Chapter 5 Kissing The Wrong Son

• The building looked less like a company and more like a ghost in mid-reconstruction. Cement dust clouded the morning air. Scaffolding wrapped the front like a ribcage. A single cracked sign still read RODRIGUEZ ENTERPRISE.
• Izzy stepped out of the car in four-inch heels, blood-red lipstick, and an attitude sharper than a knife. She surveyed the mess and smirked. He's really going all out with my investments, huh?
• Liam was inside, sleeves rolled, hair tied messily at the back, standing over a blueprint like he knew what the hell he was doing.
• “You're early,” he said when she entered.
• “You’re renovating,” she replied, tone unimpressed. “For a company that’s basically a pretty tombstone on the inside, I’d say that’s adorable.”
• He didn’t look up. “We needed a place to work smoothly.”
• “We?” she raised a brow, walking closer, heels clinking against the concrete floor. “Ah yes, the royal we. The ghost of your future empire.”
• Liam sighed. “Can you not?”
• “I could not”, she said, tracing a finger along the dusty blueprint, “but then who would keep you humble?”
• He finally looked up. And regretted it.
• Izzy was dressed in black today. Blazer, no shirt underneath. Neckline a little dangerous. The sliver of skin between the curve of her breasts was enticing. Liam found his eyes staring at it, looking away, and staring back again.
• “You’re staring,” she said firmly.
• “You came here to start something,” he shot back, voice rough.
• “I came here to check progress. And I see some…” Her eyes dropped to the wall behind him, peeling and chipped. “Very… slow movement. Did you plan to renovate this place brick by brick? Or are you hoping pity will fix it?”
• His jaw tensed. “You really are a pain in the ass.”
• She smiled sweetly. “And yet, here you are, married to me.”
• Liam hissed as he crossed his arms, eyes narrowing. “What do you want, Izzy?”
• “To see you,” she said, taking a lazy step forward. “And maybe…” she leaned close, lips ghosting the shell of his ear, “...to remind you you’re not in control.”
• Liam’s breath hitched.
• She straightened, gaze locking with his. “Tell me, do you ever think about your real parents?”
• He blinked. “What? Thomas is my real parent? Did you hit your head on a wall?”
• She tilted her head, lashes fluttering. “I mean… you look nothing like Thomas.”
• He frowned. “I don't think you've met him before?”
• “Three times. On the news, of course. And not once did I see even a shadow of you in him. Strange, isn’t it?” Her tone was syrupy and sweet-like.
• Liam shifted uncomfortably. “What are you getting at?”
• “Nothing.” She shrugged. “Just thinking out loud. Must be all this dust—it makes me… sentimental.”
• He scowled. “Your sarcasm is ass.”
• “Mm.” She walked away, fingers trailing along the edge of his desk. “But I’m much smarter than you, Liam. Daddy Thomas didn't pick up your call when you called, did he? Even when you begged?”
• And then, he snapped.
• “You think you’re untouchable, don’t you?” he muttered, striding forward.
• “No.” She turned, slow and smug. “I know I am.”
• He lunged, not angrily, but with heat, hands aiming to grab her waist, but she sidestepped, letting him trip slightly. She shoved him, hard, back against the desk and then onto the floor.
• “Seriously?” he groaned, his back hitting the concrete. “You shove people for a living?”
• Izzy straddled him before he could sit up, blazer parting ever so slightly. “Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it.”
• He looked up at her, breath short. “What is this?”
• “A mistake,” she said, voice silk-wrapped. “Or the best decision you’ll ever regret.”
• Liam’s hands went to her thighs, trying to push her away, but then paused, hesitating. “You’re out of your mind.”
• She leaned down, lips a breath from his. “And you’re aching.”
• He gritted his teeth.
• “Say it,” she whispered.
• “No.”
• Her tongue flicked over her lip. “Say it.”
• “…Fuck you.”
• She smirked. “Wrong line.”
• Then he grabbed her face, pulled her down, and kissed her. Biting her lips with his teeth and forcing his tongue past hers. She allowed him to explore her mouth, tongues dancing and rolling in rhythm.
• She let him taste power for exactly six seconds before she broke the kiss and pinned his wrists down.
• He tried to follow her mouth. She didn’t let him.
• “Fuck,” he breathed. “That was stupid.”
• She smiled. “You’re the one who kissed me.”
• “You were on top of me.”
• “I’m always on top.” Her voice was low, dangerous. “And don’t forget that.”
• His pupils blew wide.
• Izzy leaned down again, lips grazing his ear.
• “But you liked it, didn’t you? Being beneath me.” Her breath was hot. “All that tension and nowhere to put it.”
• He didn’t answer.
• Her teeth grazed his jaw before she whispered, “You can’t touch me unless I let you.”
• Then she stood, walked off without helping him up, and straightened her blazer like nothing happened.
• He remained on the floor, pulse thudding, arousal and confusion tangled like naked sparking wire.
• Izzy tossed a glance over her shoulder as she walked out the door. “Next time, wear something less… tight.”
• She was gone before he could remember how to speak.