Chapter 330
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Chapter 330:
The timeline slammed into her brain. Three years ago — long before they had ever spoken a single word to each other.
“I went to a filthy underground shop,” Gaston continued, his fingers digging into her waist. “I had them carve your initials into my chest. I needed a permanent reminder.” He leaned down until his face was inches from hers. “A reminder that one day, I was going to take you away from him. I did not care how long it took. I did not care how dirty I had to play. I wanted you p>
Jocelyn stared at him. The sheer, staggering depth of his obsession paralyzed her completely.
All the rumors about his preferences. All the talk about a contract marriage between strangers. It burned to ash in her mind. This hadn’t started with a contract. It had started long before any of that. This man had been watching her from the shadows for years.
𝘛hous𝗮𝗇𝖽𝗌 o𝖿 r𝖾𝘢𝗱er𝘴 on
Her legs gave out entirely.
Gaston didn’t hesitate. He swept her up into his arms, lifting her off the ground and pressing her tightly against his exposed chest. He buried his face in the curve of her neck and inhaled her scent like a man drawing his first breath after drowning.
Jocelyn did not fight him. She rested her cheek against his shoulder. She could feel the faint raised texture of the ink against her skin. It was the most grounding sensation she had ever experienced.
Gaston felt her shivering against him. He stripped off his tuxedo jacket and wrapped it tightly around her shoulders, burying her in cedar and whiskey.
He did not carry her back through the grand ballroom. He refused to let anyone else look at her. Instead, he took a hidden, narrow service staircase along the side of the estate, moving through the shadows and completely bypassing the hundreds of guests inside.
He kicked open the door of the master suite the estate had prepared for them, carried her inside, and kicked it shut behind him. The lock clicked in the quiet room.
He crossed to the king-sized bed and set her gently on the edge of the mattress.
Jocelyn looked up at him, breathing heavily.
Gaston stood over her, his ruined shirt hanging open, exposing the broad expanse of his chest and the stark black tattoo beneath it. Then he dropped to one knee on the thick carpet, placing his hands on the mattress on either side of her hips, and looked up at her. His dark eyes were bottomless.
“I gave you time,” Gaston said, his voice a low, deliberate rumble. “I played the game. I let you believe whatever you needed to believe to feel safe.” He leaned closer. “But the truth is out now, Jocelyn. I am not backing up a single inch. You are mine p>
Jocelyn slowly raised her right hand.
Her fingers trembled as she reached out and gently traced the outline of the W with her index finger.
A deep, overwhelming wave of affection and heartache swelled in her chest at once.
Message from Noa: Have a beautiful morning lovely readers. God loves you and Noa wishes you all the best. /