Chapter 4: The Most Vile Man Alive

Henry Jefferson didn’t spare him a glance as he walked straight past, lifting Giselle Lambert into his arms and draping his jacket over her. She had multiple wounds on her body, with bruised, scraped marks on her knees. Even at his angriest, Henry would never harm her, yet these people had dared to treat her so cruelly. Gently, he wiped the blood from the corner of her mouth with his thumb, his voice cool and detached, “Beat them up, then dump them in Wilker Bay.” Legend had it that Wilker Bay was swarming with sharks. The mobsters would first cripple the worst offenders before tossing them in to feed the fish, a process both long and excruciatingly painful. Scarface, terrified, began to whimper and desperately reached out to grab Henry for mercy. Men in identical black suits rushed forward, restraining Scarface and his lackeys. Henry had barely stepped out of the room with Giselle in his arms when agonizing screams erupted from inside, sounding inhuman. Inside Larocque Manor, the setting sun’s afterglow streamed through the curtains. Giselle stared blankly at the ceiling, her head still faintly throbbing. What had happened after she had passed out last night? Surrounded by familiar bedding and decor, and the masculine scent around her, she was back in this prison. The room was quiet, and she wondered where Henry had gone. She managed to sit up, noticing her wounds had been tended to and neatly bandaged. “Miss Lambert, you’re finally awake,” said a woman in a white lab coat, adjusting her gold-rimmed glasses. “Do you feel discomfort anywhere else?” “Just a bit of a headache at the back of my head.” “You have a mild concussion. Avoid strenuous activities and follow the treatment plan for recovery,” the doctor advised. Giselle nodded, relieved it wasn’t serious. The doctor placed a bottle of medicine on the bedside table, advising, “Just apply this to your wounds as instructed. I’m in the villa next door. Call me if you feel unwell.” “Thank you,” Giselle responded. The next-door villa housed Henry’s private medical team, and the woman was evidently one of his summoned doctors. As the doctor was leaving, Giselle quickly asked, “Where is Henry?” “Mr. Jefferson went out this afternoon but should be back soon.” After the doctor left, Giselle was about to get out of bed when the door was suddenly flung open with force, and Henry strode in. He walked directly up to her, looking down at her with a complex emotion in his eyes. The two stared silently at each other for a while, Henry suppressing his anger, “Didn’t I warn you last time about trying to escape?” His voice was deep and clearly furious. Giselle avoided his gaze, silently staring at the blanket, pretending he wasn’t there. The more she remained silent, the angrier Henry got. Suddenly, he grasped her chin forcefully, making her look at him. “Speak!” His tone was cold and uncompromising. Still, Giselle said nothing, her chin pinched so hard her eyes welled up with tears, though she pursed her lips to stop them from falling. Her pitiful yet stubborn demeanor extinguished his fury, leaving only distress. He released her chin, softly caressing it, and asked gently, “Does it hurt? Were you frightened today?” Before she could answer, Henry sat down, pulling her fiercely into his arms, his embrace tightening as if to merge her into his very being. This pressured her wounds, making her voice wince, “Henry, it hurts.” Taken aback for a moment, Henry released her and took some ointment from the bedside table, lifting her shirt to apply it. The cool touch of the ointment on her skin made her instinctively shrink back, elbowing him away, “Don’t touch me!” Henry’s patience wore thin, and he pinned her beneath him, “Have I spoiled you too much, that you dare to treat me this way?” Spoiled? That was the most insincere lie Giselle had ever heard. Not only did he possess her, he imprisoned her. He was the worst man in the world! If she had a knife now, she would stab him without hesitation. Henry threatened, “Giselle, if you don’t start behaving, I will make you suffer more.” He set down the ointment, pulling a paper from his pocket and handing it to her, “Sign this.” Giselle, puzzled, took the paper and saw it was a consent form for surgery. “Your grandmother has been unconscious for two days and needs surgery urgently,” Henry explained. Giselle pushed him away and leaped out of bed, “I need to see my grandmother.” “Not allowed.” Henry Jefferson wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her back into a tight embrace. “Sign your name; I’ll handle your grandmother’s situation.” “Why won’t you let me see her!” Henry scoffed coldly, “Is it really to see her, or to escape? Do you think I can still trust you?” Giselle glared at him coldly, cursing him a thousand times in her mind. Henry’s eyes glinted with intense obsession. “From today onwards, without my permission, you are not to set foot outside the manor.”