Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights

The female doctor gently pressed Giselle Lambert's kneecap. "It's just a superficial wound. Care for it properly, change the dressing regularly, and it won't cause any issues." Giselle sighed with relief.

"This might sting a bit. Try to bear with it."

The doctor efficiently began tending to the wound. Cleaning it was manageable, but disinfection was another story. As Giselle clenched her teeth and trembled, the sensation of the iodine-soaked cotton ball touching her raw flesh was akin to a blunt knife slicing through her.

Despite the sharp pain, she didn't utter a single cry.

Henry Jefferson's body bore countless scars, some from bullets that had embedded deep within his flesh, perilously close to his heart.

In dire situations, he had endured bullet extractions without any anesthesia.

A red-hot dagger was used to cruelly carve out the bullet casings.

Even with his history of enduring pain, seeing Giselle wince made Henry's heart wrench painfully, as if a giant hand were tearing it apart. He wished he could take her pain upon himself.

He offered his arm to her. "Bite down on this if it hurts."

Giselle remained silent, refusing with her silence.

After what felt like an eternity, the wound was finally dressed.

"Keep it dry, avoid spicy foods, and don't drink alcohol," the doctor instructed while packing up her medical kit.

Henry carefully noted each directive, then called Sophie to manage Giselle's dietary needs accordingly.

The pain during the dressing had been so severe that Giselle was sweating profusely. She wanted to shower and cover the wound.

But as she attempted to stand, Henry pressed her back down and lifted her in his arms.

"Where do you need to go? I'll carry you," he declared in a commanding tone.

Giselle turned away, not meeting his gaze, her demeanor cold and resistant.

Henry didn't press her further and carried her straight to the bedroom.

She sat on the edge of the bed while Henry knelt before her, his posture submissive Yatest his eYatess still held a commanding presence. "Does it still hurt?" he asked, his voice deep and serious.

Giselle didn't answer right away, deepening Henry's frown. She had tenderly called out for Chase Carter earlier, yet now she didn't seem to have the patience to even speak to him. Grinding his teeth, he gripped her injured leg and asked sharply, "Giselle, are you trying to defy me? Are you trying to get him killed?"

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on 000005s.org for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading!

He delivered the question with the force of a statement, his tone implying the gravity of the situation.

The room tensed instantly. Giselle clenched the sheets.

She had already disappointed Chase; how could she let him be hurt because of her?

The seconds stretched into an eternity, though it was just a moment before she responded firmly, "I won't contact him again."

That was exactly the answer Henry wanted, yet it dripped with irony.

His beloved, submitting to him only to protect another man.

What did Chase have that made her stay? Neither his looks, his family background, nor his wealth could match Henry's.

Henry had climbed from a teenage recruit to a mafia boss in Sicily, and Yatest he still couldn't measure up to a man who had nothing.

That man didn't even love her as much as she thought, yet she still cared for him.

He scoffed, a self-mocking laugh, his gaze icy as he stared at her: "Make sure you keep your word this time."

Turning sharply, he left the room.

He paused at the door, then with a sudden move, slammed it shut behind him.

The loud slam startled Giselle, and it took her moments to regain her composure.

Downstairs, the sound of an engine roaring to life echoed.

Giselle limped to the balcony just in time to see Henry speeding away in a Lamborghini Urus.

The headlights briefly illuminated the balcony, the brightness making her squint. It felt as if she could see Henry's eyes staring back at her through the car window and across the distance. The Urus accelerated swiftly, its taillights vanishing in an instant.

Unable to decipher his emotions, Giselle stopped trying to guess.

Over the next few days, Henry didn't return to the villa, nor did he assign any tasks to Giselle.

Sophie mentioned he hadn't been at the office either, and she was relieved not to have to deliver his lunch.

If one could ignore the constant surveillance, it was as if Henry had vanished from Giselle's world.

Yatest she dared not let her guard down; after all, Henry was unpredictable, and no one could guess what he might do next.

On the first night after Henry left the estate, Giselle discovered that her phone's communication functions had been restored.