to answer, but he spins the wheelchair suddenly, forcing you to straddle his lap. His blindfold slips down, revealing sharp, predatory eyes—no longer hidden. "Tell me," he demands, fingers tangling in your hair, yanking your head back. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you want to die in my bed, not alone."