Chapter 5: Welcome to My Game

Ivana’s POV

My finger flexed against the trigger of the stolen handgun, my knuckle turning stark white under the red emergency lights.

He was three feet away. No body armor over his chest, no security team blocking my angle, no defensive stance. I could punch a hole straight through his throat before his brain even registered the muzzle flash.

He's going to kill me, my mind screamed. He brought a dozen men to corner me, and now he's closing the trap himself.

Instead, Alfonso casually tilted his head toward the door and gave a tiny, almost imperceptible flick of his wrist.

"Out," he said, his voice flat and quiet. "All of you."

The strike team leader blinked, his jaw dropping in disbelief. "Sir? She’s an elite operative, she’s armed, and she’s already taken down—"

"I won't ask a second time," Alfonso interrupted, not even bothering to glance back at the man.

Without another word of protest, the twelve heavily armed guards snapped their rifles back to their shoulders, turned on their heels, and filed out of the command room like obedient dogs. The glass door slid shut behind them, leaving us in an insanely suffocating silence.

My suspicion spiked straight through the ceiling. I didn't lower my weapon an inch. Why the hell would a mafia boss—a man who had survived three hit attempts this week alone—willingly clear the room to stand completely defenseless in front of an active assassin?

He definitely wasn't stupid…..right?

"You're either arrogant or suicidal," I growled, stepping sideways to keep my back glued to the server rack, my barrel fixed dead center on his chest. "I have a bullet lined up with your heart, Alpha."

Alfonso didn't blink at my words. He didn't raise his hands. In fact, a faint, terrifyingly calm glint of amusement flickered in his dark eyes as he took one slow, deliberate step closer.

"You won't shoot," he murmured, his tone as smooth as silk.

"Try me," I hissed, raising my jaw. "I've killed men for far less than backing me into a corner."

"You shoot me, and the location of your brother dies with me," he said, stopping just out of arm's reach. He folded his arms over his broad chest, towering over me without throwing a single punch. "And despite your fiery reputation, Ivana... you didn't risk your life breaking into a bio-hazard sub-level just to leave empty-handed."

A bitter surge of adrenaline hit my stomach. I hated how easily he read me. I hated that he wasn't yelling, wasn't threatening, and wasn't acting like a man held at gunpoint.

"Why am I alive?" I demanded, my voice dropping into a lethal, low rasp. "Why pull this elaborate, twisted game? If you wanted me dead, you could have let your squad finish it in the hall."

Alfonso looked at me, his gaze scanning my face with an intense focus that made my skin prickle under my suit.

"Because you were never sent here to kill me," he said flatly.

My entire reality cracked right down the middle.

"What?" I choked out, a wave of pure disbelief washing over me. "I spent two days mapping your security routes! I was literally on the gantry taking the shot!"

"You were on the gantry because the Director put a scope in your hands to test your discipline," Alfonso revealed, stepping closer until I could feel the heat radiating off his body. "I had the contract drawn out about three weeks ago. I knew about the open bounty. I knew every single competitor who set foot in the Grand Horizon Plaza tonight."

My heart gave a violent thud against my ribs. "You... you bought the hit?"

"I authorized it," he corrected smoothly, his dark eyes never leaving mine. "I needed to see if the only compatible biological match in the entire eastern hemisphere was as sharp as her file claimed. You bypassed security, neutralized three units, cleared the gantry, and still had the instinct to hunt down information when the trap sprung. You passed."

I stared at him, my brain frantically trying to piece together the terrifying scope of what he was saying. The open bounty, the sudden target change, my brother's reappearance... None of it was a coincidence. It was a perfectly orchestrated filter, and I had walked right into the center of his web.

Alfonso reached into his dark jacket pocket. I instantly tightened my grip on the gun, but he simply pulled out a folder—the final, master copy of the contract—and held it out in the space between us.

"The agency didn't corner you, Ivy. I did," he said, his deep baritone cutting through the hum of the cooling fans. "And now the game is over."

I glared at the leather folder, refusing to touch it. "I don't sign contracts even with guns in my head."

"Then lower the gun," he countered calmly, his gaze unyielding.

He didn't move. He just stood there, looking upsettingly dominant and unshakeable, offering me a path out of the dark maze I had been trapped in for four long years.

"You have one choice, Ivy," Alfonso whispered, the words with a terrifying finality.

"Walk away right now, and lose your brother forever."

He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against my ear as his voice dropped into an intoxicating, dangerous whisper.

"Or sign the contract... and become the mother of my heir.”