No More Waiting, She Chooses Love



Watching the game? More like they're planning to use me as a pawn to force Jefferson to win.

Looks like there's no way I'm getting out of here until the game is over.

Well, if that's how it's gonna be, then I might as well make the best of it.

Truth be told, I had already calmed down. My little phone-smashing tantrum was just for show, a performance for Henrik.

He had tampered with my phone, so he knew all my messages and calls. Destroying it seemed like the only way to keep him from snooping.

I had already caused a scene, and Henrik even had his maid inform me, so continuing to make a fuss was pointless.

So, I stepped out onto the balcony for some fresh air, only to be struck by the view.

The massive balcony overlooked the entire estate, surrounded by lush greenery. There was a golf course, an outdoor snooker table, a huge swimming pool, and a garden within the estate.

Henrik was down there playing, and when he saw me, he waved, "Hey, girl, fancy a game?"

I thought of Brown, who had challenged me to a game, although I wasn't sure what the connection between Brown and Henrik was. One thing was certain, though: Henrik would easily outplay Brown.

Dealing with Brown was one thing, but his legion of fans was another matter entirely. They were rabid, capable of anything.

The only way to calm them down was if Brown spoke up, and Henrik was the key to making that happen.

I stood there on the balcony, hearing him but not responding.

"I hear you're good at this. Beat me, and maybe I'll let you go early," Henrik offered, tempting me.

I was just a casual player against Conrad and Jefferson. When did I get such a reputation that these guys wanted to challenge me?

I could tell Henrik was itching for a game, but the more he wanted it, the less I was inclined to agree. "No deal. What if I actually win and you get so mad you decide to off me?"

Henrik laughed. "Girl, you really are something. I promise I won't kill you. And if you win, I'll grant you any request."

I couldn't help but smirk. Turns out, even the old fox can be outsmarted.

"Your word on it?" I pressed.

Henrik gestured to the maids and gardeners around, "They're all witnesses."

Despite his assurance, I didn't nod. Instead, I leaned lazily against the railing, "And if I lose?"

"That would be expected. No one has beaten me yet," Henrik boasted.

"So, if I lose, no big deal. But if I win, you'll meet any demand," I clarified once more.

"Yeah, come on down," he beckoned with a hook of his finger.

I had Henrik on the ropes for a bit, which felt like enough, so without another word, I went downstairs.

Henrik looked over my outfit and said, "Ugly. Why not wear something from the wardrobe?"

"I don't like them," I answered straight up.

Henrik smiled, seemingly indulgent

wear it. Girls should don't eight, if you don't like it,

of me,

want."

what they

His words were oddly comforting, like Ernest used to be to me.

Thinking of him, I realized why I couldn't let go of Ernest even though he had given up on me. It wasn't about holding on or letting go; it was his kindness that kept resurfacing in my mind.

But I knew I had to move on from him.

Feeling a tightness in my chest, I approached the snooker table and looked at the balls, "What's the game?"

"Standard rules. Whoever clears the table first wins."

I was about to agree when Henrik,

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ever so confident, added, "Since you're a girl, I'll let you start, and I'll give you a three-ball head start."

If he wanted to play the gentleman, I'd let him. "Alright, how many rounds to decide the winner?"