Chapter 377

Vincent observed Hannah "forcing" her way past the dense throng,each step toward him marked by"evident strain."

Acting without thinking, he moved forward and clamped his hand tightly around her wrist.

Hannah's brows drew together ever so faintly at his grip,but she said nothing.

Vincent's gaze drilled into her. "Where were you?"

She raised the plastic sack carrying the fish, her expression composed."I went to buy a fish. You're fond of grilled grouper,aren't you?" Her voice carried an ease as if they were discussing the weather, her eyes steady as they met his. "I noticed some fresh ones over there,so I bought one."

Her eyes flicked over the turmoil surrounding them."But when I returned to look for you, you weren't standing in the ice cream line anymore. Then, an announcement mentioned some malfunction and crowd regulation. Chaos broke out after that.I've been searching for you since then."

Vincent's tone came sharp, underpinned with skepticism."You weren't attempting to flee?"

Hannah blinked, seemingly caught off guard. Calculated pain flickered across her face. "You thought I ran away?"

"Yes." The syllable rasped from his throat like a growl.His stare fixed upon her, dissecting every nuance of her expression.

She looked back at him, the measured hurt shifting into a mixture of disbelief and outrage. She jerked her wrist,

mixture of disbelief and outrage. She jerked her wrist,struggling against his grasp. Her voice shook with both hurt and exasperation. "Vincent! That's outrageous! I only went to buy a fish! I've been scouring that chaotic crowd looking for you!l was terrified! Escaping never once crossed my mind!"

Before her words even finished spilling, Vincent's grip of her wrist suddenly slackened. But in the very next moment, his arm shot forward,yanking her violently into his chest.

Hannah didn't see it coming. Her forehead collided with his solid chest in a muted thump. His arms encircled her with such intensity thatit felt as though he meant to bury her within his very frame.

"Ugh..." she exhaled a stifled gasp, fighting for air.

Vincent's chin pressed down against the crown of her head. His chest rose and fell with uneven force. "You had better not have tried to run," he whispered in a lowN, menacing growl.

Inside, Hannah's laughter was icy, but outwardly, she didn't resist-she remained still. She angled her head slightly, chin resting against his chest, her voice muffled yet edged with playful defiance. "Since you don't trust me, what about l attempt torun away now for you to see?"

"Don't you dare!" The words came out almost as a snarl, his arms tightening like steel bands. "Hannah, don't even think about it."

He allowed no reply. Breaking the embrace, he caught her wrist once again-unyielding-and dragged her toward the supermarket exit. His stride was swift. Burning.

Hannah dropped her gaze, veiling the glimmer of frozen contempt in her eyes. The harsher his grip became, the more she longed to wrench herself free. Following the supermarket turmoil, life within the secluded estate resumed its ordinary tranquility.

Hannah wasn't confined strictly to the suite, her movement expanding to the estate's shared spaces.

But one shift was evident-Vincent began showing himself more often.

Previously, he returned merely for dinner without fail,though at times, work obligations or late appointments delayed him.Now, however, he had started returning for lunch as well,nearly every day

Hannah betrayed no outward response, but she grasped the truth-Vincent fretted she might run again. Surveillance shadowed her constantly. Her attempt to locate her mother had grown far more difficult. But she uncovered one place that might conceal the answers she sought. Vincent's study.

That day, after lunch, Vincent left the estate as usual for something about a vital international engagement.

Hannah lingered by the tall windows, though her mind rested solely on that study. This was a rare opening. She rose unhurriedly, composed, and strolled casually toward the study.

As her hand stretched for the brass knob, the butler's voice broke the stillness from behind her.′′Mrs. Jones, are you trying to enter the study?"

Hannah didn't waver. Her reply was light, as though the notion were an idle fancy. "Yes, I only hoped to find a book on orchid care. I assumed there could be one in there."

The courteous smile of the butler, Alfred Penrose, didn't falter.Polite as always. Deferential as ever. "Mrs. Jones, I am afraid that you couldn't get in. Mr. Jones left explicit orders-no one is permitted into the study without his approval."