บททั้งหมดของ The Bad Gentleman : บทที่ 71 - บทที่ 80

Hannah "I can't lie, Hans. I'm scared. What if the cops knock down my door and start questioning me?" Soph cries, her voice echoing through the room. I press my lips together."I’m scared too.” Connor’s lifeless body flashes behind my eyes. “I didn’t think he was actually going to kill him—”"What do you mean 'really kill him'? Did Christian say he would?" I shouldn't have said that."Well, not exactly... but kinda. Look, he doesn't do anything without a plan, so I know he must've found a way to keep us out of suspicion," I tell her, but the words are mostly to comfort myself. The mafia has protocols for this, right?Soph exhales. "I hope you're right, Hans. Desmond is still shaken. I never thought I'd live long enough to see him cry.""Didn't you leave after I did?" I ask, meeting my reflection in the large mirror in the restroom. "Um..." she trails off. I drop the mascara, staring at my phone like she might magically pop out of it."So the thing is, I may or may not have spent the

Hannah “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss your bride.” Christian is already moving, grabbing both sides of my face even before the officiant finishes his sentence. His lips claim mine in a soft kiss. Possibly the softest kiss he’s ever given me, and I’m forced to think it’s out of respect for the officiant and the church, but he proves me wrong by letting one of his hands slide down to my waist, closing whatever little distance was left between us, deepening the kiss. And that’s when I feel it, the unmistakable press of his erection against me, firm and unapologetic, as if even here, before God, he refuses to pretend he doesn’t want me. Shocked and unprepared, I place my hands on his chest, trying to push him away from me, but he doesn’t budge, until the officiant clears his throat. Christian’s eyes are heavy-lidded, dark, and brimming with lust as he takes a step back. They don’t leave mine as he slowly raises his thumb to his bottom lip, swiping the stains from my l

Hannah I've been a married woman for three days already, but I don't feel it.Now and then, I stare at the ring on my finger, unable to believe I’m not just married, but married to a mafia Don. It’s been the most tense three days of my life. I filled day one and two with distracting thoughts, anything at all to keep me from thinking about what I don't know and focus on what I do know: that Christian is an attentive husband.By the third day, I think I mastered the art of concentrating on my happiness, losing myself in the little joy that is my Vegas honeymoon. Christian has been more reserved than usual ever since our talk, but it didn't stop me from dragging him out with me to go sightseeing and a little shopping.I think one thing I understood from how he deflected the question is that whatever it is, he's not going to tell me. So I decided to find out what it is myself.My phone on the kitchen counter beside me pings. I grab it instantly, tapping on the notification board. It's

(Double POV moment “Hey love, what’s going on?” Soph asks the second my backside hit the car seat. I don’t say anything at first. I shut the door, staring at the mansion behind me before turning to her with my left hand suspended. “We got married in Vegas.” I drop it like it’s hot and Soph reacts accordingly; raised brow, eyes widened and her mouth hanging open as her gaze shifts from my face to the boulder on my finger. “Can you start driving?” I ask, before looking down at my phone in my hand. I unlock it, tapping on my messages icon. For a second, I just stare at the display of messages, my eyes on one in particular as Soph begins to drive. “How did that happen?” Soph’s voice settle low in my stomach. I want to tell her I also don’t know how it came to be, but I don’t. Instead, I tell her the truth. “I fell asleep in the living room and woke up on a plane going to Vegas,” I tell her. I’m just about to tap on his name to let him know where I’m going even when

Hannah Darkness engulfs me. Though it's more than the darkness. It's fear and pain in every inch and fiber of my being. My eyes are open, but the blindfold keeps my vision in pure nothingness. Just splotches of color dancing around in my imagination. I don't know where I am or where I was taken, but I can tell it's a place with a vast expanse of air, the atmosphere unconfined. It only makes it worse that the voices of the people here with me echo even at a distance. It brings to mind the first time I was taken against my will, the day I was introduced to the ugly side of New York; bound, blindfolded, and very scared for my life. The difference between then and now? This time, I feel like I'm actually going to die. My cheek stings from the pressure cast against it just mere minutes ago. They were two heavy slaps that split my lip, forcing blood out and sending my already sitting body to the cold, hard concrete floor. What exactly did I do to deserve this? I've commit