Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 93

Chapter 93 Take You as My Sister

"Seems like he finally figured it out," Damian mocked. "Too bad it's way too late."

Lorenzo shook his head, a grim smile playing on his lips. "Late doesn't even begin to cover it. If there's a hell, his wife and kids will be waiting there to make him pay for everything he's done. And honestly? They'd have every right to."

Damian asked, "Why should they wait for him? Does he deserve a chance to repent?"

Lorenzo was taken aback.

Damian, you're as cold-hearted as ever.

As they discussed the Fairfax and Chapman families, Beatrice's mind was spinning.

The Chapmans... she only knew they were Mistbourne's most powerful family. But Jane being connected to Lorenzo's aunt, Mrs. Chapman? That was news.

And from what she'd heard, Mrs. Chapman was like the evil queen of the family—ruling with an iron fist.

Something wasn't adding up. Beatrice remembered how painfully humble Quentin, Jane's son, had been at the restaurant last week.

If Jane and Mrs. Chapman were really so close, why hadn't she reached out for help sooner?

"Give it time," Damian said from across the table. "If Jane keeps asking for favors without offering anything in return, Mrs. Chapman will lose interest soon enough."

"What could the Fairfax family possibly offer her?" Lorenzo scoffed.

"That depends on what Mrs. Chapman wants." Damian's fingers drummed softly against the table. "If it's not something valuable to her, Jane's wasting her time. But if it is..." He paused meaningfully. "You might want to watch your back."

Lorenzo's expression turned serious.

"The Fairfax family might not have enough on their own," Damian said carefully, "but combined with the Belmonts? That could be exactly what we need."

"Aren't they on bad terms?"

"When it's about survival? People tend to put aside their differences."

Lorenzo fell silent and frowned.

After a pause, he laughed bitterly, slumping in his chair. "Being born a Chapman is such a curse. Just my luck, right? I'm the one fighting to stay alive! Let someone else have this stupid heir position. I'm done!"

"Right," Damian smirked. "Because your real dream is to be some wild adventurer in Amania."

"Oh god," Lorenzo groaned, kicking Damian's chair. "You remember that? I was six! You must really love me to hang onto that embarrassing memory."

Noticing that they started "flirting" with each other, Beatrice diverted her attention elsewhere.

Will the Belmont family and the Fairfax family join forces?

She put a piece of melon into her mouth.

Having polished off all the fruits on the plate, Beatrice sat for a spell before feeling the need to use the restroom. She got up and quietly made her way to the one in the private room.

Damian caught sight of her the instant she rose.

He found her stealthy movement amusing.

"Stop staring."

Lorenzo could hardly stand it anymore. Even when Beatrice went to the restroom, Damian fixed his eyes on her.

Damian withdrew his gaze.

Lorenzo asked, "Do you really like her?"

Damian replied, "Yes."

Anticipating Lorenzo's question, he added voluntarily, "I've tried. She's just not into me."

Lorenzo's face shifted from shock to amusement. He barely held back his laughter. "Wait, you actually told her how you felt and she turned you down? Wow, Beatrice needs her eyes checked. You're way better than Desmond."

He smirked. "Don't worry, I'll pay for her eye exam. Maybe then she'll see what a catch you are, Mr. Perfect.

"This is insane! Wait—I need to mark this day. June 10th: the day a girl actually turned down Damian Crowley. Come on, spill the details! Was she harsh? Did you shed any tears?

"If you need a shoulder to cry on, I'm right here," Lorenzo teased, clearly enjoying every second of Damian's discomfort. This was truly a once-in-a-lifetime event.

Damian narrowed his cold eyes at him. "Believe it or not, I'll cut out your tongue."

When Beatrice returned from the bathroom, she found them lounging on the sofa instead of at the table.

Earlier, Damian had practically turned her around and pushed her away from Lorenzo. Now, seeing Lorenzo up close, she offered a proper greeting. "Hello, Mr. Chapman."

"Ms. Lawson," Lorenzo flashed a charming smile, patting the space next to him. "Join me."

Damian glared at him, and his charming eyes were as cold as ice, almost freezing him stiff.

"No need."

"Merely confessing your love won't make a difference. How on earth can you expect her to fall for you if you don't take proactive steps?"

Damian smiled but made no reply.

Beatrice hung back, watching them stand so close together.

Wait... They wouldn't actually... No. But what would she even call her boss's husband? Mr. Crowley Number Two?

God, that's weird. She shook her head. Nope. Not going there.

But why did Lorenzo have such power over Damian?

And seriously—why did these two ridiculously attractive men have to look so good together?

Damian pushed away Lorenzo's arm. "No. Maybe next time."

Since Damian was determined to leave, Lorenzo didn't press the matter. "All right. I'll come to Cloudia to visit you later." With that, he looked back and gave Beatrice a suggestive, playful wink. "Beatrice, come with your husband next time."

She was confused.

Why does Lorenzo sound so strange?

"Okay," she smiled politely.

Damian and Beatrice got into the car.

It was nearly midnight by the time they made their way from the club to the airport and finally got on the plane.​

After two sleepless days buried in work, Beatrice was running on empty. Her body ached and her mind felt foggy.

Once aboard the plane, she found a quiet spot in the back. The moment she sank into her seat, her eyes fluttered shut, exhaustion finally taking over.

"Ms. Lawson, would you like something to eat?" Damian asked.

He waited for a long while without getting a response from Beatrice. He looked back, only to find that she had already dozed off, leaning against the chair.

Damian rose to his feet, took a blanket, walked over, and bent down to drape it over her.

Just as he was about to stand up, his eyes fell on her rosy lips...