Chapter 1: The Mafia Boss’s Runaway Bride
July in Brooklyn, New York, was oppressively hot and sticky.
"Grandma, you need to keep up with your treatments. I'll be back tomorrow."
Giselle had been at the hospital all day, her skin soaked with the scent of disinfectant.
When she returned to her neighborhood, she was puzzled to see a luxury car parked in her rundown old district.
Upon entering her home, two men in black seized her, one on each side.
"What are you doing!" Giselle screamed, "Help"
Before she could finish, a hood was slipped over her head, silencing her.
After the roar of a helicopter and a dizzying journey, Giselle was pushed off the aircraft, her hood yanked off, making her squint in the bright light.
She found herself under a massive gold-leaf dome, surrounded by Raphael's masterful paintings and pure white wool carpets, the epitome of opulence.
A man of striking and fierce beauty sat on a genuine leather sofa, watching her intently. His shirt collar open, revealing well-defined, tanned muscles, he radiated the power of a predatory leopard. "Come here," he commanded, tapping on his marble table with his index finger.
Giselle remained stationary, eyeing the man warily, like a startled deer.
Noticing her shivering, Henry Jefferson chuckled dryly and turned up the thermostat.
"Too delicate. How have you survived these months on the run?"
"Do I need to physically bring you here?" he asked impatiently as she stood frozen.
Slowly, Giselle approached him, her throat tight, avoiding his gaze.
The tension in the air was palpable, ready to snap at any moment.
Giselle licked her dry lips, "I will not go back with you."
Henry's patience snapped; he grabbed her wrist, pulling her onto his lap, his large hand clasping her neck, the other tilting her chin up to force her to meet his eyes. "Say that again." His voice was laced with a threat.
"I won't-"
Before she could complete her refusal, Henry tightened his grip, pinning her down on the sofa, his body pressing against hers.
The air conditioning blasted cold air, but Giselle's ears and neck felt like they were on fire.
Henry's gaze traced the delicate features of her face, his hand feeling the softness of her neck.
Unable to resist, he pecked at her lips, relishing the long-missed softness that brought him both relaxation and satisfaction.
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He leaned in to kiss her, but Giselle desperately turned her head away; the kiss landed on her neck instead.
This action enraged Henry, and he forcefully captured her lips, leaving Giselle struggling for breath.
"Don't do this...," Giselle, unable to free herself, resorted to stalling, "Let's talk."
"Talk?” Henry sneered, "About your next attempt to flee?"
"Giselle, why not discuss your grandmother's illness? The medical bills are over a million; can you afford that?"
"You! You've been monitoring me!"
Her mother had died early, leaving her grandmother as her only family.
Her grandmother's heart condition had worsened over the years, requiring expensive surgeries almost like buying extra time.
This time the situation was dire; she hadn't yet gathered the funds for the upcoming surgery. If missing the optimal surgery time, even gods couldn't save her.
"Marry me, and the medical bills will be paid immediately. I'll arrange for you to move to the Upper East Side."
"I don't need it!"
Without a second thought, Giselle rejected him outright.
Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on 00005s.org for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading! Rejected again, Henry suddenly calmed, sitting up to inquire, "What's the success rate of the surgery?"
At a regular hospital, the success rate was a mere 10%.
Meaning, her grandmother was likely not to survive the surgery.
Giselle remained silent; Henry continued, "At the NewYork-Presbyterian Hospital, the success rate is 90%."
Giselle clenched her fists.
"I'll arrange the top specialists and facilities," Henry offered, dangling even more tempting conditions.
Giselle trembled slightly, her large doe eyes filled with despair.
Unfortunately for her, Henry's hand began to wander restlessly along her side.
The calloused thumb grazed her soft skin, sending a shiver through her.
Without a reply from her, Henry lost patience, lifting her shirt slightly, his warm, dry hand moving upwards along her side.
Giselle's body shook uncontrollably, although this wasn't the first time something like this had happened, she was still terrified, "Let me go, this is rape!"
Henry pinned her down, his lips on hers muffling her protests, his deep eyes full of possessive desire: "Then go ahead and sue me."