Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 103

hapter 103: Divine

Chapter 103: Divine

The expression on Grace’s face was so calm and so at peace that it truck Marco mercilessly. There was actual relief in her eyes, and it twisted inside him like a blade. She looked like a woman who had finally unburdened herself from a love that had only weighed her down for years. And that realization… it infuriated him.

It wasn’t just jealousy or frustration anymore. He had always take her love for granted, even though he had long known. He had worn it like armor when it suited him and pushed it away when it didn’t. And now? Now that he had finally realized he couldn’t breathe without her… she had stopped loving him.

And he couldn’t accept it.

With a rush of desperation, Marco’s hand shot up to her jaw, gripping it gently but firmly–tilting her face toward him so she could no longer look away. Her eyes widened in shock, her breath catching in her throat at the sudden movement.

“You… let me g-

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But her protest never made it past her lips.

Marco had abruptly closed the distance and kissed her forcefully. His lips were pressing against hers with a desperation that stunned her. It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t careful. It was the kind of kiss that screamed of all the words he never said, all the years he’d stood silent while she loved him with every piece of herself.

Grace gasped as her whole body stiffened under him. The contact shocked her to her core. Her hands instinctively tried to wiggle out of his hold, pulling–fighting. But his weight was on her, holding her down, not forcefully, but enough to keep her still.

Her mind spun. This was Marco. Marco, who had once said she disgusted him. Marco, who’d looked through her like she was invisible. And now he suddenly kisses her against her will? This sudden, desperate kiss felt like chaos.

Marco felt her struggle beneath him, and though he was reluctant to let go, something about the look in her eyes forced his grip to loosen. Slowly, he pulled back just enough to breathe, just enough to see her properly. His chest heaved with unsteady breaths, and his face hovered above hers, clouded with emotions too tangled to name. His eyes were dark and frantic, not with guilt, but desperation.

“I love you.” His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper. “I fell in love with you, Grace… and I won’t let you go through with this marriage.”

He finally let her go and rose to his feet, stepping back from the bed as if the space between them might calm the storm still raging in his chest. His hands fell uselessly to his sides before he glanced away and adjusted the cuffs of his shirt in a futile attempt to gather himself.

Grace who was still shaken, didn’t speak. She turned her back on him without a word, curling onto her side like she was trying to

hide herself from him.

He watched her for a long second as his eyes began tracing the slope of her back, the tension in her shoulders, and the way her fingers curled tightly into the sheets. Then he exhaled a long, resigned breath and stepped toward the door.

But just before leaving, he paused with one hand on the handle, and turned back to her without moving closer.

“I know you’re sulking,” he said. “But I also know you. And deep down, you still feel something for me. I know you do.”

“So don’t deny me that now,” he said in a low voice. “Not when you’ve managed to make me fall for you. Take responsibility, Grace.”

And with that, he stepped out, closing the door behind him with finality. The sound echoed like a punctuation mark leaving behind a silence so thick it pressed against the walls.

Only then did Grace realize she’d been holding her breath.

The moment the latch clicked shut, she gasped with her lungs trembling as if they’d been starved of air. Her body jolted upright

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Chapter 103 Divine

+25 BONUS

from the bed, knees pulled close as she wrapped her arms around herself. Her hands instinctively flew to her lips, fingertips shaking as they brushed the place he had touched without permission.

Her heart was still thudding violently, but not from romance or from anything remotely tender. She was clearly shocked at what had just happened.

“He… kissed me…” she whispered, as though saying it aloud would make it easier to process.

Her jaw clenched and anger swelled inside her.

“That selfish bastard,” she hissed under her breath. Her voice cracked with restrained fury as she grabbed the edge of her dress and used the fabric to furiously wipe her lips. It didn’t matter how ough her motions were she could still feel him there, still feel his breath, and his desire she no longer want.

Later that day, as the sun dipped lower into the horizon, the Blackwood estate came alive with motton. The golden light spilled over the stone courtyard, stretching shadows across the gravel as the household buzzed with frantic energy.

Bartholomew’s men lined the driveway in perfect formation, standing stiff and alert beside the sleek black cars polished to a mirror shine. The maids moved like clockwork, fluttering around Grace’s room with practiced hands and hushed voices. Powder, pins, silk, and satin. Every detail was carefully placed, every imperfection smoothed into elegance.

Meanwhile, Bartholomew stepped through the towering front doors of the mansion, his coat catching the breeze as he took in the sight before him. His cold gaze swept across the lined–up vehicles, his men, and finally Marco, who stood nearest the lead

car.

Bartholomew gave a subtle nod of approval.

“Where is she?” he asked flatly in a cold and commanding tone.

The head maid, who stood by the door with her hands clasped, gave a short, respectful bow.

“She’ll be down in a moment, sir.”

And as if on cue,

the double doors behind them creaked open once more.

All heads instantly snapped to her direction.

Grace stepped out with the poise of a queen. She wore a white satin gown that clung to her frame like a second skin–effortlessly elegant, yet daring in its design. A long slit ran from her upper thigh down, exposing the length of her right leg with every step she took, while her pearl–embellished high heels adorned her feet

A luxurious fur coat was draped over her shoulders. Her arms were covered in pristine satin gloves that reached past her elbows, carefully concealing the old scars no one ever dared to mention. The maids had done their work well–every bruise, every mark from days prior, now veiled beneath expertly applied full–coverage makeup, as if they’d never existed.

Her hair had been swept up into a neat, elegant bun, exposing the graceful line of her neck, which was adorned only with a thin silver necklace that caught the dying sunlight like a whisper. Her makeup was soft but striking: a rosy smokey eye that brought out the sharp glint in her gaze, a faint blush warming her cheeks, and glossy pink lips that shimmered like petals kissed by dew.

Graced looked divine.

And the world around her fell silent to stop and take notice.