Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 81

Daddy’s Naughty Girl

A BILLIONAIRE

After the greakup

~ CAFTER DEATH THE C- BILLIONAIRE’S WIFE

Warning: 18+ only. Featuring hardcore taboo and age–gap erotica.

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Trapped in The Boss’s Embrace

Chapter 81 Maniac

Desmond’s fist clenched as he slowly raised his arm.

“Desmond, stop!” Beatrice grabbed his sleeve in panic. The last thing she needed was office gossip about Desmond punching Damian over her. She could already imagine the whispers that would follow her through NobleQuest’s hallways.

Desmond turned to her, his eyes swimming with practiced grief.

His look said it all. So he’s all that matters now? You really are cold.

Beatrice fought the urge to roll her eyes. Seriously? We’re divorced. One day and you’ve already forgotten? What part of ‘ex–wife‘ is confusing?

He let out a dramatic, wounded laugh.

She plastered on a fake smile. Poor baby. Must be so hard being

you.

They exchanged a silent look. One was playing the victim. The other had long since grown immune.

Desmond turned, and while everyone tensed, ready to intervene, he simply reached for a bottle and grabbed a glass.

Damian’s eyes narrowed to slits.

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“Mr. Crowley, I apologize for my behavior. I’ll take my

punishment–three drinks.” Desmond poured himself a glass and knocked it back. Then another. And another.

The room fell into stunned silence.

They thought Desmond was about to throw punches, but instead, he admitted fault.

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Desmond was known for his pride among Cloudia’s elite. If not for business, seeing Damian show up with his ex–wife would’ve had him grabbing Damian by the collar.

Quentin, who had spent ten minutes convincing Desmond to stay rational, was baffled. Since when did he become so mature?

Just as everyone marveled at how even Desmond had to bow to business, they noticed something was off.

Desmond said three drinks. But now he was on his seventh.

“That’s enough!”

“Mr. Belmont, you have more than enough already.”

“Somebody takes his drink away!”

The room buzzed with chatter.

Anyone who tried to snatch Desmond’s glass either got their hand swatted away or was scared off by the look in his eyes.

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This wasn’t an apology to Damian. It was just an excusedo drinkk himself into a stupor, a silent protest against the man who stodéo This wife.

Damian sneered, “Mr. Belmont would make an excellent tragice Hero.”

Desmond ignored him, downing glass after glass until the bottle was empty. Then he looked up, eyes glazed. “Was that apology grantleenough for you, Mr. Crowley? Should I get on my knees

“Brava,” Damian smirked. “Quite the performance.”

Just them. Desmond swayed. He lost his balance and fell straight toward Beattice

She had no choice buttttowatchllim. With his build, if he went down, he’d take her withiim.

Desmond took full advantage off the moment, shifting his weight.

“Sit properly!” Beatrice shotthimashuplare. If he wanted to make a fool of himself, that was fine. Buttshe wasn’t going to let him drag her down with him..

Desmond’s face twisted in pain. Hit wrepuellammarmaaround her waist, resting his head on her shoulder. “My stomudhhutts.”

Beatrice wanted to deck him. She pried at liissam. “your stomach hurts, go to the hospital! I’m not a datom. Winttgunėl

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does clinging to me do? Let go!”

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Desmond conveniently developed selective hearing. He groaned pitifully. They were once husband and wife. He didn’t believe she was so heartless.

The room fell silent, stunned by Desmond’s move.

Damian’s expression darkened. He stepped forward, gripped Desmond’s arm, and yanked it off Beatrice. “I’ll help you.”

“Who the hell needs your help?” Desmond was furious. He shoved Damian’s hand away.

Beatrice bolted the moment Desmond let go, not caring how it looked. She just wanted out.

Desmond’s gaze darkened. He wanted to follow, but Damian stopped him.

Seeing the dangerous glint in Desmond’s eyes, Quentin, who had been watching anxiously, jumped in and grabbed Desmond’s arm before things escalated. “Desmond, you’ve had too much to drink!”

Camden’s expression was serious. “Mr. Belmont is too drunk to discuss business any further. Mr. Fairfax, why don’t you take. him to rest?”

The message was clear: get him out of here.

Quentin figured there was no salvaging the meeting tonight, so

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he quickly turned to Damian. “Mr. Crowley, let’s reschedule for another time.”

Damian neither agreed nor disagreed. “Mr. Belmont seems… unwell,” he said coolly. “I know an excellent doctor. I’d be happy to make a referral.”

Quentin immediately agreed. The doctor wasn’t the point. The real takeaway was that Damian was open to keeping in touch, which meant there was still hope for negotiations.

Damian got Quentin’s number.

By the time Quentin dragged the ticking time bomb Desmond out of the private room, his phone buzzed with a new message.

Opening it, he found the contact Damian had forwarded: [Dr. Zachary Blackwood, Chief Psychiatrist.]

Quentin ran his hands through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. If he’d known Madeline’s fling with Desmond would spiral into this kind of disaster, he would’ve done anything to prevent it from happening. Now he was stuck cleaning up their mess, and he had no idea where to even start.

Just then, Desmond shrugged off Quentin’s hands and strode ahead. His steps were steady, and there was not a trace of drunkenness.

Quentin was speechless.

So he really had been putting on a tragic act.

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he quickly turned to Damian. “Mr. Crowley, let’s reschedule for another time.”

Damian neither agreed nor disagreed. “Mr. Belmont seems… unwell,” he said coolly. “I know an excellent doctor. I’d be happy to make a referral.”

Quentin immediately agreed. The doctor wasn’t the point. The real takeaway was that Damian was open to keeping in touch, which meant there was still hope for negotiations.

Damian got Quentin’s number.

By the time Quentin dragged the ticking time bomb Desmond out of the private room, his phone buzzed with a new message.

Opening it, he found the contact Damian had forwarded: [Dr. Zachary Blackwood, Chief Psychiatrist.]

Quentin ran his hands through his hair and let out a heavy sigh. If he’d known Madeline’s fling with Desmond would spiral into. this kind of disaster, he would’ve done anything to prevent it from happening. Now he was stuck cleaning up their mess, and he had no idea where to even start.

Just then, Desmond shrugged off Quentin’s hands and strode. ahead. His steps were steady, and there was not a trace of drunkenness.

Quentin was speechless.

So he really had been putting on a tragic act.

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*****

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At this moment, Beatrice was hiding in the restroom. She had bolted because she felt she didn’t belong in that room. If she had stayed any longer, no one knew what kind of stunt that lunatic Desmond would pull next.

By leaving, she figured he’d lose his target for dramatics and calm down on his own.

Beatrice hoped Damian wouldn’t get hurt by that maniac. She sighed, genuinely concerned.

After a while, Beatrice stepped out of the stall and peeked toward the sinks.

Just one glance, and she immediately shrank back inside. Desmond and Quentin were coming down the hallway with their people.

The corridor was long. Their footsteps echoed, growing closer.

Suddenly, a phone rang, followed by Quentin’s anxious voice. Not even ten seconds later, another phone rang. Desmond’s this

time.

Their voices overlapped. That was a frantic back–and–forth. It seemed like something urgent and troublesome had just happened.

Beatrice couldn’t make out the details. Only after confirming

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they were gone did she return to the private room.

The dinner had come to an end.

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As they stood to leave, Camden repeatedly expressed his apologies. Then, he added, “Next Wednesday is the first–phase inspection of Regent Resort. My father and I both have high hopes for this project. If your schedule allows, would you like to come along?”

Damian replied, “I’m already aware of it. I’ve made arrangements.”

Camden patted Damian on the chest in relief. “Good. See you there, then.”

Damian gave a polite farewell before leaving with Beatrice and Killian.

Dylan stayed behind to continue talking with Camden.

Outside, Damian shrugged off his jacket and handed it to

Killian. “Throw it away.”

Killian replied, “Alright.”

Beatrice raised an eyebrow, thinking to herself how paranoid he

was.

The three left the restaurant and got into the car, heading back to the office.

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As Beatrice sat in the backseat, her mind drifted back to what she had overheard in the hallway. She wondered just what had happened on Desmond and Quentin’s end.