Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 127

Chapter 127 This Feels Familiar

Nope!

Can't fall into this trap again! 

Beatrice backpedaled so fast she nearly tripped over her own feet. "I'm out—catch you Monday!"

Summer was basically a minefield for catching feelings—every casual moment felt like an ambush waiting to happen. She took off like Sugar was still chasing her, yelling at Violet and the crew to move their asses.

They'd almost made it out of the yard when Damian's voice sliced through the air. "Hold up."

Everyone froze.

He strolled over, those dark, knowing eyes locked onto Beatrice. "Running into you in some random suburb? That's not coincidence—that's fate. Since I've got nothing better to do, why not crash your little outing?"

Beatrice's brain short-circuited.

Violet and the others might as well have been statues.

He's seriously inviting himself along?

Nobody dared say no—not even Ethan, who'd just dominated a rabid dog but now looked like a scolded golden retriever in Damian's presence.

Nico tugged Violet's sleeve, whispering, "Is Mr. Crowley really coming? Does he... know why we're here?"

She side-eyed Damian—his stupidly sharp jawline, the way his presence seemed to warp the air around him. Those eyes felt like they could strip her soul bare.

Violet patted her hand. "Relax, he's clueless. He'll ditch us after five minutes."

Nico hesitated. "But—"

"Want him gone? Tell him yourself," Violet challenged.

Nico's head shook so fast it blurred. "Never mind. Let's just go."

Damian's smirk deepened, catching their hushed panic.

He left Killian behind with a lazy wave.

The homeowner called after him, "Mr. Crowley, dinner's at seven—prime rib and that bourbon you like."

"Obviously," Damian tossed back.

And just like that, their group of five became six.

Nico took the lead again, but Damian materialized beside Beatrice like smoke. Theodore tried to cut in, only for Violet to drag him back by the ear.

"Damian's got weird energy with Beatrice," Theodore muttered.

Violet fake-gasped, ruffling his hair. "Wow, my guy finally notices! Proud of you, champ."

Theodore's deadpan stare could've withered grass.

Ethan clapped him on the shoulder. "Sidewalk's too narrow for a love triangle, bro. Take the L."

The trio whispered back there like they were slick, thinking no one could hear.

But Ethan was basically yelling—he had no chill!

Beatrice pretended to be deaf.

Damian leaned in, his breath brushing her ear. "So. Who's your pick?"

"Huh?" She blinked. "Oh! Uh... Lakers in six."

She speed-walked ahead before he could process that nonsense.

Damian stared after her. "What."

Nico led them to the last house on the block—a weathered two-story building slumped behind an overgrown yard.

Unlike the neatly trimmed lawns they'd passed, this place looked like it had been forgotten by time: weeds strangling the fence, a porch step sagging like a tired sigh.

"This is my uncle's place," Nico said, stepping in first.

An elderly woman—Laura Sloan—looked up from peeling a butternut squash, her face lighting up. "Nico? Is that you?"

"Grandma, yeah, it's me."

"You're here—and with friends!"

"Yeah, they've never seen the suburbs before, so I dragged them along to check it out."

"Love that—come on in!"

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