No More Waiting, She Chooses Love



Henrik's words were not to be taken lightly. As promised, I didn't catch a glimpse of him until the day of the big game, when he mentioned that Ernest would be showing up. By then, I had lost all anticipation; disappointment had weathered away even the deepest of affections, proven by my past with Conrad and now with Ernest.

Henrik returned on the third day, just as the sun was painting the sky with shades of dawn. I was lounging on the porch swing, absorbed in the serene morning when I spotted him below, signaling me with a wave. Dressed in a light coffee-colored suit paired with casual white slacks, he was holding a bouquet of white roses. His towering height, coupled with his physique, could easily put world-renowned models to shame.

"Hey, girl, come down," he called out to me.

Descending the steps, I was immediately enveloped in his embrace as he handed me the flowers, "Good morning, princess."

Western men sure knew their romance. Despite Ernest showering me with affection, his love was always more reserved, never quite as fervent in his embraces.

However, I wasn't accustomed to Henrik's embrace and gently pushed him away, "Let's keep it proper, no unnecessary touching."

It seemed like the more defiant I was, the more amused Henrik became, probably because people of his status were so used to compliance that my resistance was a refreshing change.

"Ah, keeping it proper, I see," he chuckled, making his way to the sofa.

Following him, I inquired about the match, "When do we head out?"

"There's no rush. They can't start without me," he said, not shying away from his influence over the event.

It was an open secret that not just snooker but many competitive sports were subject to manipulation. Thinking about how such actions robbed hardworking athletes of their fair chance filled me with indignation, "Henrik, does it not bother your conscience, meddling like this?"

"At first, it did. But you get used to it," he admitted, which only fueled my frustration.

Despite being virtually confined to his estate, spending my days on the porch trying to make peace with my situation, the underlying tension and restlessness only intensified with every word he spoke...Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

"You're heartless!" I stormed off towards my room.

"Do you need a change of scenery?" Henrik suddenly asked.

"Considering you've had me here for three days, what do you think?" I retorted.

As I reached for the door, he added, "Then get ready. I'll take you to meet someone."

My grip on the doorknob tightened, heart racing at the thought. I hesitantly asked, "Jefferson?"

What I truly wanted to ask was if it was Ernest, but I couldn't let Henrik see my lingering concern for him, not wanting to give him any leverage against Ernest.

Even though my feelings for Ernest had faded, I didn't wish harm upon him, especially not from Henrik.

"You'll find out," Henrik teased, keeping the mystery alive.

At his estate, he called the shots. So, I changed and followed him out.

"Not bad, looking good," Henrik commented as he surveyed my outfit.

I had opted for a crisp white blouse paired with high-waisted black trousers. Comfort over style, I chose

Srs over heels, much t

Henrik's amusement.

"This outfit's nice, but the shoes..." he remarked, his expression a mix of amusement and disbelief.

"Comfort," I replied succinctly, silencing any further comments.

After all, he had said to wear whatever I liked. As long as I was comfortable, that was all that mattered.

Despite being held captive, my time

with Henrik was far from tense. In fact, I found myself pushing boundaries, challenging him, and even stepping on his toes, figuratively speaking.

"As long as you're comfortable... But," Henrik's gaze narrowed, "aren't you worried about being outshone by Ernest's fiancée?"