Chapter 118 118
Jacqueline was in no hurry.
Instead of going straight to the library, she detoured to the cafeteria, grabbed a couple of snacks, and lingered far longer than necessary while chatting with her friends. She laughed a little louder, talked a little slower, and checked the time more than once.
When she was finally satisfied that she had made him wait at least twenty minutes, she decided he had suffered enough.
Only then did she head to the library.
He was exactly where she had expected him to be sitting at the same table where she had first noticed him, back straight, expression carved from stone, a book open in front of him like it had personally offended him.
She walked over and deliberately chose the chair to his right.
“Late,” he bit out, the single word sharp and clipped.
She rolled her eyes.
“You made me wait two whole days to even start this assignment. Twenty minutes is generous compared to that,” she replied, a smug curve tugging at her lips.
He ignored the smirk entirely.
“You’ll cover this,” he said curtly, turning the book toward her and indicating the topics she was responsible for.
Jacqueline let out a dramatic sigh, snatched the book from in front of him, and got to work.
He was absolutely no fun.
Time slipped past them unnoticed. Two hours vanished into thin air, and they weren’t even halfway through when her phone began to ring.
She glanced at the screen and immediately stood up. “Excuse me,” she muttered before walking a few steps away.
“Yes, Mr. Loïc?” she answered.
“I’ve been waiting for the past thirty minutes, Ms. Jacqueline,” came his patient but pointed reply.
Her eyes widened.
She had completely forgotten.
“Mr. Loïc, I’ll call you back in a minute,” she said quickly, ending the call before he could respond.
She returned to Damien’s table.
“Would you be able to finish this on your own?” she asked hurriedly. “I have to go home now, and I’ve already completed half of my portion.”
He didn’t even bother looking up.
“No.”
That was it. Just that.
Jacqueline made an exaggerated, irritated face at him.
“Boys aren’t allowed at my place, so I can’t exactly invite you over to finish it,” she muttered under her breath, annoyed.
Silence.
“You do realize this is all your fault,” she continued, folding her arms across her chest. “If we had started two days ago like normal people, we’d probably be done by now. And the university is closing in fifteen minutes!”
Nothing.
He kept typing on his laptop as if she didn’t exist.
She glared at him, hoping he would at least feel the intensity of it.
No reaction.
With an aggravated sigh, she stepped away again and dialed Mr. Julien. He answered after the second ring.
“What is it?” he asked.
Jacqueline inhaled deeply.
“Tomorrow is the final submission date for a very important assignment, and it’s not finished yet. Can I go to Fanny’s house to complete it? I’ll try to be back before night,” she asked, layering her voice with hopeful sincerity.
There was barely any chance he would agree.
“Will it be just you and Fanny?” he asked carefully.
“Yes,” she replied instantly.
There was a brief pause on the other end.
“Be home before ten,” he said, then hung up.
Jacqueline stared at her phone in disbelief.
He actually allowed it.
Though, to be fair, that might have been because she lied. If she had mentioned Damien’s name, the answer would have been a firm no.
She walked back to him.
“Let’s go to your place to finish the assignment,” she said casually.
Damien stopped typing.
Slowly, he lifted his head and fixed her with narrowed eyes.
You think I’m taking you to my place? the look practically screamed.
Cocky asshole.
What she didn’t know was that he had overheard every word of her conversation. He didn’t like liars. And he despised people who forced themselves into his space.
Without another word, he shut his laptop, packed his things, and stood. She followed immediately, calling Mr. Loïc and informing him that she wouldn’t need a ride she had permission to go to a friend’s place.
They walked into the parking lot.
Damien pressed the button on his key fob.
The sleek, jet-black Lamborghini Aventador blinked in response.
Her eyes widened.
It was sinful. Powerful. Ridiculously attractive.
Excitement surged through her so suddenly that she hurried to the passenger side and slipped into the seat before he even opened the driver’s door. She stared around the luxurious interior in awe while Damien tossed his backpack into the back and started the engine.
The car roared to life.
“You’re disgustingly rich,” she muttered as he pulled out onto the road.
Silence filled the car. He didn’t even bother turning on the music.
“I know you don’t want to take me to your place,” she grumbled after a while, staring out the window at the darkening streets. “But you could at least stop sulking about it.”
He didn’t respond.
She had expected him to live in some extravagant villa or modern mansion something that matched the car he drove.
Instead, when he parked, her jaw nearly hit the floor.
The house in front of them was a single-story structure that looked old enough to have witnessed several generations come and go. It had an eerie, almost abandoned aura.
“Is this… your house?” she asked, stunned as she scanned the street.
She recognized the area. It was infamous. News reports mentioned it every few days gang activity, underworld dealings, things people preferred not to speak about.
She heard his door shut.
He was already out, slinging his bag over his shoulder.
Her throat tightened.
Did he bring her here to murder her?
She watched him walk toward the house and quickly jumped out of the car, closing the door as it locked automatically behind her.
The streetlights flickered. Some didn’t work at all.
She hurried after him.
“By any chance,” she began cautiously, “if you’re planning to kill me because I annoy you, just give me a hint. I promise I’ll run for my life without hesitation”
“Get in,” he grumbled, unlocking the front door and gesturing for her to enter first.
She froze at the threshold.
“What if there’s a zombie inside?” she whispered dramatically. “At this point, I’d believe anything. A silent guy driving a Lamborghini but living in a haunted house? What are you? A vampire?”
She stared at him with exaggerated suspicion.
“I hate them,” he growled.