Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 118

Chapter 118 Maybe Jealous

Damian's eyes flew open, his gaze turning to ice.

"Ms. Whitmore?" Damian's voice dropped dangerously. "Who told you that?"

Killian froze, realizing his blunder too late.

He couldn't drag Beatrice into this—if Damian knew it came from her, she'd have hell to pay later.

Killian's mouth opened and closed like a fish. "I, uh—"

Damian quickly finished for him, his voice cold and mocking. "Beatrice told you, right?"

The woman who'd so sweetly wished him a pleasant weekend.

Sweating nervously, Killian swallowed hard.

Damian always saw through lies. Denial would only inflame him.

Killian surrendered with a sigh. "On Wednesday, you mentioned going to Solhaven Saturday but didn't explain why.

"Then Beatrice heard Ms. Whitmore posted about a 'Solhaven food trip' with her blind date this weekend. When we realized you're both going to Solhaven..." Killian trailed off weakly. "We connected the dots..."

Killian braced himself, shoulders hunching.

Ethan groaned from the driver's seat. "Jesus, Killian, just spit it out! Are you asking if Mr. Crowley's here to meet Ms. Whitmore? No, he's got real business here. And he's clearly not interested in her."

Killian went sheet-white.

A colossal misunderstanding.

Beside him, Damian's expression darkened dangerously.

The past two days' events crashed through Damian's mind.

He automatically reached to loosen a tie he wasn't wearing.

Without another word, Damian pulled out his phone and dialed Beatrice's number.

Beatrice and her group were at a rest stop when her phone buzzed.

Beatrice froze at Damian's name on her screen.

Damian?!

Why now?

Last-minute work again?

But shouldn't he be with Ms. Whitmore by now?

Questions tumbled chaotically through her mind.

She quickly stepped aside, moving somewhere quieter before answering softly, "Mr. Crowley?"

"Enjoying your weekend?" The icy sarcasm in his tone made her spine stiffen.

"It's been... pleasant." Her fingers tightened around the phone.

"Pleasant?" A dangerous pause. "From spreading lies about me, perhaps?"

Beatrice was completely baffled.

Huh? What?

At precisely that moment, Theodore's cheerful voice cut through, "Hey, Beatrice, try this cantaloupe!"

Startled, Beatrice quickly covered her phone, panicked—and accidentally disconnected the call.

Damian's grip on his phone turned white-knuckled.

The cheerful male voice—young, eager, intimate—still rang in his ears.

In the car, Ethan and Killian sat frozen.

The silence was suffocating.

Ethan mouthed, "Boyfriend?"

Killian's mind raced.

This is it. We're dead. Beatrice is dead. The world is ending.

Damian's voice was lethally quiet. "Killian."

Killian blurted, "I swear I didn't know! This is the first I've heard about her having a boyfriend!"

Damian glared at him fiercely, gaze razor-sharp.

After a long, tense silence, Killian cracked under the pressure and guiltily confessed, "Okay, fine! Gordon saw her leaving with some guy this morning—young, tall, probably a student!"

Ethan perked up curiously. "Young? How young—like underage?"

"No, of course not," Killian clarified quickly, shooting Ethan a frustrated look. "Gordon said tall, clean-cut—probably a college student."

"Whoa!" Ethan exclaimed dramatically, eyes wide. "So, she's keeping a university kid!"

Killian shot him a glare. "She's not keeping him. Come on, with her looks, she could have a dozen guys lined up just by smiling."

The interior of the car fell deadly silent, the temperature plunging lower with each passing second.

Killian nervously glanced forward, silently pleading with Ethan for help.

Ethan attempted to smooth things over—but made matters infinitely worse.

Beatrice explained nervously, "Damian's somewhere nearby."

"Wait—he's following us?" Violet gasped.

"No, he was always planning to come today," Beatrice clarified hastily.

They exchanged panicked looks, and Beatrice tugged Violet firmly by the arm. "Either way, let's just get out of here now."

Theodore peeled out of the rest area, tires screeching. In the backseat, Beatrice chewed her lip as she texted Killian: [Is Mr. Crowley upset about something?]

No reply.

Her stomach dropped when the tracking app showed Damian's car gaining on them. The blinking dot grew closer—too fast. Too purposeful.

"He's chasing us," she whispered.

Violet twisted in her seat. "Why would he—"

"A date," Beatrice cut in. "With Anastasia Whitmore."

"What? After the way he—" Violet broke off, mimicking a tight embrace. "The way he was with you the other night? What is he thinking, playing games?"

Beatrice said nothing.

Violet groaned, finally realizing why Beatrice had acted so strangely the previous day.

The car exited the highway.

Just as Beatrice was about to turn off her phone, she noticed Damian's car was catching up to theirs alarmingly fast.

Her heart nearly stopped—but once they exited the highway, the distance between their cars widened again.

Killian finally replied, somewhat vaguely. [Sorry, fell asleep. Mr. Crowley's fine. Why?]

Beatrice: [It's nothing. He just called me, and he sounded a bit off.]

Maybe I'm paranoid.

Same highway.

Ethan drives like a maniac. 

She swallowed the question about Damian's date.

Soon, their car arrived at their hotel in Solhaven.

As they approached the elevators with their room keys, Beatrice's gaze landed on a woman walking just ahead of them.

She looked oddly familiar...

Wait—is that Ms. Whitmore?