Page 72 of Prince of Vice

As the oak doors close behind him, the room empties out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and the whispers that cling to the air like ghosts. The fate of the man I've come to know so intimately now rests in the hands of twelve strangers.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Isabella

The sterile scent of the windowless conference room hangs heavy in the air as Primo and I wait, a quiet tension settling over us like an invisible shroud. It's been several hours since the jury began its deliberation, and I feel a glimmer of hope. They say that when the jury takes time to decide, it's a good sign for the defense. But still, I keep my hopes in check, trying not to let them run wild.

Lunch has come and gone, the forgotten remnants of our meal discarded into the trash bin in the corner. We've spent these long hours sitting in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. The incessant ticking of the wall clock is the only sound that accompanies our vigil.

Primo suddenly rises from his chair, his tall frame casting a shadow over the polished surface of the conference table. He begins to pace the room, his dark eyes reflecting the anxiety clawing at him from within. I reach out to him, wanting to ease his worry somehow. "I understand your anxiousness, Primo," I say softly, watching as he stops mid-stride.

He turns to me, concern etched into the lines of his face. With a boldness that surprises me, he crosses the room and kneels before me, his strong hands gripping my knees. "Isabella," he murmurs, sincerity lacing his voice, "I am incredibly grateful for everything you've done for me. No matter the outcome, you are a fantastic lawyer, and I'm lucky to have had you by my side throughout this case. I knew you wouldn't take the bait," he murmurs softly, his voice like velvet against my skin. His dark eyes seem to pierce through mine, their depths holding secrets I'm not sure I want to uncover.

I give him a confused look, my brow furrowing in uncertainty. "The bait? What bait are you talking about?"

"The loan sharks," he reveals with a casual shrug, as if it were a mere inconvenience. "I know they offered to absolve you of all your debts if you threw my case."

I stare at him incredulously, my heart thundering in my chest. "You knew? How did you know?"

"I have eyes and ears in a lot of places, my dear Isabella," he replies with a sly grin. "The moment they laid a hand on you, they were under constant surveillance until this trial was over, and I could deal with them without raising suspicion."

Confusion overwhelms me, and I shake my head, my fingers absentmindedly playing with the edge of my blouse. "But, if you knew, why didn't you say anything to me? Ask me ahead of time what I was going to do?"

"Did I need to ask you?" he counters, the corners of his mouth lifting in a knowing smile. "No," he answers for himself, "because I had no doubt in my mind that you would never throw my case."

My breath catches in my throat as his words sink in. "You trusted me that much?" I manage to whisper, my eyes searching his for any hint of deceit.

"Of course," he sighs, his gaze never leaving mine. "I trust you with my life." A pause, and then he adds, almost as an afterthought, "And my heart."

The weight of his confession hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the scent of his cologne that now feels intoxicating. My pulse races, a wild symphony playing beneath my skin, as I consider the implications of his trust and what it means for us. My heart swells with emotion, and I lean forward, wrapping my arms around him. Our lips meet in a tender kiss that quickly deepens, our tongues dancing together in a passionate exchange.

The tension in the room is palpable, and as Primo's hands roam my body, I shiver with anticipation. "Maybe we shouldn't be doing this here," I whisper, glancing around the empty conference room, my heart pounding in my chest. "We could be caught."

"Ah, Isabella," he breathes against my ear, his lips sending a shudder down my spine. "That's what makes it so exciting, don't you think? Besides," he says, his fingers tracing the curve of my hip, causing me to feel a surge of desire for him, "what more can they really do to punish me at this point? Can I continue?" he asks, his voice low and filled with promise.

My hesitation dissolves, and I nod, eager to submit to him once more. I want him to give me everything he has, even if it may be the last time.

"Alright," he says, his eyes darkening with determination. "I'll do what I can within reason, given our setting. But don't worry, there will be plenty of time for us to explore further in the future." The hope that ignites in my chest at his words is unexpected and powerful.

"Show me what you have in mind," I challenge him, feeling bolder now. He smirks and pulls back, looking me up and down as if appraising a prized possession.

"Today, I want to do things to you instead of giving commands," he tells me, his eyes flicking over my face, searching for any signs of discomfort. "If you want to be my good girl, you should be my little fuck pet—happy and waiting for anything I decide to give you." He reminds me of the stoplight system, and I nod in understanding, grateful for the safety measures he's put in place.

Primo doesn't remove my clothing, but rather opens my blouse and hikes up my skirt, pulling my bra down to expose my breasts and pulling my panties aside to reveal my pussy. I'm still fully clothed, but this somehow feels even more intense, as if he's stripping away not just the fabric, but the layers of pretense that separate us.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, his gaze traveling over my exposed skin. The vulnerability I feel is exhilarating, and I can hardly contain my desire for him.

"Please, Primo," I beg, my voice barely audible. "I need you."

"Patience, my love," he whispers, his fingers brushing against my collarbone, making me shiver with anticipation. "We have all the time in the world."

Primo sits me up on the table, my legs dangling over the edge, and gazes at me with a wicked smile. His fingers trace my skin, starting from my collarbone down to my chest, deliberately avoiding my nipples. The sensation sends shivers coursing through my body, making me squirm in anticipation.

"Tell me what you want," he teases, his voice low and sultry. "I want to hear you say it."

"Touch me, Primo," I plead, desperate for the feel of him on my skin. "Please, I need it."

He chuckles softly, enjoying my desperation. "I want to see just how hard I can make them before I finally get to torture them properly," he says, looking directly into my eyes as he speaks.