Chapter 346

Vincent didn't take Hannah far. He stayed close at her side as they left the lavish suite together.

At last, Hannah's eyes traced the boundaries of the′′prrison" that held her. It wasn't some grand villa, but a private fortress-sleek, unyielding, and overwhelmingly secure. The air itself seemed heavy with vigilance.

Her gaze swept the walls and ceilings, spotting pinprick camera lenses cleverly concealed in corners,tucked into decorative niches, and hidden along the edges of the ceiling. No angle escaped the unblinking watch of the surveillance system. Every step she took fell within its sight.

At measured intervals, men in tailored black suits stood rooted like statues, their presence a silent warning that escape was not even a possibility.

Vincent kept a half-step at Hannah's side, his tall frame radiating a quiet, suffocating dominance. Though his eyes appeared to skim the corridor in casual indifference, their focus never wavered from her.

On the surface, Hannah walked with measured calm, her pace unhurried, but her fingers tightened around the cuffs of the oversized shirt she wore.

Beneath that stillness, her heart sank deeper and deeper, heavy with unease. A forceful escape? That was pure hell's fantasy-utterly impossible.

Vincent's voice, low and resonant, cut through the silence. "Whatever it is you want, just tell me." He tilted his head slightly, his sharp eyes catching her delicate profile. "As long as you stay here obediently."

Hannah froze mid-step, her breath catching in her throat. Lifting her chin with deliberate slowness, she met his gaze. "Anything at all?" she asked, her voice soft yet edged with quiet testing.

"That's right," Vincent confirmed, his stare unwavering, a smoldering weight that locked her in place.

Hannah's heart began to pound violently within her chest. This was the opening she had been waiting for.

Lowering her lashes, she concealed the fleeting spark of calculation that flickered in her eyes. Her tone

1.0.1

slipped into something shy, touched with a trace of reliance. "L.. I don't have anything to wear."

Her fingers toyed with the hem of the oversized black shirt draped over her frame-his shirt. "I can't keep walking around dressed in this forever."

She tilted her gaze toward him, a quiet plea gleaming against his unbreakable eyes. "I'd like to go out and buy some clothes. With you."

Vincent's piercing gaze remained locked on her, his answer coming with surprising ease. "Fine,"

For a heartbeat, she froze. Had he really agreed so quickly? The unexpectedness of it almost knocked the breath from her chest. This was her only chance. Among a crowd, she could slip away-freedom might finally be within reach.

Her heart hammered, threatening to betray her excitement. She pressed her lips together, willing her face into calm composure, softening her voice into one of measured surprise tinged with hope. "Then when do we leave?"

A hint of satisfaction curved his mouth, born from the thrill of keeping her within the palm of his hand.′′We′∥ go right now."

He then pivoted sharply and strode ahead, setting the pace without hesitation.

Yet, instead of veering toward the garage, he advanced deeper into the corridor, leading her straight toward the fortress's very front-the grand main hall.

A subtle crease formed between Hannah's brows, a chill of unease whispering through her chest. Still, the spark of hope was too imnmediate to abandon; she smothered her doubts and quickened her steps to keep close behind him.

They crossed beneath a wide arched doorway, and the space suddenly opened around her.

A sharp breath snagged in her throat. The sight that met her eyes rooted her to thefloor, as though the blood in her veins had frozen solid. Vincent had never intended to take her outside. What spread before her was not freedom, but a lavishly arranged surprise: the entire main hall transformed into a temporary,extravagant clothing showroom.

The expansive room had been neatly carved into several sections, each carefully curated. Along the edges,rows of professional attendants stood poised, every one immaculately styled, their polished smiles betraying no hint of fatigue as they waited for instructions.

Vincent gave a quiet clap, the sound sharp in the hall.

From a discreet side door, four young women stepped out in an orderly line. Though each possessed a different face, their silhouettes were eerily uniform-their height, curves, and proportions all a near mirror of Hannah's own.

"These will serve as your fittingmodels." Vincent's low voice brushed against her ear,threaded with the quiet dominance of someone who expected no refusal. "Their figures match yours almost exactly-height,shoulders, leg length... The difference won't exceed a centimeter."

With a sweep of his hand, he indicated the glittering display of clothes as though unveiling some ingenious creation. "Choose any style you fancy," he continued, his gaze steady on Hannah. "They'll try it on so you can see the effect for yourself. If anything pleases you, it's yours. Any adjustments you need, professionals will perfect to your specifications."

In his mind, this arrangement was not only seamless but surprisingly thoughtful. "This way, you'll be able to pick out everything you like in the fastest, most comfortable way possible."

Bang! It felt like something had detonated inside her skull. He was toying with her. He had never intended to take her outside.

Still, Hannah forced herself to stay composed. Her mind churned furiously, clawing for a way-out. She feigned irritation, adding a touch of fluster to her voice. "Sure, they can model these outfits for me-but what about undergarments? Am I supposed to have them try those on in my place too?"