Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 109

Chapter 109 Have I Lost My Mind

"Really?" Beatrice's expression wavered between laughter and tears. "But everyone says that the wicked live the longest—the worse someone is, the longer they survive."

Damian gave her a pointed look. "Who do you trust more—them or me?"

"You," Beatrice replied without hesitation, though she didn't dare say otherwise.

Besides, there was something inherently trustworthy about the way he spoke.

Damian slowed the car and glanced at her again, smirking as his voice softened. "That's all I needed to hear."

Those words held an almost magical power.

Beatrice felt a warm glow in her chest, as if she'd just been welcomed into some exclusive circle.

Have I completely lost my mind for trusting my boss this much?

She looked out the window and realized they were heading toward the office. "Um, could you drop me off at the curb? I can walk in by myself."

"What, are you embarrassed to be seen with me at work?" Damian teased.

Beatrice stayed silent.

"You're getting really good at being totally ungrateful, you know that?"

"Stop, okay? I was wrong!" she conceded.

In the end, they didn't pull over as she'd hoped. Instead, the car headed straight for the company garage.

The whole time, Beatrice remained on high alert, her eyes darting around like a spy on a mission.

She realized she wasn't just worried about office gossip—she actually felt guilty, like she was getting away with something she shouldn't.

Just when Beatrice thought no one had noticed them and she was in the clear, she stepped out of the passenger seat, trying her best to appear normal.

Then, from a car just two spaces away, someone else got out.

They both turned their heads at the same time, their eyes locking.

"Mr. Thomas," Beatrice said, her smile as stiff as ever.

Dylan was about to respond when he saw who was getting out of the driver's seat.

His eyes instantly widened in horror.

Beatrice watched as Dylan glanced between her and the person behind her, his face crumpling into a look of utter devastation—as though he were witnessing the downfall of his beloved leader at the hands of some seductive temptress.

Within half a day, rumors would be flying through the entire company—"Ms. Lawson's got Mr. Crowley driving her around," "Ms. Lawson's power move worked perfectly," and "Mr. Crowley's spoiling Ms. Lawson without a second thought."

Beatrice heaved an internal sigh.

In the elevator, Dylan flashed a knowing smile at Beatrice. "So, Ms. Lawson, you and Mr. Crowley happen to be going the same way?"

Beatrice started to respond, "We live in—"

Before she could finish, Damian cut in with a flat tone. "Do we really need to tell you whether we're living together or not?"

Dylan's eyes nearly popped out of his head.

They're already living together?

Beatrice's body tensed in shock.

What the hell?

Seriously?

Is he actually spreading rumors about us himself?

She rushed to explain, "Mr. Thomas, please don't misunderstand. We live in the same neighborhood, not together."

Dylan nodded along. "Oh, right, got it."

But internally, he wasn't buying it.

Don't bother explaining.

If Mr. Crowley himself said it that way, even if you're not living together, you're definitely sleeping together!

Beatrice was at a loss for words.

She was about to try explaining again when she noticed Dylan typing away on his phone.

She sneaked a peek and caught the words "Mr. David Crowley."

Holy shit!

"Mr. Thomas!" she shouted angrily by his ear.

Dylan jumped, quickly tucking his phone away.

The elevator had conveniently reached his floor, and he hurried out.

Beatrice stepped forward, intending to follow him. She felt she absolutely needed to clear things up with Dylan before the situation spiraled even further out of control.

She had barely lifted her foot when Damian yanked her back. "Where do you think you're going? This isn't our floor."

The elevator doors slid shut again.

"But he was texting Mr. David Crowley!" Beatrice protested.

"You think this is the first time he's done that?" Damian raised an eyebrow.

Beatrice fell silent.

Killian seemed to sense her panic. "Just be careful, okay?"

They both fell silent.

Beatrice made her way to Damian's office with a sense of dread, feeling as if she were walking through a minefield.

This was only the second time she'd had to wake him from his afternoon nap since the whole Shauzhark incident.

The last time, getting him up had been... complicated, to say the least.

But then she thought about Killian dealing with this drama every day, and suddenly, it didn't seem so bad.

What was she even worried about?

After surviving the nightmare that was yesterday, waking Damian up should be nothing. When she pushed open the door to the break room, planning to simply call out to wake him, she stopped dead in her tracks.

He was wearing earplugs!

Is he actually trying to block us from waking him?

As a new wave of sympathy for what Killian must have endured all these years washed over her, Beatrice bent down and carefully reached to remove the earplugs.

Her fingers brushed against his ear as she gently worked them out and set them aside.

Learning from her painful experience last time, she positioned herself a bit farther from his face and called out loudly, "Mr. Crowley, time to wake up!"

The room remained completely silent.

Not even a twitch came from her sleeping beauty of a boss.

Beatrice stood there, confused.

She had practically shouted at a volume that would have had her neighbor three doors down banging on the wall.

Yet Damian remained completely dead to the world.

Can a person actually sleep this deeply?

She tried calling out twice more, raising her voice each time, but then it hit her—Damian might be unconscious!

Beatrice seriously doubted he wasn't awake, though.

This was pure and simple... laziness!

She glanced around the room and spotted a pair of cufflinks on the nightstand.

Maybe I should... poke him with one?

Beatrice couldn't help but laugh awkwardly at her own thought.

Ha, wonder if that would get me fired?