Trapped in the boss's embrace (by Katrina A) novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80 Tension at the Table

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Beatrice smiled and stood up, picking up Damian’s glass. “Mr. Crowley’s got a cold, so he can’t drink. I’ll do it for him.”

She was just about to lift the glass to her lips when Damian’s hand shot out, taking it from her.

His voice was soft, but there was a quiet firmness in it. “No need. Sit down.”

He placed the glass back on the table, and the room fell into an instant, heavy silence.

Desmond’s fingers tightened around his own wine glass, looking like he might crush it in frustration. His gaze was locked on Damian, burning with something sharp and dangerous.

The others in the room exchanged glances, some curious, some uncomfortable, and others pretending they hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary.

Beatrice blinked, a little lost.

She sat back down, trying to figure out what Damian’s gesture meant. She wasn’t sure what he was up to yet, but it was clear there was some deeper meaning behind his actions. For now, she’d just go with it.

“Mr. Crowley, you really have a soft spot for Beatrice, don’t

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Chapter 80 Tension at the Table

you?” Dylan teased, though his words were laced with something more pointed.

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It was clear he was hinting that Damian had no problem brushing aside Camden’s dignity for a woman, something even David would’ve been granted a little more respect for.

Damian’s smile was all teeth and no warmth. “Since you’re so concerned, why don’t you take this one for me?”

He followed up with a few theatrical coughs, playing up his supposed cold.

Dylan’s jaw clenched, feeling his face heat with annoyance. He knew he was trapped–refuse, and things would get messy. With barely concealed frustration, he reached for the glass.

Quentin, watching the exchange, shot Dylan an apologetic look. He’d been trying to meet with Damian for months. When he’d bumped into Camden at a recent event, the man had offered to help arrange this meeting with Damian.

To cover his bases, Quentin had brought Dylan along.

But right now, it was obvious that Damian wasn’t playing by anyone else’s rules.

Beatrice has got him completely under her spell.

There’s definitely something more going on between them.

His eyes shifted to Desmond, who was seething silently, his body

Chapter 80 Tension at the Table tense like a coiled spring.

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Camden, sensing the tension, chuckled lightly to smooth things over. “He’s right, Mr. Crowley. You really shouldn’t drink with a cold.”

He gave a subtle glance to his secretary, signaling her to step back with the wine bottle.

Damian’s actions made it clear that he wasn’t about to play nice with anyone.

Camden knew it was only a matter of time before Damian took full control, especially now that NobleQuest Group was firmly under his thumb. If he stepped out of line, it wouldn’t be good for him or for the future of his business dealings.

The reason Camden had arranged this meeting with Damian wasn’t just to help Quentin. He also wanted to observe how Damian operated and get a sense of his style and methods.

“Mr. Steele,” Damian said, his smile polite but carrying a chilly undertone, “if you were bringing friends, it would’ve been better to let me know ahead of time.”

Camden, unfazed, gave a casual shrug, pretending not to notice the subtle warning in Damian’s tone. “I meant to, but I was worried you might not come. Mr. Fairfax has been so stressed. over the project. He’s practically wasting away.”

Quentin, eager to seize the moment, jumped in. “Mr. Crowley, about the loan for the project… We’d really appreciate another

Chapter 80 Tension at the Tabible

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chance. I know past issues have raised komme concerns, but I can assure you they won’t affect the project! sprogress. Mr. Belmont and I will make sure everything stays outrack.‘

Desmond didn’t speak, his expression unreadabideand Quentin didn’t expect him to.

Damian listened carefully, his face a mask of neutrality.

He took a measured sip of water, studying his glass beforee speaking quietly. “What about Mr. Belmont?“”

His eyes flicked up to meet Desmond’s.

The room’s temperature seemed to drop ten degrees. The airr grew thick with tension, like the calm before a storm.

Desmond met Damian’s stare, his usual coldness replaced by something more volatile, something that crackled beneath the

surface.

Ille air between them seemed to thicken, and everyone in the noomcould feel it, the pressure almost palpable.

Quentfin’s heat raced. He feared the situation might spiral outtoffcontrolatanny moment. He quickly placed a hand on Desmond’s similder. “Desmond, take it easy.”

He gave a slight squeezedlem reminder to stay composed. This was about fie projjedt, and they couldn’t afford to let their emotions get in the way.

Chapter 80 Tension at the Table

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Desmond slowly turned his gaze away from Damian, but it didn’t soften. Instead, his eyes found Beatrice, and for the first time, there was something almost vulnerable in his look.

His expression held a trace of hurt, like a silent accusation, as though she had turned her back on him, left him behind, and now found solace in Damian’s arms.

Beatrice didn’t flinch.

She met his gaze calmly, as though she were looking at a child throwing a tantrum.

Finally, Desmond’s gaze shifted back to Damian. “What Mr. Fairfax said… is exactly what I meant.”

His face remained cold and proud, but his voice, just slightly strained, betrayed his inner turmoil.

Damian’s eyes glinted with amusement, a teasing edge creeping into his tone. “What exactly did Mr. Fairfax say? Sorry, I have a terrible memory. Care to repeat it for me, Mr. Belmont?”

Desmond’s fists clenched at his sides. He couldn’t bring himself to beg Damian. He simply wasn’t built that way.

In a sharp motion, Desmond stood to leave, but Quentin hurriedly rose and grabbed his arm, signaling him to calm down with a silent look.

Dylan jumped in, trying to diffuse the situation. “Mr. Crowley, the project review looks good. Your father’s okay with it, as long

Chapter 80 Tension at the Table

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as you’re willing to compromise. Both Mr. Fairfax and Mr. Belmont came in person–that shows they’re serious about this.”

“Serious?” Damian scoffed, eyeing Desmond, who was still struggling against Quentin’s grip.

He shook his head with a smirk. “I don’t see it.”

Desmond’s forehead twitched in frustration. His patience was wearing thin.

Seeing the situation spiral, Quentin had no choice but to gently pull Desmond out of the private room.

Inside, Camden observed the exchange closely. It was clear that Damian was playing with Desmond probably because of Beatrice. He hadn’t expected Damian to be so easily tempted, though.

Still, Camden couldn’t help feeling pleased. He’d figured out how to get on Damian’s good side.

Beatrice was beautiful, but beauty was common in their world. He had plenty of other options when it came to attractive

Women.

“Mr. Belmont really doesn’t know how to handle things,” Camden said with an exaggerated tone, pretending to scold Desmond. Then, he shot a secretive look at his secretary. “Mr. Crowley’s glass is empty. Why aren’t you refilling it?”

His secretary took the hint and stood up with a flirtatious smile,

Chapter 80 Tension at the Table

her hips swaying as she walked over.

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But before she could pour. Damian held up his hand. “I’m good. We’re here for dinner, not a water–drinking contest.”

Camden, disappointed, realized Damian clearly wasn’t interested in his secretary.

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