Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights
Chapter 38: Once Again, He Had Rescued Her.

Under the influence of medication, Giselle Lambert had been abruptly awoken by the chill of cold water, yet her mind remained in a fog. The air was tinged with the faint scent of black cedar mixed with the smell of gunpowder, an oddly comforting combination.

Once she assured herself that she was in a safe environment, Giselle's eyelids began to droop again as the drug's effects intensified. She attempted to pry her eyes open, but it was futile.

"Go back to sleep; breakfast will be ready when you wake up,"Henry murmured, patting Giselle's shoulder in the cover of night.

Finding solace in his voice, Giselle no longer resisted and let herself slip back into unconsciousness.

When she awoke, she found herself back at Laroc Estate.

Propping herself up slightly, she saw Henry sitting on a couch across from her, flipping through documents.

"Awake?" he asked as he set the papers aside, picked up a communicator, and quietly issued a few instructions.

Rubbing her temples, Giselle's memories of the previous night washed over her like a tide. It took her a moment to nod, still somewhat dazed.

Putting down the communicator, Henry walked over to the bed and gently checked her forehead with his hand to ensure her temperature was normal before he began to explain, "I had an urgent matter to attend to yesterday afternoon, which is why I had to leave early."

Giselle blinked, puzzled, "Why do you need to explain this?"

Henry remained silent, then suddenly drew her into an embrace as if clinging to life after a catastrophe.

His chest was broad and reassuring.

Giselle thought back to the peril she had faced the previous night, almost compromised, and Henry had been her savior from disaster.

Once again, he had rescued her.

She felt a stir of melancholy; the person who had hurt her deeply was also her repeated savior.

Yet, his misdeeds could not undo the fact that he had kept her captive.

Their hearts beat in unison, separated only by the thin fabric of their clothes, yet their thoughts diverged vastly.

She was plotting her escape; he was terrified of losing her.

Giselle lay in Henry's arms, passive like an emotionless doll, without any sign of response or resistance.

After a while, a knock came at the bedroom door.

"Come in," Henry called out.

Sophie entered with a tray carrying two bowls of porridge, setting them on the bedside table as instructed before leaving.

"Which one would you like?" Henry asked, pointing to one bowl of century egg and lean pork congee and another of red dates and lotus seed congee. Giselle hesitated, then picked up the bowl of red dates and lotus seed congee.

"Let me feed you," Henry said, taking the bowl from her, scooping up a spoonful, cooling it with his breath, and bringing it to her lips.

Reluctantly, Giselle opened her mouth and accepted the spoonful of congee.

After she finished the bowl, Giselle tried to rise from the bed, but Henry held her in place.

"Don't move," he instructed, his hand still on her as he reached into a drawer and pulled out a tube of ointment.

He lifted her hand, and Giselle noticed a deep red mark on her wrist from a rope burn the night before.

The ointment was cool and refreshing against her skin.

As he finished applying it, Henry's fingers traced circles on her wrist, reigniting the burning sensation.

She withdrew her hand, but he pulled it back firmly.

After he had treated her wrist, Henry moved beside the bed, took hold of her ankle, and began to gently massage it.

Her slender ankle looked striking with a prominent red mark against her delicate, pale skin, eliciting a sense of pity. Henry's Adam's apple bobbed as he applied more ointment.

Giselle, sensitive to touch, shivered involuntarily.

Henry's warm palm remained on her ankle; his eyes intensely fixed on her.

Frightened, Giselle attempted to withdraw her ankle. "You don't need to do this; I can manage. Go back to your documents."

As she spoke, Henry applied ointment to her other ankle and pressed gently on the wound.

Giselle let out a stifled moan of pain and looked at him reproachfully.

"Such a delicate reaction," Henry's lips twitched into a slight smile, his touch growing tenderer. "Feel the pain, and maybe next time you won't resist me."