Seeing Donovan stubbornly dig in his heels and willfully deaf to her hints, Giselle shut off her hair dryer after her hair was half-dried.
"Don't you understand what 'leave' means?" she spat, "Or do you want me to call the cops on you for trespassing?"
Her hostility didn't seem to faze him at all. He simply treated it as her throwing a tantrum. "Move into my place today," he said in a low, steady voice.
"You're insane!" Giselle snapped. Then, she realized something ironic.
After enduring hell itself, her mind had stayed clear, yet the man before her seemed to have lost his completely. There was something disturbingly unhinged in the way he looked at her.
Still, Donovan patiently tried to persuade her to move into his villa. To him, the place had everything—a bunch of housekeepers, chauffeurs, and bodyguards.
It was also a secure neighborhood, which made it the safest place for someone who had just gone through a kidnapping. The only way he could breathe easy again was if she lived under his watch.
"I'm marrying Gideon," Giselle told him plainly, without any trace of spite. "We're filing the paperwork next week and settling down for good. I have zero interest in rehashing the past with you, so do us both a favor. Control yourself and stop these childish games."
Hearing that, Donovan remained eerily calm and unnervingly still. "I won't let you marry him," he said. His voice was quiet, but absolute, as if the matter had already been decided.
Giselle let out a cold laugh. "And who do you think you are?"
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