Chapter 350: Must Stay Strong (Part 1)
“No, we’re about to land. Look, we’re almost at the estate,” Pierre said, his voice edged with impatience.
Alison wished the helicopter would never reach its destination, but the engine finally whined down, sealing her fate.
When the cabin door opened, Pierre held her as he stepped off the helicopter.
The estate staff had already come out to greet them.
“Mr. Pierre, Mr. Matthew just called and requested a callback.”
“Got it,” Pierre replied, striding away.
Unable to break free from his embrace, Alison could only let him carry her into the villa.
The hall was brightly lit. Two rows of servants stood before the door.
“Pierre, put me down.” She struggled, uneasy under their gazes.
“No! You’re my woman now. Do you still want others to hold you? Like Gabriel?”
He’d tolerated Gabriel far too long — that man’s obsession with Alison burned in his mind.
To Pierre, Alison wasn’t just a woman; she was leverage, a leash to keep Gabriel under control.
Upon reaching the third floor, the maid opened the door to his room.
“Is the bathwater ready?” he asked, still carrying her.
“Yes, it’s ready,” the maid replied.
“Are all the items prepared?” he pressed.
“Everything is ready as you instructed, sir,” the maid answered.
“Then you may all leave,” Pierre said — his tone trembling with anticipation.
Looking down at the woman in his arms, a dangerous hunger flashed through his eyes.
Pierre’s room was elegant, exuding an air of nobility.
The television played the latest news from City S.
Alison heard her own name on the broadcast, followed by police sirens.
It turned out that her kidnapping had already hit the headlines.
Had he found out yet?
No! Please don’t come, Gabriel…
The courtyard swarmed with enforcers; servants filled every corridor.
She realized that escape was impossible.
Alison’s thoughts raced as she desperately pondered how to survive the night.
Pierre might be formidable, but the police weren’t to be trifled with either.
That thought sparked a fragile ember of hope.
“Mr. Bruce, put me down! I’ll take a shower myself,” she murmured.
“Call me Pierre.”
“Pierre, just put me down,” she added, giving in.
“No, bathe together, baby. I’ve waited so long for this day. Don’t you like it?” Pierre’s face lit up with longing.
“I… I’m used to bathing alone,” she protested softly.
“So what? You must learn to live with me from now on.” His eyes flickered.
That look made Alison’s heart race wildly and filled her with panic.
The room felt like a cage, suffocating her.
His fingers reached for the torn fabric clinging to her body.
With a sharp rip, he tore her top apart.
The cloth fell away, leaving only her bandeau; his gaze burned over the curve it exposed.
Then, his hand moved toward her lower part.
The zipper slid down slowly, revealing her panties beneath.
His stare lingered on her lower belly — possessive, hungry.
Pierre chuckled softly and gently laid her on the bed.
The movement made Alison gasp softly. Her brows furrowed tightly.
“What’s wrong?” He drew his face so close to hers that she could feel only his breath and scent.
“Ugh… Pierre, it hurts.”
“Where?” His eyes were filled with suspicion.
“My feet. They hurt so much.”
“Oh, let me see.” Pierre held her down and began to remove her socks.
When he lifted them, red marks appeared.
“They’re bleeding! Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He swiftly removed her socks, snapping in irritation.
Alison pressed her lips together and replied, “You didn’t ask.”
His eyes lit up. He tossed the blood-stained socks aside and stared at her face.
“Alison, you’ve really something! Dare to talk to me like that!”
“Oh, it really hurts, Pierre. I don’t want to bathe. It’ll kill me,” she whined feebly.
She knew Pierre was a clean freak and wouldn’t touch an unwashed woman.
Pierre locked eyes with her for several seconds before laughing.
“Fine, skip it tonight. I’ll let you off the hook. But tomorrow won’t, understand?” He pinched her chin and warned.