Wrong Marriage and Sweet Love

The driver nervously glanced back, fearing that if Joyce’s hand slipped, the Crown Prince would die on the spot. Even if they died a thousand times, they couldn’t escape the blame.

“I have one bullet left in my gun, reserved just for you,” Joyce said, pressing the gun barrel harder. “Get out of the car. Have the driver open the door. You and I will get out together. Once I’m safe, I’ll let you go.”

She commanded.

But Clint remained motionless.

The driver held his breath.

Even if he opened the door, he had to follow the Crown Prince’s orders and couldn’t act on his own.

“Clint, did you hear me?! Don’t think I won’t do it. I won’t hesitate. Even if you’re the Crown Prince! I’m still a warlord’s heir! Killing you is a responsibility I can bear.”

Clint laughed. “Joyce, do you know why I don’t care?”

He elegantly extended his hands, gently caressing his wound with long fingers, indifferent to her words.

Joyce squinted her eyes. She knew something was wrong but couldn’t pinpoint what it was.

Desperate and taking risks, she had no choice but to hold him hostage.

Suddenly.

Joyce felt a sharp pain throughout her body.

The intense pain and suddenness made her unable to hold onto the gun.

At that moment, Clint raised his arm and easily disarmed her in a second.

With a click, he ejected the bullet from the chamber.

The handgun was now empty.

He tossed the empty gun onto Joyce and smiled slightly.

Then he instructed the driver, “What are you looking at? Keep driving home.”

From start to finish, Joyce couldn’t believe Clint had taken her gun. The reason was her sudden pain.

Why? It was simply inexplicable.

She clutched the empty gun, still feeling the pain from earlier. “Clint, what did you do to me?”

“Had enough?” Clint glanced at her. “I’ve tolerated you too much. Your actions have long crossed my line.”

Joyce squinted her eyes. “I don’t need your tolerance. We should mind our own business. What right do you have to kidnap me here? Let me return home immediately! Otherwise, you’ll be at odds with my Heath family warlords. If our countries clash, aren’t you afraid your position as Crown Prince will be shaken? You can’t bear those consequences either. Let me go now.”

Clint suddenly grabbed Joyce’s chin. “Do you know why you’re in pain?”

He extended his hand and waved it in front of her.

As he clenched his fingers.

Joyce immediately felt that sharp pain again.

Her beautiful eyes widened in disbelief as she stared at Clint. How could this be?

It wasn’t scientific.

“What did you do to me?” Joyce broke free from his grip and growled.

Something was terribly wrong. Clint was too strange.

“Heh.” Clint chuckled deeply.

“Could it be that there’s something wrong with the sacrificial ceremony earlier?” Joyce finally began to suspect the ceremony; everything was too abnormal.This content is © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Have you heard of East Lands’ dark arts?” Clint asked calmly.

Joyce frowned. “What kind of nonsense is that?”

East Lands’ dark arts?

She didn’t believe in such unscientific things at all.

Clint extended a hand again, this time pulling her close without any courtesy.

His long fingers played with her hair, more like admiring than playing with it.

He seemed to appreciate his possession.

Slowly, he spoke, “I can make you hurt or make you die, but of course, I can’t bear to let that happen. You can only belong to me. Joyce, you’re mine now.”

Joyce’s lips trembled in shock.

She questioned in a trembling voice, “The sacrificial ceremony earlier wasn’t for worshipping at all. It was your prepared dark ritual? The shaman cut my arm and your palm so our blood would mix together and complete the ritual. Is that it? You brought me back to East Palace not for any sacrificial ceremony but for East Lands’ dark arts? Is that it?”

“Exactly, you’re smart enough to figure it all out quickly. But what good does it do? Joyce, it’s too late.”

Clint’s long fingers brushed against her delicate cheek; his possessive gaze fixed on her face.

“Don’t worry; every seven days, I’ll give you an antidote.”

He paused and suddenly leaned close to Joyce’s ear, blowing gently and lowering his voice.

“If we merge our bodies and souls every seven days, there won’t be a need for an antidote. You heard right; it’s exactly what you’re thinking.”

He laughed wickedly and arrogantly.

“What!”

Joyce felt a chill down her spine; he actually used dark arts to control her.

Even if she had a gun or could communicate with the outside world or find anyone for help, it would be useless.

Because she was already under his dark spell control.

She didn’t believe in ghosts or gods; she didn’t believe that witchcraft existed in this world.

But now she had no choice but to believe it.

“Haha.” Clint was in a good mood as his long fingers brushed past her cheek. “Be good and don’t cause trouble. I can’t bear to see you in pain.”

Joyce involuntarily clenched her hands and gritted her teeth.

This man wasn’t ordinary; he couldn’t be provoked at all.