Chapter 273 – An Unbreakable Vow with the Heartless Tycoon

Jackson raises his eyebrows and says, “Make it quick. Once I get this dress off you, I won’t be in the mood to listen.”

Gabrielle says, “What if I bought my freedom from you? I can give you money or my credit cards or whatever you want.”

“I don’t think you could afford that,” Jackson says, working the zipper down to her waist.

“Well, fine, I’ve heard that there are many escorts who work at The Palm House,” she says. “I’ll get you the most expensive one.”

“They’re not clean,” Jackson says, his eyebrows crinkling with disgust.

“I’ll find you a clean one,” Gabrielle says. “I swear.”

“You’re clean, aren’t you?” Jackson asks. “And you’re already here.”

Gabrielle bites her lips and squints, unsure how to respond. If I lie and pretend I’m not, he might do something violent, Gabrielle thinks. But if I don’t, he’ll r.a.p.e me. I don’t know what to say. Jackson raises his eyebrows and digs his fingernails into her back.

“There are so many clean women,” Gabrielle says. “Why must it be me?”

“Because you won’t get attached to me,” Jackson says. “I can see just how much you hate me in your eyes. When I get tired of you, I can get rid of you. I don’t have to worry about your acting clingy or needy.”

“How do you know I won’t?” Gabrielle asks, widening her eyes. “You know, you were my first. And everyone says you never forget your first.”

Jackson scowls and reaches to undo his robe. Gabrielle feels panic and adrenaline rush through her veins. She looks around the room and sees the bottle of wine. Jackson poured down her throat. She grabs the bottle and slams it into the side of his head. Jackson’s eyes widen in shock, and then he stumbles sideways and collapses onto the floor.

She hops off the counter, tugs her skirt back down, and quickly checks to see if he’s still breathing. She runs across the room and tugs on the door. There’s a complicated lock, and her fingers shake as she works to undo it. Finally, she jerks the door open. Something touches her arm, and then the door slam shuts. She turns around and sees Jackson towering over her.

Ruby red wine drips down his face, making him look like a deranged vampire. He smiles grimly and pulls her toward him. He pants heavily, and the smell of wine overwhelms her.

“Have you gone crazy?” he asks her. “How dare you attack me in my own home?”

Gabrielle stares at him in astonishment and says, “How are you still standing? I thought you fainted.”

Jackson wraps his long hands around her neck and squeezes. Slowly, he lifts her up. The pressure on her neck is unbearable; she gasps and coughs and kicks her legs. She reaches her arms out and tries to claw his face, but she can’t reach. The room starts to spin, and fuzzy black dots appear. Oh my God, she thinks. He’s really going to kill me.

He slams her back against the wall, loosening his grip on her neck. With one hand still holding her, he unties his robe and rips the dress off her body. He thrusts into her, and she screams as loud as she can.

“Oh shut up,” Jackson says, forcing the silk belt from his robe into her mouth.

She screams and screams around the cloth, but no sound comes out. She screams until her throat aches, and her eyes water. Jackson thrusts again and then scoops her up and carries her into his bedroom. He violently throws her onto the king-size bed and climbs on top of her. The wine on his face is mixed with blood from the cuts made by the bottle. Gabrielle closes her eyes and waits for it to end.

When Gabrielle wakes in the morning, her entire body aches, she winces with pain and turns her head to the side—Jackson is fast asleep next to her. The blood and wine have dried into a gory crust on the side of his face. Somehow, he still looks handsome—like a demon.

Slowly, Gabrielle climbs out of bed. Her legs almost give out beneath her as she wobbles across the room, looking for her underwear. She slides the underwear on and clasps her bra. Her sequined gown has been torn to shreds, but she finds a black, wraps top and a long flowing skirt.

The soft fabric of the shirt stings her arm terribly. She looks down and finds a nasty red scratch on the pale skin. She stares at Jackson and wants to kick him, but she knows it’s too dangerous to wake him. She looks down at his long, curly hair and then at the torn shreds of her dress. She smiles slyly to herself and gets to work.

The phone on the nightstand begins to buzz, and Gabrielle freezes terrified that the noise will wake Jackson. She holds her breath and waits for the buzzing to stop. When it does, she grabs the phone and checks the name on the screen—it’s Jessica. She unlocks the phone and types a quick text: I have a surprise for you. Come here quickly.

Gabrielle sends another message with the address, puts the phone back, and tiptoes out of the bedroom. She wishes she could do more to punish Jackson, but the text will have to do. At least for now.

There’s a loud banging sound, and it takes Jackson several minutes to realize that it’s coming from outside his head. He opens his eyes and groans—he’s alone in the bed and his headaches. The knocking on the door continues. He groans and gets out of bed, wrapping a towel around his waist.

Shreds of fabric from Gabrielle’s gown cover the floor, but Gabrielle is gone. He smiles to himself. She may look dumb, but she’s quite feisty, he thinks. I look forward to taming her.

He opens the door and finds Sivan standing at the door with a team of bodyguards. Sivan’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and he smirks as he looks at Jackson.

“Well, look at you, Jackson,” Sivan says, waving his hand up and down. “I was told there was some sort of surprise here, but I definitely wasn’t expecting this. This new style works for you, though. Am I guessing it’s the work of some lady friend? Maybe, you want to change your looks before Jessica comes?”

Jackson turns around and walks toward the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror and feels blood rush to his face. His hair has been bound into two small braids on either side of his head. White stripes of fabric are tied into huge bows at the end of each braid.

Jackson yanks the fabric from his hair and undoes the braids as quickly as he can. Then he splashes hot water on his face to clean away the dried blood and wine. He towels his face dry and scowls at his own reflection. He can’t believe Gabrielle was so bold.

I swear, I’m really going to teach her a lesson, he thinks. She may think she’s gotten away from me, but I’ll get her back soon enough.

The maternity wing at Memorial Husband is swarming with bodyguards wearing Waylen’s family insignia. By the time Leilani arrives, there’s a man at every door and window. She sighs and tries to avoid looking at them. The atmosphere at the hospital is tense, and she can’t help but feel like a prisoner on the way to her own execution.

She’s worried about the test results. If someone tampers with the test, Waylen might let her leave. However, if the results show that he’s the father, it’ll be almost impossible to escape.

She follows him down the long hallway. He walks quickly and confidently, without bothering to see if she’s following him. Even his back seems to radiate coldness. A team of doctors in white coats waits at the end of the hall.

“The equipment is ready, Mr. Bamford,” the lead doctor says.

“If there are any irregularities or issues with the results, the chair of the hospital should worry about his position,” Waylen says. “Have I made myself understood?”

The lead doctor goes pale, but he swallows hard and nods. Two nurses step forward, each taking one of Leilani’s arms. They seem more like correctional officers than nurses. Leilani pulls her hand away.

“I want to go to the bathroom first,” she says.

Waylen grabs her arm and turns her to face him, “What kind of trick do you want to play? There are so many bodyguards here. Do you think you can escape?”

His face is so close to hers; she can smell his minty breath and distinct shampoo. A sudden look of disgust crosses his face and pushes her away. She stumbles backward and bumps into the wall. She places a hand over her stomach and glares at him.

“You picked the hospital and filled it with your men,” she says. “I’d be stupid if I thought I could escape. You’re pushing me around as if you’ve forgotten I’m pregnant, but I am. And pregnant women frequently need to use the bathroom.”

As much as she wishes she could escape, she knows it’s impossible. Instead, she’s waiting for Leonie to come. Once Leonie is in the hospital, there’s a much higher chance that someone will manage to tamper with Leilani’s test results. Before she can go to the bathroom, the click-clack of high heeled shoes echoes down the hallway.

Leonie walks down the hall wearing her trademark pink dress with a pair of four-inch heels. She smiles sweetly at Waylen, and her cheeks dimple. She tosses her hair over her shoulder and shoots a sideways glance at Leilani.

“What a coincidence is running into you two here,” Leonie says. “Is Leilani getting a neonatal examination too?”

“Who let you in?” Waylen asks, frowning.

“I did,” shouts a regal voice.

Florence Bamford walks down the hall like an old queen surveying her kingdom. She sneers at Leilani and walks to stand by Leonie’s side, taking Leonie’s hand in her own.

“Leonie is also here for a neonatal examination,” Florence says. “The bodyguards at the door tried to stop us from entering, though. Waylen, you get more and more controlling every day. You want to stop other women from having the exam just because you and your mistress are here?”

“It’s okay, Mrs. Bamford,” Leonie stage whispers. “Leilani is having an important test done today—I’m sure Waylen is just worried about the results.”

Waylen barely glances at Leonie before turning to his bodyguard and saying, “Take Leonie to the nearest hospital for her examination.”

“Waylen, how can you ask a pregnant woman to run around from hospital to hospital?” Florence says. “Besides, the baby in Leonie’s belly is yours.”

“It’s alright, Mrs. Bamford,” Leonie says, wiping a fake tear from her eye. “I can go to another hospital. I’m exhausted, of course, but I’ll do what Waylen says.”

“No, I insist that you do it here,” Florence shouts.

Leilani looks down at her feet to hide her smile. Leonie: Mrs. Bamford always makes everything into a dramatic scene, she thinks. They’re so ridiculous, but they’re doing what I want them to do. They’re clearly here to tamper with my test results; otherwise, they wouldn’t be so determined to stay.

“What are you laughing at?” Florence snaps at Leilani. “You should be worrying about the bastard in your belly—not about us.”

“You don’t know that my baby is a bastard,” Leilani says calmly. “Besides, I’ve heard the rumors about Leonie. I’ve heard that her child is a bastard, too. But it’s not even Waylen’s.”

Leonie grinds her teeth and says, “How dare you!”

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