Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights

Giselle Lambert's mind turned to mush, her dark pupils frozen like ice on her stark pale face, a haunting sight. She tightened her grip on Chase Carter's arm abruptly, squeezing so hard it caused him pain, making him grimace. "Put me down, now."

Giselle herself hadn't noticed her voice quivering, laced with an uncontrollable fear.

Chase, confused, asked, "What are you afraid of?"

Thud-thud-thud-

The timing of the footsteps was impeccable.

Giselle's complexion drastically changed, her whole body tensing visibly.

Moments ago, the background noise of the stage was still audible, but with Henry Jefferson's arrival, the entire world seemed to go silent, all visuals blurring except for his silhouette advancing against the light. His polished shoes clacked against the ground, each step resonating like a deadly drumbeat.

Henry stopped and surveYatesd Giselle. "Is this what you call a competition?"

His voice was devoid of emotion, barely stirring the air.

Chase didn't recognize this imposing figure, but the man's attire was clearly not that of an ordinary person.

He was convinced that Giselle had no business with such individuals and tried to bypass him, "This has nothing to do with you, please step aside."

Henry acted as if he heard nothing, his gaze not leaving Giselle for a second.

Giselle, unable to meet his eYatess, tensed up and managed to say, "Chase, let me down."

"Why? Are you hurt that bad?" Chase didn't budge.

Henry, growing impatient with their tender exchange, furrowed his brow and reached out to Giselle.

"Come, don't make me come get you," he said, his voice cold and final.

Giselle knew this was a sign of Henry's anger brewing.

Standing up to him would only lead to pain for her and Chase.

She cast a longing glance at Chase, fearing this might be their last moment together. Silently bidding him farewell in her heart, she let go of his arm to reach for Henry's wrist. With minimal effort, Henry pulled Giselle from Chase's embrace, her delicate form settling in his arms, soothing his agitation.

He darkly scanned the wound on her knee as he carried her away from the auditorium.

"Giselle, what's your relationship with him?" Chase demanded, rushing after them, attempting to reach for Giselle. Copper, the assistant, blocked him, "Mr. Carter, if you value your life, keep your distance from the lady." "Lady?"

...

Henry drove them back to the manor at breakneck speed, the speedometer needle swiftly climbing from 0 to 90 mph. The swift acceleration threw Giselle forward, the seatbelt tightening against her stomach, making her stomach churn.

The pain in her leg intensified, and she bit her lip to keep from crying out.

The landscape outside sped backwards, horns honking intermittently.

Inside, the car was as silent as a grave.

The engine's roar grew louder, seeming to torment Giselle.

Upon arrival at the manor, Henry, face cold as stone, opened the passenger door and leaned in close to Giselle.

Ice seemed to crystallize in his eYatess as he stared fixedly at her, and she pressed back in fear, her back against the seat, the car's atmosphere searing. Click-

Giselle trembled at the sound.

The seatbelt unbuckled, Henry lifted her out without a word.

The family doctor was already waiting in the living room. Henry placed Giselle gently on the couch, his demeanor cold Yatest careful.

The female doctor pulled up Giselle's skirt to inspect the knee wound and couldn't help but say, "Miss Lambert, you endure so much." Henry's eYateslid twitched as he began to closely examine the wound.

The injury, aggravated by the drive and sudden stops, appeared even worse than initially thought.

Giselle released her bitten lip, now marked by a blood trail.

"Is the wound severe?" she asked anxiously. "Will it affect my competition in two weeks?"