Chapter Fifty Five

Isa gripped the handle of her handbag so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her feet dragged along the tiled street, her head bowed, eyes fixed on the ground. Though her eyes were red, no tears came. Her face was scrunched, lips pressed into a thin line, as if every part of her fought to stay composed.

The estate road was empty and quiet, yet Isa hardly noticed. A car horn blared behind her. She didn’t look back. She kept dragging her feet, shoulders tense, her hands squeezing the handbag handle over and over. The horn sounded again—louder, sharper—before the car sped forward, screeching to a stop in front of her.

The sound jolted Isa out of her thoughts. She stumbled back, her eyes searching the car as the door swung open. Her breath caught when Alex stepped out.

She took another step back, fists clenching and unclenching against her handbag. When their eyes met, she quickly looked away, memories of that morning flooding her mind.

When she had confronted Chris in his office, he hadn’t said a word. She had left, burning with shame, convinced he saw her as nothing but a nuisance. Yet her body betrayed her—still remembering the night they had shared.

“I hate to see you cry,” he had told her, sincerity flickering in his eyes. Isa had sensed he was pushing her away for a reason, but she never knew why.

Then Alex’s words came back to her like knives.

“He’s dangerous! He’ll only bring you pain, Isa. He’s only using you!”

She looked up at Alex, face pale, voice trembling.

“Explain better. What do you mean Chris’s family died because—”

“Aren’t you tired?” Alex cut her off coolly, stepping closer until his breath brushed her cheek. Isa pressed her lips together, trying to retreat, but he suddenly wrapped his arms around her waist and yanked her against his chest.

Isa’s breath splintered. She froze. Her gaze locked on him. His stare burned into hers, his forehead furrowed with something darker than anger.

She whimpered when his grip tightened. His body radiated not desire but fury. She pressed her fists against his chest, struggling to push him away, but he only dragged her closer.

“He treats you like nothing, yet you still care about him,” Alex sneered. “Are you a fool?”

“Let me go! My relationship is none of your business. You don’t know anything!” Isa spat.

Alex gave a low, chilling laugh that made her skin crawl. His grip crushed tighter around her waist until she could hardly breathe and her shirt bit into her skin. This wasn’t the Alex she knew. Not the gentle man with the soft smile, calm aura, and quiet voice. The man before her wore a mask of cruelty, his lips twisted in a sinister smile, his eyes gleaming with secrets.

She felt trapped, as if sealed inside a glass jar with no air. Beads of sweat slid down her forehead while the air thickened and grew hotter.

“Pl-please…” she whispered.

“Do you even feel sorry for rejecting me, Isa?” His voice softened, almost like a breeze—yet laced with venom.

He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a cold touch that made her shiver as though pricked by thorns. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair as he leaned closer.

“I gave Chris a chance with you once,” he whispered. “But not anymore.”

Isa’s lips trembled, her tongue dry and bitter. Then his hand cupped her neck, and his lips crashed against hers.

Cold shot through her veins, locking her body in shock. Then his mouth crushed hers again, rougher this time. A strangled sound clawed its way out of her mouth, and she struggled, only for him to clamp her tighter, forcing his mouth on hers while his other hand slid down her back.

He shoved her against the car, caging her with one arm braced beside her head. Isa’s chest heaved as panic clawed at her.

“Alex, st—”

He silenced her with another bruising kiss, biting at her lips, pressing his body harder against hers. His mouth dragged to her ear, then her neck.

“Please, Alex,” Isa cried, fists pounding weakly against his chest. “Please stop!”

She swore she might die if this went on. The world tilted, and her mind screamed to run—but her body betrayed her, rigid as stone.

Suddenly, he tore his mouth away, grabbed her wrist, and yanked her forward. Isa stumbled, nearly falling, as he flung open the car door.

“You’re coming with me.”

“What?” she cried, ripping her wrist free. “What do you want from me? Just leave me alone!” She tried to step back, but her knees buckled.

But Alex seized her again. “You’re coming. Now.”

She thrashed in his grip, but his strength overpowered her. Just as he bent to scoop her into the car, tires shrieked. Headlights exploded across the street in a blinding white glare, forcing them both to shield their eyes. When the glare cleared, Chris stood framed in the doorway of the car, eyes locked on Alex’s hand gripping her wrist.

Alex’s grip tightened cruelly. Isa yelped in pain. She glanced at Chris, panic rising in her chest. If Chris saw this, if he believed Alex—no, no…

“You have Alex,” she recalled Chris’ word. “You love him.”

Heat crawled up her neck, and she shook her head frantically. “It’s not what you think. Alex is—”

“Let her go, Alex,” Chris said coldly.

The air stilled. Alex tilted his head, lips curling into a sly smile. Chris’ jaw clenched, his fists balled at his sides, his gaze sharp as ice.

Isa’s breath snagged as the tension crackled like a storm about to break. Sweat trickled down her back. Alex only tightened his hold on her, as if using her to anchor himself.

Isa clawed at his hand, sobbing, desperate.

Chris stepped closer, eyes glistening with unshed tears. He looked at Alex, his eyes searching Alex’s, as though finally seeing the man’s true face.

“Don’t tell me…” his voice cracked, “You told Isa about me?”

Alex smirked. “And what if I did?”

Thanks for reading, and I would appreciate your comments or reactions on this chapter. I’ve finally completed Flame on my s, so updates will be fast this week. Just know—we’re reaching the end of Flame Journey this week.