Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights

Giselle Lambert was pinned by the shoulders, her struggles futile against the firm grips.

At this late hour, the neighbors were deep in slumber, and her odds of escaping the clutch of six or seven muscular men were nonexistent.

Desperation in her eyes, Giselle stared at the harsh glare of the hallway's incandescent bulb as Scarface spoke, "Miss Lambert, pay up and we'll leave right now."

"We agreed on the start of next month. You're not keeping your word!"

Resistance would only provoke these desperados further. Giselle's only hope was to stall, make enough noise, and pray someone would notice.

Impatient, Scarface snapped, "Just hand over the money and save your breath."

"I can't come up with that amount so soon. Could you give me a week?"

"A week? After all the trouble I went through to find you? If I let you go now, who knows where you'll hide next?"

He approached her with a lecherous gaze as he spoke.

Giselle was slender and elegant, with almond eyes, teeth like pearls, and full, lush lips. Her long, straight black hair accentuated her allure and gentleness. Her cheeks, flushed from the struggle, gave her an air of shy desire. Scarface, stroking his stubble and chuckling lewdly, said, "Can't pay? No problem. I'll sell you to a nightclub. With your looks, you'll earn back the money in no time."

"Please, just one more day. I promise I'll get it," Giselle pleaded.

"No more delays," he growled, grabbing her hand and pressing it against the fingerprint scanner with a beep.

He pushed open the door, "Bring her in."

Giselle was hauled into the rented apartment, and Scarface shut the door with more force, his gaze turning overtly predatory.

He smirked lewdly, "Since you're headed to the nightclub anyway, might as well let the boys have a go first."

The men chuckled lasciviously, their eyes alight with undisguised greed and lust.

Sweat trickled down Giselle's back; her teeth chattered, yet she managed to maintain a veneer of calm, "I still have some money in my account, and I can pawn these jewels I'm wearing." Scarface scanned her jewelry mockingly, "How much can your trinkets be worth? You took out a million-dollar loan."

"They are all genuine," she insisted.

At that moment, Giselle was immensely grateful to Henry Jefferson. He had filled her closet with luxury items, though she rarely wore any.

The jewelry she had on had been forced on her by Henry after a night together.

Though they were gifts from Henry, her life was now at stake. She considered them borrowed, planning to return them someday.

"The dress I'm wearing is worth three million; the necklace is a timeless piece by the famed Italian designer Marcello, worth over a hundred million dollars."

As she described her possessions, Scarface examined them, realizing her attire did indeed look high-end.

He paused, looked around the sparse apartment, and realized she was bluffing.

With a swift motion, he slapped her across the face.

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The pain was sharp, leaving a vivid red mark as tears sprang to Giselle's eyes.

"Did you think I was blind? Bragging in fakes," he bellowed arrogantly.

As Giselle fought through tears of humiliation, the men grew restless, one urging, "Boss, quit the chit-chat. Let's get this started."

Her hands were tied, her legs flailed as she struggled. Scarface grabbed her calves, his touch on her soft skin lascivious.

"Such a hot girl," he couldn't resist remarking.

Another man pulled at Giselle's top, reaching inside. In a desperate move, Giselle headbutted him.

He howled in pain, blood streaming from his nose.

"Damn!" he cursed, becoming rougher.

Giselle writhed, targeting Scarface's throat with a headbutt.

Crack-

"Ahh!"

A sickening crunch and a scream filled the air.

"Bitch!". Furious, Scarface punched her face hard.

Dazed by the blow, Giselle staggered backward, falling and hitting her head on a coffee table.

The world spun, her vision blurred, and as she slipped into unconsciousness,

she heard knocking at the door and a man's familiar voice calling her name.

Henry Jefferson had faced bullets and blood without fear in his earlier life.

But upon opening that door and seeing Giselle, bruised and disheveled on the floor, he experienced true fear for the first time. What might have happened had he not arrived in time was unthinkable.

His expression darkened, his thumb twirling a ring on his finger, a menacing aura enveloping him.

His expression somber, Henry Jefferson continuously twirled the ring on his thumb, a palpable, oppressive aura surrounding him.

Startled by the interruption, Scarface and his men were about to erupt in curses when they caught a clear glimpse of him and fell silent. They had never met Henry Jefferson before, but they recognized his ring.

There was a chilling rumor in Sicily: anyone who saw Henry Jefferson twirling his ring met a gruesome end.

Panicked, Scarface quickly released Giselle and scurried over, falling to his knees in a disgraceful scramble. "Henry, what... what brings you here?"