Breaking Mr. Cold (Giselle and Donovan) novel Chapter 253

Giselle forced herself to add, "The scenery here is beautiful, the air is fresh… It's quite a beautiful place. I could stay forever, as long as you don't kill me."

Orin snorted and fell silent.

She realized that when this man, who had taken so many lives, was calm, he didn't seem much different from an ordinary man, and he wasn't as terrifying.

He wasn't bad-looking either. He was in his late 30s, and he stood about 5'10" with a strong, solid build. His face was lean, his features sharp and defined from his Solbourne-Malithorn heritage. His deep-set eyes were small but intense.

A faint scar ran along the right side of his face, slightly undercutting his looks. His skin was dark from years of bloodshed, and his very presence radiated a somber, menacing force that made people drop their gaze.

From what she had gathered, he'd once been part of an anti-government militia, fighting on the battlefield for years. Then, for reasons unknown, he abandoned his cause and chose the path of crime to fill his pockets.

Still, even when he seemed calm, she knew he could send her straight to hell in the next breath.

Giselle didn't dare lower her guard or show the slightest hint of wanting to escape. Instead, she committed the route to memory in silence.

Fortunately, she had a strong memory. Even with just a glance, she could recall the general directions and landmarks with ease.

Just then, Orin inquired, "You don't look like an idiot. How did you get trafficked out of your country?"

Giselle couldn't help but find his question ironic. A man who trafficked women for a living was asking her how she'd been trafficked.

Half an hour later, the car pulled up in front of the county hospital. Calling it a county was a stretch; this place was more like a small, worn-down town, with clusters of low buildings, narrow streets packed with vendors, and an endless flow of people.

It was the first time in ages that she'd been somewhere that felt even remotely lively. Everywhere she looked, there were people—locals shopping at the market, street vendors calling out prices, security guards in uniform, some on tricycles, others on electric scooters, and cars weaving through the crowd. They all looked so normal.

Her heart, which had been calm only moments ago, suddenly started pounding when she saw them. When she thought of the living hell she had been trapped in and compared it to this bustling daylight, filled with living, breathing people, she couldn't help but think these people were her lifeline.

Just then, she noticed a security booth across the street, with two uniformed officers casually chatting inside. At that moment, Orin, who had been right at her side, was now three feet away, answering a call with his back to her.

Was this the only chance she would ever get? Her heart raced so fast it felt like it would leap out of her throat.