Sentenced to Marriage by MadlainQ

Chapter 93

His friends

I was still extremely pissed at Jack and Chris for treating me this way, but apparently, my glaring daggers at them only brought them more amusement. Luckily, the tape Chris used wasn’t too strong, and I finally managed to glue off the piece that was gagging me.

“Seriously guys?!” I yelled. “You could have told me what you were planning, not kidnap me!”

Chris, who was driving the car, snorted. “Really? Do you want us to believe that you would willingly leave your husband even if you haven’t left the clinic for the last eight days?”

I wanted to protest, but when I opened my mouth I realized that there was no way I would have left Aren. I already felt anxious, as I had left his room nearly ten minutes ago, wondering if he had started to wake up while I was away from him.

“I don’t want him to see that I’m not there when he wakes up…” I mumbled.

Jack, who was sitting in the passenger’s front seat, turned around and looked at me with a frown. “Cora, you must be aware that this is insane. He would never have blamed you for going away, sleeping, resting… or drinking with us.”

“Although I wouldn’t be so sure about that last one,” Chris added, smirking.

momentary fun while he was unconscious. Yet then I reminded myself that I used to think the same way when my Grandma fell into a coma. I used to sleep by her bed as well. Then I spent hours talking to her every day, but after a while, I had to move

us pass the Brooklyn Bridge. “We’re going to my place,” Chris

instead of those combat pants… which didn’t bring me any closer to finding out anything more about him. I knew that Aren trusted him, and that made me trust him as well, but that didn’t change the fact that I wanted to punch him for using such methods on me. Once we’d arrived at the spot, I finally got untied. As I got out of the car, I realized that we had stopped in front of one of the fancy apartment buildings. That only made me raise my eyebrows, wondering if it truly was the place Chris lived. Five minutes later, it turned out that not only did he live there, but he owned the entire building. He inhabited the top-floor apartment, which looked almost as expensive as Aren’s penthouse. I

confusion. “Get yourself comfortable on the sofas near the balcony. Food and drinks are coming in just a moment,” he said, pointing

spot deeper

and pulled me into the apartment.

corner of the hall that opened to a big kitchen. He sat on the

noticed my surprise and quickly explained, “Chris is half-Scottish and half-Italian. His father was a soldier, so I guess that his fighting abilities are from him, but his Italian mother taught him how to cook, and

I must have resembled a lost puppy as I watched him finally put the pasta on the plates. I

the wine.” Chris poured me a glass of Sauvignon Blanc, observing in amusement how

plate was empty, and he and Jack were looking at me, barely stifling their laughter. I could remember the last time I enjoyed eating that much. I hardly recalled what I had been eating from the moment Aren fell into a coma, but I would certainly remember Chris’s

pouring me more wine. I was more than eager to shift the attention away from me and my condition and finally asked, “So Chris… what is it that you do for a living exactly?

Jack interjected, “Chris is just the luckiest son of a bitch on the planet when it

smug grin. “What can I say? I’m good at cards. I won a lot of money, playing on my university’s campus, and then at the casino. I was planning to spend that money on some useless things, but then I got a new roommate, a smart guy who was planning to start his own business. I ended up investing all of my money in him.. And

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