Chapter 6

I tossed and turned all night, Alexander's every word echoing in my mind.

When the morning light filtered through the curtains into the bedroom, I had already formed my plan. Since he wanted to play this game of secret observation, I would give him quite the show.

Alexander rose at seven as usual, hurriedly getting ready before heading downstairs. I heard him preparing coffee in the kitchen, then the sound of the car door closing.

I only got up after confirming he had left and walked toward the walk-in closet.

I needed to find a... special assistant.

Scrolling through my contacts, I stopped at one name: Marco Benedetti. An Italian photographer who had shot my lingerie ads for Vogue. Perfect choice.

He picked up, and that familiar Italian-accented English came through: "Ciao, bella Isadora!"

"Marco, I need you to come to my apartment this afternoon." I deliberately lowered my voice with a hint of seduction, "To shoot some... rather intimate artistic photos."

"Private shooting? Of course, but—"

"Three thousand dollars, cash. Two hours."

Marco's breathing grew heavier: "I'll be there at three this afternoon."

A dangerous smile curved my lips. Alexander, now it's your turn to taste what it's like to see but not touch.

I slowly walked to the closet, my fingers running through those exquisite garments before stopping at a matching La Perla set—the exact same style as the one Alexander had "stolen," but in deep crimson red.

The silk fabric flowed like liquid fire through my fingers, the lace pattern identical to his precious trophy but in a color that screamed defiance. I held it against my body, studying myself in the mirror with a wicked smile.

"You took the black one, didn't you?" I whispered to my reflection, stroking the crimson lace edges. "Let's see how you react to this."

As I slipped off my robe and slowly put on the lingerie set, I deliberately slowed every movement. The silk bra perfectly embraced my breasts, the lace panties hugged my hip line, creating a breathtaking silhouette in the mirror.

I turned toward the vanity mirror, only then "accidentally" noticing the nearly invisible camera in the corner. I had never paid attention to it before, but now that tiny lens seemed so... interesting.

I deliberately bent over toward the camera's direction to arrange my hair, letting the lace at my chest play peek-a-boo. Then I slowly turned around, displaying the perfect curve of my waist and hips.

Are you watching, Alexander? Now you know what unreachable desire feels like.

At exactly three o'clock, the doorbell rang right on time.

When Marco entered with his photography equipment, his eyes immediately lit up. I wore a sheer silk robe, the lace silhouette faintly visible beneath.

"Dio mio..." he couldn't help but murmur, "You look especially beautiful today."

"Thank you." I turned gracefully, the hem of my robe fluttering to deliberately reveal a stretch of snow-white thigh, "We'll shoot in the living room—the light is best there."

Watching Marco quickly set up the lighting and backdrop, I was secretly amused. Professional he was, but he kept stealing glances at me, especially when I bent over to hand him equipment and my robe's neckline slightly parted...

Men are all the same.

"All set." He raised his camera, his voice already somewhat hoarse, "What style are you looking for?"

I slowly untied the robe's belt, letting the silk fabric slide to the floor. The black lace lingerie outlined my perfect body curves, appearing even more seductive under the professional lighting.

I could feel Marco's sharp intake of breath, his camera nearly slipping from his hands.

"I hope these photos..." I deliberately looked toward that hidden camera, my tongue lightly licking my lower lip, my voice carrying dangerous seduction, "will make someone understand what true desire really means."

The flash began firing rapidly.

"Perfetto... arch your back a little..." Marco's voice grew increasingly shaky, "God, you're simply an angel..."

I followed his directions with various alluring positions, deliberately amplifying the seductive effect of every movement. When I knelt on the sofa and looked back with a smile, Marco actually forgot to press the shutter, just staring at me in a daze.

"Marco, do you think I'm beautiful?" I suddenly asked, my voice sweet as honey.

The Italian man set down his camera, the fire in his eyes almost burning through me: "You are not beautiful... you are dangerous."

He slowly approached, those brown eyes filled with naked desire.

"Let me adjust the angle..." His hand lightly caressed my shoulder, fingertips lingering on my collarbone, "Your skin... Madonna mia..."

I didn't pull away; instead, I deliberately let my body move closer. When his hand slid from my shoulder to my waist, I lightly bit my lower lip, letting out an almost inaudible soft moan.

"Like this?" My voice was filled with sweet seduction, my body swaying slightly, letting the lace rub against his palm.

Marco's breathing became rapid, his other hand involuntarily pressing against my back, almost pulling me into his embrace.

"Isadora... do you know what you're doing?" His voice was low like a growl.

"Of course." I laughed softly, looking up at him, then deliberately glanced toward the camera's direction, "I'm teaching someone a lesson."

I knew that at this moment, Alexander, in his company meeting, must be watching all of this through his phone app. Imagining the expression on his face, I almost laughed out loud.

Alexander, what are you feeling right now? Watching another man's hands roaming over the body you've dreamed of—are you going insane?

Just then, the front door burst open.