Obsession His Runaway Bride (Noelle and Adrian) novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80: Hollow

Chapter So: Hollow

After Grace’s outburst, she hadn’t stepped foot outside her room for the next three days.

At first, no one questioned it. She was known to be stubborn, known to shut people out when she was pissed. But as time passed, what started as mild annoyance turned into concern. The maids had knocked, calling her name softly. They left trays of food and water outside her door, only for them to remain untouched. Someone even tried slipping a note under the door, but there was no response. It was as if she had disappeared.

Her father had stood outside her door at one point but he didn’t knock. He didn’t speak. He simply stood there for a few minutes, then turned and walked away.

And Marco–he had been trying to ignore it.

Trying to tell himself that she was fine, that she was just being dramatic, that any second now, she’d burst out of that room like nothing had happened. Maybe she’d be in one of her moods, barking orders, demanding a drink, or throwing herself into work just to avoid whatever the hell was eating at her.

But she didn’t.

And as the silence stretched into the third day, an uncomfortable weight settled over the house. The usual energy Grace carried, the fire, the presence that made her impossible to ignore was gone

And Marco hated it.

When the fourth day rolled in, he couldn’t stand it anymore.

Marco stormed through the hallway as his heavy boots echoed against the hardwood floors. When he reached her door, he didn’t hesitate. He raised a fist and knocked, hard.

“Grace.”

But there was no response.

His jaw clenched. He knocked again, louder this time.

“Open the damn door.”

Yet, another silence.‘

A slow exhale pushed past his lips as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Enough of this shit, Grace,” he muttered, his voice lowering. “You’ve been locked in here for three days. If you think I’m just going to stand here and wait for you to come out, you’re wrong.”

But still nothing.

A cold feeling crept down his spine.

She was in there. That much he knew. No one had seen her leave. But the silence and the complete lack of movement inside somehow made him uncomfortable.

And so he pressed his palm flat against the door and listened. But not even the sound of her shifting in bed, not even the soft rustle of sheets was heard.

Something was wrong.

His stomach twisted, and without a second thought, he stepped back, squared his shoulders-

And kicked the door open.

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Chapter 9 Haley

+25 BONUS

The door slained open with a force that raffled the walls and the first thing Marzo noticed was the smell.

The thick, metallic stench of blood hit him. His stomach clenched and his pulse hammered as his eyes swept the room. The bed was untouched, the covers perfectly in place. No sign of her.

Then his gaze snapped toward the bathroom door.

It was closed.

Without thinking, Marco bolted across the room. His chest tightened as his mind raced through every worst possibility, his fingers curling into fists. He didn’t knock. He didn’t hesitate. He reared back and kicked the door open.

And the second it banged against the wall, his breath caught in his throat.

There–soaked in a bathtub filled with blood–red water, was Grace

For a terrifying moment, he thought she was dead.

She was still. Too still. Her skin looked paler than he had ever seen it, her lips nearly colorless, and from the edge of the tub, thick red drips hit the tiled floor in slow, steady beats. His chest squeezed painfully as a cold panic gripped his entire body.

But then, her eyes suddenly fluttered open.

Weakly and lazily as they shifted toward him.

“Oh,” she murmured in a hollow tone. “Is it that time already?”

Before he could even process what she meant, she suddenly sat up. The movement sent ripples through the darkened water. Marco took a sharp step forward, ready to reach for her, to pull her out, to do something. But he stopped.

Because Grace, without an ounce of hesitation, without a flicker of concern, stood up and turned the shower on, letting the clean

water rinse the blood from her skin.

Marco could only watch in complete and utter shock as she calmly stepped out, wrapping herself in a towel like this was just another part of her nightly routine. She reached for the gauze in the cabinet and began wrapping the cuts on her arms with the same indifference as someone bandaging a scraped knee.

Then, without sparing him a glance, she walked past him.

“Sorry ‘bout the mess,” she said flatly, already heading for her dresser. “I’ll have someone clean it up later.”

She pulled out a pair of fresh clothes and got dressed.

Marco turned slowly, his fists clenched so tight his nails dug into his palms. His mouth felt dry, his heart still slamming against

his ribs.

His voice came out lower than he expected, raw and heavy.

“What… did you do to yourself?”

She didn’t look at him. She only shrugged, slipping on her shirt.

“It helps me sleep.”