Chapter 72 I Won't Allow You to Leave My Side

Chapter 72 I Won't Allow You to Leave My Side

Valentin wore a long black cashmere coat, its cut making his frame look even more upright and cold. He stood under the dim yellow streetlight, his gaze behind gold-rimmed glasses cutting through the cold wind and locking onto her with precision.

Giselle's heart skipped a beat.

Almost instinctively, she hunched her shoulders and buried half her face in her thick scarf. The next second, she spun around sharply, pretending not to see him, and quickened her pace in the opposite direction.

He can't see me. He won't recognize me. She repeated this in her mind, her steps growing more and more hurried.

"Giselle."

Valentin's voice came from behind—calm, low, carrying an oppressive force that left no room for negotiation, cutting cleanly through the sound of the wind.

Her whole body froze, her stomach dropping. She didn't stop. Instead, she broke from a fast walk into a jog.

Her heels clicked against the hard pavement, the sound rushed and chaotic, particularly jarring in the quiet street corner.

She just wanted to leave, to get away from this man—away from the person who could make her barely stable life spin out of control again.

But physical differences never care about fairness.

She hadn't even run about sixty yards when steady, powerful footsteps sounded behind her, the distance closing rapidly.

The next instant, a force grabbed her wrist and yanked hard.

Giselle couldn't steady herself in time. Her whole body fell backward, tumbling directly into an embrace carrying the cold scent of cedar.

"Why are you running?" Valentin looked down at her, his voice suppressing a thin anger at their reunion, along with a barely noticeable tension.

Giselle gasped for breath, struggling to pull her wrist free, but he only gripped it tighter. She looked up into those eyes so deep you couldn't see the bottom, her gaze darting away as she forced out a sentence, "Mr. Dobbins? Sorry, I didn't see clearly just now. The wind was too strong, I thought someone was following me, so I instinctively sped up."

"Didn't notice?" Valentin let out a short, cold laugh, his long fingers gripping her chin, forcing her to look directly at him. "If you didn't notice, why were you running? Giselle, after a few months apart, you've gotten better at making things up."

Her lie exposed on the spot, her face went pale then quickly flushed red. She simply raised her eyes to glare at him, dropping the act. "Mr. Dobbins, since you know I'm avoiding you, why bother chasing after me? I'm an employee of Fuller Corporation now. There's nothing between us anymore."

"Nothing between us?" Valentin leaned down slightly, his breath brushing past her ear, but his words were cold as ice. "Have you forgotten that you only said verbally you were leaving? The Dobbins Group's HR never received your formal written documents, and no resignation was ever confirmed. According to procedure, you're still considered employed."

He paused, his words growing heavier. "You didn't terminate your contract before joining Fuller Corporation. That's called breach of contract."

Giselle froze. She had left in such a rush back then, and after he blocked her, she really hadn't followed up on those procedures.

"So what?" She straightened her chest, forcing herself not to back down. "At worst, I'll pay the penalty. Mr. Dobbins, you're worth billions. Surely you wouldn't fixate on me over this little bit of money."

"I don't care about the money." Valentin's gaze darkened, his tone turning dangerous, like a rope slowly tightening. "But I won't allow you to leave my side."

Before Giselle could react, he was already dragging her toward the Bentley without discussion.

"Let go of me. Valentin, this is kidnapping." She panicked, struggling desperately, her nails leaving several obvious marks on his expensive coat.

Valentin didn't respond. Like picking up a piece of uncooperative luggage, he stuffed her into the back seat, then got in himself. The instant the car door locked, only his presence remained in the narrow space, so oppressive she could barely breathe.

"Drive," he ordered coldly.

Giselle huddled by the car door, watching the window warily. The car moved smoothly forward, streetscapes sliding past section by section. She soon realized the route was growing more and more familiar—until the sign of that convenience store she'd seen countless times appeared, and her heart sank completely.

This was the direction to her newly rented apartment.

"How do you know where I live?" She turned her head, her voice trembling beyond control.

It was a place she'd worked so hard to find, somewhere even Ethan had only dropped her off downstairs.

Valentin turned to look at her. Neon lights flickered past the car window, reflecting on his lenses. The corner of his mouth curved up slightly, but without any warmth.

"Giselle, finding out someone's address is easier for me than you deciding what to eat tonight."

She felt a chill run up her spine. He'd been investigating her all along, watching her all along. That feeling of being completely tracked made her throat tighten.

The car finally stopped in front of an old apartment building.

Valentin got out, walked around to the other side, and pulled Giselle out with quick, rough movements.

He walked into the elevator as if he'd been there many times before, pressing the button for her floor.

During those few seconds as the elevator ascended, Giselle stared at the jumping numbers, her heart beating so fast it hurt.

"Valentin, what exactly do you want? Can't you just let me go?" She was almost begging.

Valentin didn't answer. Behind his lenses, those eyes gleamed with certainty in the dim elevator, as if the ending had already been decided.

A chime sounded, and the elevator doors opened.

Valentin dragged her to the end of the hallway, stopping in front of her door.

He finally released her wrist, his gaze falling on the lock, then turning to her. His tone was flat, but sent chills down her spine.

"Keys. Or I'll have someone open it."

Giselle completely panicked.

This door had originally meant safety and independence, but now it was like a boundary trapping her.

He not only knew she lived in this building, he even knew exactly which unit.

That feeling of being completely controlled pressed down on her. Standing in the winter night hallway, she couldn't stop shaking.