Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 106

Chapter 106: Enigma.

“You always carry yourself like you were born for this,” Ulysses sal with an amused smile while resting his elbow on the back of her chair. “Not a single misstep.”

”

Grace glanced at him with her usual calm expression. “That’s because missteps are rarely forgiven in families like ours.” Ulysses chuckled, clearly drawn to her composure. “I can’t tell if that’s wisdom or warning.”

“A little of both,” she replied, gently placing her wine glass back on the table.

Ulysses studied her for a moment. His eyes lingered, not just in admiration but with a certain pride, as though she already belonged to him. Without asking, he reached to readjust the fur draped across her shoulders, his fingers brushing the fabric lightly.

“You’ll catch a chill,” he said softly.

Grace didn’t flinch, though her gaze remained ahead. “Thank you she replied simply, accepting the gesture without leaning into it.

Ulysses smiled wider, clearly pleased. “I’ll take care

of

you, Grace. You’ll never need to worry about anything once we’re married.

Grace lifted her glass again, masking her expression behind the rim as she took a slow sip. Her eyes didn’t leave his, and yet, they looked distant as though she was present, but her thoughts were elsewhere.

She set the glass down with a soft clink and answered. “That’s a generous promise.”

Ulysses leaned in slightly. “Not a promise. A fact.”

She gave a faint smile as the corners of her lips curved just enough to be polite. But in her head, his words circled like a riddle missing half its pieces. ‘So good treatment only happens once married? Not before? Not during courtship?‘

But Grace knew better than to ask aloud. After all, this wasn’t love. It wasn’t a courtship between two people discovering each other. It was an arrangement. Their marriage was merely a signature, not a sentiment. And Ulysses, for all his charm and eloquence, was playing the part he’d been groomed to play.

Still, she wondered–what would he have been like if they’d met under different terms? Would he have courted her differently? Or was this it? A handful of compliments, an occasional touch to the back, and the confidence that once she wore his ring, the rest would simply fall into place?

“You don’t look convinced,” he said softly, studying her.

“I don’t believe in guarantees,” she replied evenly.

“You don’t have to,” he said with certainty. “Just trust that I do.”

Grace held his gaze, unflinching. “Trust is earned.”

Ulysses chuckled softly, clearly unfazed by Grace’s calm and collected response. “Then I’ll earn it,” he said, a bit too confidently.

She parted her lips, perhaps to respond with yet another remark, when the sudden flicker of the lights above interrupted the moment. Within a heartbeat, the entire hall was consumed by darkness and chaos.

Chairs scraped harshly against the marble floor. Boots thundered as trained guards surged to their feet. Metal clicked as safeties were flicked off and weapons drawn. The collective instinct of two powerful families‘ men kicked into action as tension snapped through the air like a drawn wire.

“Secure the room!” barked one of Bartholomew’s chief security men.

Within seconds, the Castellano and Blackwood guards positioned themselves and created a protective barrier around their

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respective leaders. Every man was on edge.

“Grace?” Ulysses called sharply as his land reached toward where he had been seated beside him.

But she was gone.

His chair toppled behind him as he turned frantically, scanning the dim outlines of the room.

Meanwhile, Marco was already in motion.

Without hesitation, he swept the safety off his firearm as his eyes darted across the now–shadowed hall. His heart pounded relentlessly in his chest as he advanced.

“Grace!” he called frantically out of fear. “Grace, where are you?!”

But there was no answer. Not even the rustle of fabric.

And that silence was deafening.

Then, out of nowhere, barely audible over the tense shuffle of bodies and whispers–a soft, unmistakable sound of Grace’s voice came as a gasp.

Marco instantly froze.

His trained senses honed in on the noise. It hadn’t come from the center of the hall. No, it was farther back, closer to the edge of the room, near the grand archway partially obscured by shadows.

His grip on his weapon tightened as he advanced with

Meanwhile, across the room, Grace stood paralyzed in the embrace of a stranger.

A gloved hand covered her mouth muffling any sound she might have made. His other arm was wrapped around her waist but not with brute force.

His grip wasn’t rough. He didn’t shove or drag her. His posture remained composed, every movement deliberate and smooth, almost too careful like this wasn’t an act of violence.

And yet, what unsettled Grace the most wasn’t the way he restrained her.

It was the warmth of him.

Familiar and comforting.

The press of his chest against her back didn’t carry threat, but memory. There was no malice in his hold–just gentleness. It felt less like a kidnapping and more like… an embrace.

Then, he leaned down, letting his lips brush the curve of her ear as he spoke in his low and velvety voice

“Good evening, princess…”

Her eyes widened in shock. The words alone were enough to unnerve her–but the voice…

She knew that voice.

It wasn’t merely familiar. It was intimate.

It curled around her like smoke, making her breath hitch in her throat, but not from fear.

She should have been terrified.

And yet, she stood still, transfixed by the sound of him.

Marco’s footsteps neared towards them, his body drawn tight as he scanned every angle of the room. His hand trembled slightly against the cold steel of his firearm.

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Chapter 106: Enigma

Grace!” he shouted again, louder this time, his voice cracking at the edge. “Say something! Where are you?!”

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The stranger chuckled under his breath at the sight of a confused Marco. His gloved land slid from her mouth as he whispered to her once more.

“Let me take you out of here quietly,” he whispered, his breath warm against her skin.

It should have terrified her. Logic screamed that she ought to fight scream, struggle against the unknown. But for reasons she couldn’t name, her body remained calm and somehow… obedient the man.

There was something disarming about the way he held her as though he wasn’t trying to steal her away, but save her from something worse.

And then, without warning, she felt herself being lifted.

Her breath caught as the man’s arms slid beneath her knees and around her back. He scooped her up in one fluid motion, careful, secure. Not like a criminal making a grab for a prize but like someone carrying something precious.

And she didn’t resist.

She didn’t even flinch. It just felt… natural.

As the cold air from the open side doors brushed against her legs and the deep shadows swallowed them whole, Grace wasn’t sure what stunned her more. Was it the silence that followed… or the safety she felt in the arms of a stranger.

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