Chapter 63
Giselle tensed immediately.
The next moment, Chester leaned in, his warm breath brushing her ear. It was a foreign sensation.
“There’s surveillance,” he murmured, his voice soft.
Giselle forced herself to remain calm, ensuring she didn’t expose herself. She pointed at the woman standing at the end of the
line.
The 11
unselected women filed out one by one. As the door clicked shut, Chester pulled Giselle onto the couch beside him.
The room was dimly lit, its air filled with a faint sandalwood fragrance.
They looked every bit the picture of a couple–a handsome man and a beautiful woman seated closely together.
Chester’s hand remained firmly around her waist. Giselle felt an inexplicable heat rise within her, the warmth at her waist
particularly searing.
She forced her thoughts elsewhere and lifted her gaze to the young woman now standing before them.
“How old are you?” Giselle asked.
Yvonne Sullivan kept her head down, clearly uneasy in her revealing outfit. Tugging at the hem of her dress, she answered in a
low voice, “I just turned 22.”
“What’s your name?”
Yves.”
It was obviously an alias.
Giselle was now certain that this was the girl who had messaged her. She had found her.
However, there was no way to know if the others here shared Yvonne’s circumstances, lured into this place by deceit.
Giselle exchanged a glance with Chester. His steady gaze radiated trust, reassuring her that she wasn’t facing this alone.
As she rose to her feet, Chester’s hand fell away from her waist. Under his watchful eyes, Giselle walked to the door and locked it.
The sound of the lock clicking made Yvonne flinch.
The surveillance camera’s red light continued blinking steadily, and Giselle narrowed her eyes. Then, she grabbed the asht
from the table and hurled it at the camera,
The sharp shatter of glass was followed by the heavy thud of the ashtray hitting the floor.
Yvonne let out a startled scream.
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“Shh. I won’t hurt you,” Giselle reassured her in a gentle tone.
Yet, Yvonne was still trembling. Her face was pale, and panic filled her eyes.
Giselle removed her own jacket and draped it over Yvonne’s shoulders before guiding her to sit on the couch.
“Your mother has contacted the police. We’ll get you out of here soon,” Giselle said.
“I don’t want to leave!” At the mention of leaving, Yvonne’s emotions flared. “I’m not going!”
Her reaction was odd. Giselle studied her carefully, then tentatively asked, “Is it because of that man?”
Yvonne shook her head silently
“Then… Is it because of your mother?” Giselle guessed again.
This time, Yvonne’s expression shifted. Giselle had touched a sore spot, causing tears to stream down Yvonne’s cheeks
immediately. She covered her face with her hands and sobbed uncontrollably.
Eventually, she choked out, “Just leave me here. I’m not going anywhere.”
Compared to this place, home was far worse–a personal hell. Here, at least, she felt like a human being, not a puppet on strings.
The room grew quiet.
Chester moved to the door, still maintaining his calm demeanor as he rolled up his sleeves. “They’re coming,” he said.
Giselle’s earlier actions had been too conspicuous. It was impossible for those monitoring the surveillance not to react. From the
start, allowing them inside had been part of a trap.
Chester smirked coldly. He sent a message to someone, then turned to Giselle. “Find a chance to escape. Don’t worry about me.”
“I won’t leave you behind,” she said.
Chester glanced at her. “If you said that under different circumstances, I might actually be happy to hear it.”
Giselle frowned. “What do you mean?”
Before she could figure it out, the door shook violently as someone kicked it from the other side.
