Page 4 of All’s Fair In Love & War (The Bulgari Cartel #2)

Felicity didn’t trust softness, especially not when it came from me.

To her, my kindness had to be manipulation, and anything that felt good came with a hidden price tag.

So I adjusted my approach, not out of cruelty, but out of necessity.

If I wanted her to listen, to really hear me, I had to speak a language she understood.

Power. Control. Command.

I never wanted to dominate her. Not completely.

All I wanted was balance. However, she needed to know that I could match her blow for blow, meet her fire with my own, and still make space for whatever softness she didn’t believe in yet.

Because beneath all that heat, all that attitude, was a woman who had never been protected without strings attached.

A woman who had never been claimed without being owned.

Yet, tonight, I wouldn’t strive to own her.

Felicity needed to experience total domination.

As we moved, I could feel her glare between my shoulder blades. It burned like a branding iron on bare skin. She stalled again as I guided her past the coffee table, the heels of her feet digging lightly into the rug, just enough to signal defiance.

I didn’t say a word. Instead, I wrapped the chain twice around my hand and yanked. Not rough enough to hurt, but firm enough to remind her who was in control.

Her body lurched forward with an unexpected gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. One hand shot up instinctively to steady herself against my back. I felt the subtle tremor in her fingers as they made contact with my spine. It was a fleeting shiver that seemed to echo her momentary shock.

“Keep up,” I said, my tone even, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction.

She huffed, straightening immediately, shoulders squared like she hadn’t just nearly lost her balance, but she didn’t fight me, at least not out loud.

Instead, she let me lead her past the spread laid out across the table, and I didn’t miss the way she avoided looking at any of it.

Her attention was fixed ahead, chin high, curls bouncing against her bare shoulders.

I felt the heat coming off her and saw the way her thighs pressed together when she moved. She attempted to disregard it, to refuse to acknowledge that the pressure, the control, and the restraint she couldn't shake off made her body respond before her pride had a chance to intervene.

“Right now, there’s something we need to get straight,” I said, moving us further along. “You might not like me, but you will respect me. Now keep up, and don’t make me yank that chain again.”

She didn’t answer, but the color in her cheeks deepened, and the way her breath hitched again told me everything I needed to know.

Felicity wanted to be dominated, but her defiance wouldn’t allow her to let go.

She hated that her body liked this.

And I loved that she hated it.

As we arrived at the center of the room, I halted my steps, but Felicity continued onward, shoulder brushing against mine with an unmistakable intention. Afterward, she attempted to swerve to the side out of my way, but I didn’t let her.

One sharp yank of the chain, and she gasped, stumbling back into place behind me, one hand flying to her throat.

There wasn’t pain in her eyes, not even fear.

It was something else entirely. The flush that spread over her cheeks wasn’t from anger.

It was all heat, baby. She knew it, and I knew it too.

"What did I say?" I murmured, not turning around, my tone even but thick with warning. “You think this shit is a game? The nerve of you to walk in here dressed like a hoe, thinking you were calling shots. Nah.” I scoffed, shaking my head at her ignorance. “You fucked with the wrong one tonight.”

“Humph.” She crossed her arms over her breasts. “I don’t understand why you’re so angry. I wore what you told me to. You didn’t say I had to cover up,” she shot back with a haughty air in her tone.

“That’s what you got from that?” I turned to face her, stepping in close. “I give you a necklace, and you show up for dinner damn near naked. Cut the bullshit, Felicity. You didn’t do that because you were following instructions. You wanted to provoke me.”

“Is it working?” Her mouth twitched as if she were trying to prevent a smirk.

Stepping forward, I backed her toward the console table until she had nowhere to go. One hand slid up the chain to the clasp of the choker, fingers brushing her throat.

“Get this through your head right now. I don’t need your body. If I wanted that, I could’ve taken it the night I brought you here.”

She scoffed. “And what do you think dragging me around on a leash proves?”

“Everything. It’s time you find out who sets the rules here.”

Her pupils flared, and I saw confusion, heat, and defiance all tangled together in her expression.

“I’m not scared of you,” she whispered defiantly.

“You should be,” I said, close enough for her to feel the weight behind every word. “Not because I’ll hurt you, but because I don’t play fair, and I don’t lose.”

She tried to push past me, but I pulled the leash tight, forcing her to pause her steps.

“Let go,” she snapped.

“Say please.”

She bared her teeth. “Fuck you.”

I watched her with steady eyes as she stood there defiant, beautiful, and so goddamn unaware of what she’d just cost herself. The flicker of candlelight danced across her skin, highlighting the curve of her jaw and the tremble in her lip, which she didn’t think I noticed.

I yanked the chain hard, and she stumbled as she tried to find footing, but I didn’t give her time. I turned without a word and dragged her behind me, the soft click of the collar echoing in the silence. The spread on the table? Forgotten. My appetite? Gone. She ruined dinner.

“Khalil—”

“Don’t speak.” I cut her off without raising my voice.

I didn’t need to. The sharpness in my tone did the work. She went quiet, but I could feel her pulse through the tension in the chain, quick and unsure. Her silence was loud as I led her to the exit on the opposite side of the living room and turned down the hallway.

I stopped at the last door, opened it, and walked inside. She hesitated, but another tug made her follow.

The room was enveloped in muted light, the chilling air brushing against our skin as shadows danced along the walls.

In the center stood a solitary padded bench, its surface smooth and inviting, while directly opposite loomed a full-length mirror, reflecting the scene with stark clarity.

There were no distractions to divert attention.

It was just her, me, and the undeniable truth that lingered in the stillness.

“Where are we?” she asked, her voice quivering as she glanced around the dimly lit room.

“I said, don’t speak.”

When the door clicked shut behind us, she didn't move, yet her body reacted. I reached behind her, wound the chain around my fist, and pulled her to me as the metal bit into my palm, grounding me.

"All I tried to do was feed you, but I see you don’t like to eat," I said as I ran my fingers through her hair, my pulse hammering against my throat, betraying the steady control I forced into my words.

"I tried to be nice, to be civil, but you’re taking my kindness for a weakness, and I don't reward tantrums."

Felicity’s shoulders curled inward like a bird folding its wings, trying to conceal what I could clearly see.

Her breath hitched slightly as my thumb gently brushed the chain at her throat.

Despite my intentions, my touch remained soft as my finger traced slowly along her jaw, and when she didn't retreat, I realized she sensed the shift in power.

Leaning in, I dropped my voice to a whisper, my lips brushing the shell of her ear. "Be still, and look at yourself in that mirror. You need to witness everything that happens when you make me lose my appetite."

Her lips parted, and for a moment, I thought she’d throw another barb at me, but the words stayed stuck in her throat and died there.

She looked at herself in the mirror, arms crossed over the scraps of fabric that barely qualified as a bikini, her chest quickly rising and falling with each breath.

Every part of her body seemed to resist, but her eyes were honest in a way her mouth never could be.

She was cautious, hungry, and beneath it all, desperate for something she’d never admit out loud.

For a moment, I just watched her. Let her see herself, and see me watching her.

The silence grew tense and strange. It was a power struggle, sure, but there was also a kinship in it.

We were two wild animals sniffing each other out, and for the first time, I sensed that Felicity didn’t honestly know what winning looked like.

I walked a slow circle around her, letting the chain play out and drag warmth into my palm. Her eyes tracked me in the reflection, wary but glued to the action like she was waiting for me to strike.

“You know what your problem is?” I asked, coming to stop right behind her. My chest brushed her back, heat pooling between us. “You think if you act reckless enough, I won’t notice how scared you are.”

“I’m not scared of you,” she snapped, though the stiffening of her body gave her away.

I slipped my hand to her waist, steadying her. She went taut beneath my grip, but I didn’t squeeze. I just rested there.

"You had every opportunity to fight, scream, run, or cause a scene, but you didn’t.

Instead, you put on the necklace because I told you to.

From where I stand, that looks nothing like defiance and more like obedience, whether you care to admit it or not.

And that’s what’s got you pissed, right?

” I murmured. “Not the chain, the collar, or even me. You’re mad that you don’t hate how much control I have over you. ”

I turned her slightly, guiding her by the waist until she was angled toward the mirror.

Her reflection stared back, flushed, shaken, and undone in a way she hadn’t planned for.

And me, I stood behind her, eager to elicit a punishment she wouldn’t be too proud to beg for.

The kind she’d pretend to hate until it made her knees shake and her pride crack wide open.

“You wanna test me? Go ahead. Move. Say something slick. Give me a reason to make this hurt first.” I brushed her hair over one shoulder, exposing the line of her neck, and this time she flinched as she mashed her lips together.

“Hmm. What’s the matter? Don’t get quiet now. I know you feel that,” I said, voice low and steady.

“Feel what?” she asked breathily.

“That tight little knot in your stomach? That’s not fear, baby. That’s anticipation.”

Her jaw locked, lips pressed in a thin, unmoved line, a clear sign that she was losing the last of her resolve. She remained silent, and I let the quiet linger, allowing the gravity of the moment to envelop her, pressing into every inch of her skin that she had desperately tried to numb.

My hand slid higher, fingers teasing just below the band of her top, and she didn’t stop me. She stood there, frozen, furious, and aching, and let me look. Let me touch. Let me own the space between us.

“You want to keep pretending the attraction is one-sided, fine. Lie to yourself if that helps you sleep, but you’re gonna stand right here until I’m done with you.”

Her eyes snapped to mine in the mirror, wide with tension that came before a scream or a moan, and I hadn’t even started yet.

I tightened the chain around my fist.

“Now be a good girl… and don’t move.”

She didn’t answer, just stared at me with those wide, defiant eyes.

Fuck, she was beautiful when she was scared.

I yanked the leash again, forcing her to arch her back, her ass pressing against my dick.

I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of my pants, and it took everything in me not to rip her panties off her right then and there.

“What are you doing? I thought you said you don’t need my body?” she asked, her voice quivering with lust.

“I don’t—but you offered it, now it’s time to pay up,” I replied, calling her bluff.

I didn’t need her body. That much was true.

I had no shortage of women willing to please me, and no hunger that couldn’t be satisfied elsewhere.

This moment wasn’t about pleasure. It was about control.

She had tested boundaries, and I didn’t tolerate being pushed, so it was time for her to learn what obedience looked like under my terms.

“Now, before I slut you out the way you seem to prefer, you’d do well to remember, every inch of you belongs to me, and when you fuck up, I’m the one who decides how you pay for it."

I grabbed a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back until she was looking up at me. Her lips were trembling, but she didn’t make a sound.

Fuck, I loved how she let me handle her without breaking.

"You won’t get my dick tonight. When I finally fuck you, it’ll be because you earned it," I said, my voice laced with venom. "You’re going to beg for my forgiveness, and for the privilege of being fucked by me." I released her hair and stepped back, the leash still tight in my hand.

"On your knees."

For a second, she didn’t move. Her eyes stayed locked on mine, chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Then—slowly, gracefully—she sank to the floor, her hands gliding down my thighs for balance like a woman choosing to kneel, not being forced to.

She didn’t speak, but the way she looked up at me—lashes low, lips slightly parted—made my dick twitch with anticipation. Her hands stayed on my thighs, soft and obedient, and when she whispered, "Like this?" with her voice drenched in submission, I believed her.

I fucking believed her.