Page 43 of Prince of Vice

"Is there anything I can do to help?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

"Unfortunately, no," I sigh. "But I appreciate the offer." Running my fingers through my hair, I continue, "The issue is that Constantino is obviously making moves behind my back. It's threatening my control and status, opening doors for other families. Plus, I haven't even seen Giovanni lately. I'm not sure what he's been up to since he got back from Miami."

"Tell me about Miami," Isabella says, her eyes searching mine for answers.

"Okay," I concede, knowing that she deserves the truth. "It was the first time I tried to handle the situation with Axe. But then Giovanni showed up at the scene, which was completely unexpected." As I recount the events, Isabella listens intently, her eyes never leaving mine. "The leader of the main Cuban gang was there, and he brought his daughter along. The whole situation was...odd."

"Odd how?" she asks, curiosity piqued.

"Things went south quickly. The cops appeared, and during the chaos, the girl got shot. Giovanni ended up taking her under his protection because her father was arrested."

"Where are they now?" Isabella wonders aloud.

"I thought they were living here at the mansion," I say, glancing around the room. "But I haven't seen either of them since that first day you met my brothers. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Constantino, either."

A heavy silence falls over us, punctuated only by the ticking of an ornate clock on the wall. Isabella's fingers absentmindedly trace patterns on the polished surface of the desk as she processes the information I've shared.

Isabella sighs, her breath warm and heavy against my skin. "This is a very difficult situation," she says, idly tracing the curve of my jaw with one delicate fingertip. "I know there's not much I can do to help you on the business side of things, but I want to be here for you. What helps you relax when you're so stressed?"

Her question catches me off guard, and I feel myself flush beneath her gentle touch. I think about my darkest sexual desires – the ones I've only ever allowed myself to explore with faceless, nameless submissives online. I've given Isabella a taste of what I'm capable of, but I worry that sharing the full extent of my desires might drive her away.

"Whatever you're thinking, Primo," she murmurs, her green eyes searching mine. "You should share it with me."

I swallow hard, my heart pounding in my chest. "I...I have deep, dark desires. Desires centered around domination." The words hang heavy in the air between us, and I brace myself for her reaction.

Isabella's gaze doesn't waver. "I suspected as much," she admits softly. "After the few times we've been intimate, I looked into it. I don't know much about it yet, and I never imagined that I would be into this sort of thing, but I really am intrigued. I'd be open to exploring it more with you."

"Really?" The relief that floods through me is palpable, and I struggle to keep my voice steady. "I never thought I could share this side of myself with anyone."

"Primo," she whispers, her fingers brushing against the nape of my neck. "I'm always expected to be in control, to be in charge. In my line of work, if I make a mistake, my clients pay the consequences. It’s a lot of pressure. Not to mention the added responsibility of my father’s debts on my head. With you, it feels nice to let go, to submit, to let you tell me exactly what you want. I…trust you."

Her words wrap around me like a warm embrace, and I marvel at the depth of our connection. The relief I feel is a tidal wave, crashing over me and leaving me breathless. Excitement mingles with the newfound hope inside of me, as I realize that Isabella is open to exploring this hidden part of myself with her.

"Isabella," I begin, my voice shaky yet laced with anticipation, "what we're talking about here is beginning a dynamic."

She tilts her head to the side, her curiosity piqued. "A dynamic? What does that mean?"

"It's a negotiated relationship between a dominant and a submissive," I explain, watching her eyes widen in understanding. "But we need to approach it slowly, so you don't experience something called 'sub frenzy.'"

"Sub frenzy?" she repeats, confusion etched on her delicate features.

"Yes," I nod, trying to find the right words to describe it. "It's when a new submissive becomes overwhelmed by the excitement of a new dynamic, and they might agree to do things they don't actually feel comfortable doing. It's important that we take our time and communicate openly."

Isabella nods thoughtfully, absorbing my words. "I understand. I promise I'll be careful, and we'll take it as slow as we need to."

Her sincerity warms my heart, and I reach out to take her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Satisfied with our conversation, I turn to my computer and print out a document, handing it over to her.

"This is an exhaustive list of sexual preferences," I inform her. "Fill it out, and tomorrow evening we can discuss it in more detail and negotiate a scene for us to explore together."

"Thank you," she says, clutching the papers to her chest. Her eyes sparkle with excitement, but she hesitates before continuing. "As much as I am eager to delve into this with you, I need to return home for the evening."

"Home?" I frown, disappointment settling in my chest. "Why? Are your accommodations here not adequate?"

"Of course they are," she reassures me. "But I haven't been home in several days, and I just... I miss my own bed."

I try to hide my discontent, but it's difficult. The thought of her presence filling the mansion has become a comfort to me. Reluctantly, I concede and walk her to her car.

The night air is cool on my skin as we step outside, the stars sparkling brightly above us. I open the car door for her, watching as she places her files and the list of preferences inside. She gives me a grateful smile before turning toward the driver's seat.

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