Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights

As soon as Giselle had finished changing, Megan Shaw rushed over to greet her with a playful grin. "Giselle, did Henry drag you back here again?"

With a helpless nod and a heavy sigh, Giselle acknowledged her situation.

Megan was more than just a friend; she was Giselle's confidante, a companion since childhood, and even a classmate through university. She was privy to all of Giselle's deepest secrets.

"He's certainly tenacious," Megan teased, a smirk playing on her lips. "Why not just surrender to him? After all, Henry is even more handsome than those movie stars, not to mention his wealth and immense power. You wouldn't be at a loss staying by his side."

"How could I possibly agree to that?!"

Giselle was quick to clarify, "It's just a novelty for him. Once he's had his fill, he'll discard me just as easily. What then?"

"You have a point," Megan conceded.

"I need to forge my own path. I refuse to be just another woman in his shadow. I must build my own strength."

"I'm with you all the way!" Suddenly remembering something, Megan fumbled in her bag and pulled out a small medicine box.

Handing it to Giselle, she said, "You're running low on meds, right? I've got new ones here, cleverly disguised in a painkiller box to keep them hidden."

Giselle glanced around. They were in the backstage dressing room, safe from the prying eYatess of any bodyguards.

Quickly, she stashed the medicine in a hidden compartment of her bag. "Thank you so much, Megan." Lately, Henry Jefferson had been monitoring her so closely, she had found it nearly impossible to replenish her supplies. "It's almost showtime for you," Megan reminded her.

Leaving the dressing room, Giselle was startled to see Chase Carter waiting outside.

He had lost weight; was he struggling to adjust to his new school?

Stopping in her tracks, she scanned the area-several onlookers were indeed watching.

Chase approached rapidly, causing Giselle to retreat in fear. She did not want to endanger him.

Henry Jefferson was merciless, and his threats were not idle. If he said he would harm Chase, he meant it.

"Giselle, are you avoiding me?" Chase asked, his voice laced with pain.

Just as she was about to explain, the announcer called her name, signaling it was her time to perform.

Wordlessly, she gathered her skirt and brushed past Chase.

The auditorium was packed, not only with their own students but also with many visitors.

The Platinum Dance competition had a reputation for launching performers into professional careers with high-paying contracts.

It was now Giselle's turn. She inhaled deeply, lifted her skirt, and stepped onto the stage.

Her dance was a blend of graceful moves and robust energy, a fusion of innate talent and relentless practice. She received a standing ovation.

After her performance, as the stage darkened to prepare for the next act, Giselle could hardly see. Her long skirt did not help.

Descending the steps, she misstepped, caught her skirt, and tumbled down what felt like an entire flight of stairs.

"Giselle!" Chase was by her side in an instant, lifting her into his arms.

"Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" he asked, concern etching his face.

"My knee is really hurting," she winced, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck.

"I'm sorry, but I need to check your wound,"

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on 05s.org for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading! Chase said as he carefully lifted her skirt to inspect her knee, revealing a deep cut likely caused by the sharp edge of a step.

He hastened his steps. "I'll take you to the hospital now."

Being so close again, Giselle could see the fine details of his skin and breathe in his subtle, refreshing scent-so different from Henry's overwhelming perfume.

Her fleeting indulgence was cut short by the sudden reminder of Henry's nearby henchmen.

"I can still walk; please put me down," she insisted.

But Chase tightened his grip around her waist, a flush spreading across his ears. "You're badly hurt; it pains me to see you walk."

His blunt concern made Giselle blush and lean into his shoulder as he carried her away.

They moved down the corridor. Giselle looked toward a side door and froze a figure stood there, watching intently.

Henry Jefferson, hands in his pockets, observed them with a calm gaze that belied the storm brewing within, a tempest as threatening as the ominous prelude to a mountain storm.