Chapter 108 108
“Horror,” Mathieu declared.
“Action,” Jacqueline countered brightly.
“Horror.”
“Action.”
“Horror.”
“Action.”
“Horror.”
“Fine. Watch it by yourself. I’m leaving.”
She muttered the last part under her breath and made a dramatic move to slide off the bed. Before her feet could touch the floor, Mathieu caught her wrist and tugged her back.
“Fine! You’re impossible. Total blackmailer,” he grumbled, already reaching for the remote as he searched for an action movie on Nx.
“Aww, thank you.” She beamed, ruffling his hair. He swatted her hand away with a scowl, and soon the two of them were settled side by side, popcorn between them, eyes on the screen.
Halfway through the film, Mathieu’s grand enthusiasm fizzled into soft snores against her shoulder.
Jacqueline rolled her eyes. So much for his passionate defense of horror.
Carefully, she shifted, easing him down onto the mattress and arranging him properly. She pulled the blanket up to his chin, switched off the LED lights, and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. She wasn’t overly affectionate by nature, but she loved Mathieu fiercely. He was all she had her only family and she guarded that bond like something sacred.
She slipped out of the room, closing the door softly behind her, only to stop short.
Mr. Julien was standing just outside.
He offered her a small smile before stepping past her to check on the sleeping boy.
The next morning, Jacqueline woke up exhausted but right on schedule. For a fleeting second she considered skipping the day entirely. But then she remembered the mission waiting for her at university.
And that was enough.
She forced herself through her routine, showered quickly, dressed, and marched down the hallway toward Mathieu’s room.
This time, she didn’t yank his blanket off.
Instead, she grabbed his controller, switched on his Xbox, and began playing his game.
“Oh no I’m dying. Oh damn, I died again! Gosh, I’m wasting Mathieu’s coins… and all his lives!”
She made sure her voice carried.
A groggy grumble came from the bed. Then Mathieu blinked toward the screen and froze in horror.
“STOP, JACQUELINE!”
He launched himself at her, and she burst into laughter as he snatched the joystick from her hands. He paused the game and turned to glare at her, eyes blazing.
“You ruined two of my lives!” he yelled.
The next second, he was chasing her.
Jacqueline shrieked with laughter as she darted out of the room and slammed the door behind her, gripping the knob tightly so he couldn’t yank it open.
“You made me fall yesterday. Payback, baby!” she sang.
Mathieu growled from the other side, rattling the handle uselessly. She had the advantage being older did have its perks.
“Get ready! We’re already late!” she called out.
He stomped away toward the en-suite bathroom, still muttering under his breath.
Jacqueline grinned to herself and headed downstairs. Breakfast was already laid out neatly on the dining table. Julien had left for work.
“Thank you, Hélène,” Jacqueline said warmly as she was served.
Mathieu joined her shortly after, and they ate together before heading out in separate cars.
Mr. Loïc dropped her off in the university parking lot. She thanked him and stepped out only to pause.
A jet-black Lamborghini Aventador rolled into the lot, drawing nearly every pair of eyes toward it.
Whoever owned that car was undeniably wealthy.
Did she care?
Not really.
She shut the door and began walking until the driver stepped out.
Her stride faltered.
Mr. Frosty.
He opened the back door, retrieved his bag with effortless grace, then shut the door and locked the car with a remote click. He slipped on his Ray-Bans with practiced ease.
Damn.
He looked devastatingly good. As he strode forward, girls practically melted in his wake.
There was something about the way he walked like he owned the ground beneath his feet. Like a king passing through his kingdom. His posture. His presence. His aura.
She rarely fell for appearances; looks could lie. But aura? Energy? The way someone carried themselves? That spoke volumes.
She blinked, snapping out of her trance.
And then she jogged after him.
Within moments, she was walking at his side.
His hands were tucked casually into his pockets.
Jacqueline smirked. She pulled out her own Ray-Bans, slid them on, and mirrored his posture hands in pockets, stride measured and deliberate. If imitation irritated him enough to speak first, she would consider it a victory.
He noticed.
She was sure of it.
And yet
He ignored her entirely.
Her nose scrunched in frustration as she stopped. He continued forward without so much as a glance.
The bet.
She mentally groaned and hurried after him again.
“Hi,” she chirped, then spun around so she was walking backward in front of him, facing him.
His gaze stayed lowered. No reaction.
“I’m starting to think you’re deaf too,” she blurted and immediately bit her tongue.
Always. She always said something ridiculous before thinking.
Still nothing.
He didn’t even lift his head.
He seriously can’t hear, she thought, a flicker of guilt surfacing.
“That must be hard. Being deaf and Frosty. Tough combo,” she went on, softer now. “But seriously, if you ever need help with notes or anything, I’m here. Oh right. You can’t hear.”
She pulled out her notebook, scribbled the message down, tore the page free, and held it up in front of him.
Ignored.
Her jaw dropped.
“Don’t tell me you can’t read either,” she exclaimed, stuffing the torn pieces back into her bag.
“I should tell my friends you’re actually very nice and we should stop disturbing you,” she added with a polite smile.
He kept walking.
“Slow down, Mr. Frosty. Are you jogging? I can’t keep up ooh ahh!”
Her heel caught on something.
She tipped backward
and a strong, calloused hand seized her arm.
In one swift motion she was pulled forward, crashing against a solid chest. A gasp escaped her lips.
“Careful.”
His voice.
Deep. Rich. Thick. Infuriatingly attractive.
And for the first time
Mr. Frosty had spoken.