Chapter 120 120
“Why do I smell… a human here?” Noël mused, amusement glittering in his eyes.
Damien didn’t answer.
From inside the room, Jacqueline strained to hear something anything but there was only silence from his side.
Smell a human?
What was that even supposed to mean? Was the guy a bloodhound?
She huffed, irritation bubbling up again at the way Damien had treated her. Spinning on her heel, she took in the dark room around her. With limited visibility, she felt her way toward the bedside table and switched on the lamp.
Warm light spilled across the space.
She smiled faintly at her small victory and surveyed the room properly. There was nothing remarkable about it. A bed sat in the center. A single cupboard occupied one corner. A study table stood near the wall beside a lone window.
That was it.
No attached bathroom, which meant one of the other doors in the corridor must lead to it.
Then her gaze snagged on something that made her gasp dramatically.
A beautiful golden birdcage hung near the window, delicate and ornate. Inside perched a stunning red sparrow.
Like an excited child, Jacqueline hurried toward it, eyes sparkling.
“Oh my God,” she breathed. “You pretty little cutie pie. I never thought Mr. Frosty would have a pet sparrow.”
The bird chirped softly, tilting its tiny head.
“You little thing, you’re gorgeous. I wonder what your name is. Red? You look like a Red.”
The sparrow answered with another series of cheerful chirrups, as if engaging in conversation.
Jacqueline beamed. “I love you already.”
She slipped her forefinger gently between the bars, teasing the sparrow, who hopped closer without fear.
“Thank God I found someone to talk to in this brooding, silent cave of his,” she muttered before stepping back.
With idle curiosity, she wandered around the room. Eventually, unable to resist temptation, she opened his cupboard, hoping to cure her boredom by judging his wardrobe.
Big mistake.
Black. Gray. More black. Maybe one or two reluctant white shirts tucked between the monotony.
She would’ve been ready to faint if she hadn’t found at least a few blue jeans hanging there.
“I’m not shocked at all,” she mused dryly.
Her attention shifted to a drawer with a key already inserted. Without thinking too hard, she pulled it open.
An album lay inside.
She hesitated.
“What do you think, Red? Should I open it?” she asked, glancing toward the bird. “I probably shouldn’t invade his privacy.”
After a moment of internal debate, she sighed and pushed the drawer shut again, closing the cupboard as well.
Maybe she wasn’t entirely mannerless.
Moving to the small dressing table, she noticed there was only a single bottle of fragrance placed neatly on it. She picked it up and inhaled.
The scent was unmistakable.
His scent.
She exhaled slowly, almost dreamily, and checked the brand name so she could buy it later. Not to wear it of course not. She would just… keep it. Inhale it when she wanted to smell something nice.
That was her perfectly logical explanation.
Before she could stop herself, she sprayed a little on her wrist.
Smiling, she lifted it to her nose again.
She could carry his scent with her until her morning shower.
Cool.
Her gaze dropped to her watch.
A horrified shriek escaped her lips.
It was fifteen minutes past ten.
That was bad. Very bad.
“I’m dead, Red,” she muttered dramatically to the sparrow.
Damien probably wouldn’t drop her home. And she couldn’t just stay locked in his room until that creepy Noël guy left.
He wasn’t her father. He couldn’t order her around.
If she left now, she might catch a cab from the main road.
“Alright, Red. I’ve got to go. Hopefully we’ll meet again.”
She winked at the sparrow and headed for the door.
Twisting the knob, she stepped into the lounge
and froze.
Her mouth fell open.
The room was empty.
Damien was gone.
Noël too.
“What in the world…” she trailed off as the roar of a car engine echoed outside.
She rushed to the window near the door and peeked out.
Her heart nearly stopped.
A car was pulling away and Damien was inside, slumped unconscious, his head resting against the window.
Jacqueline clapped a hand over her mouth in shock as the vehicle disappeared down the road.
She didn’t think.
Not even for a second.
She grabbed his car keys from the table and bolted outside, locking the door behind her purely for Red’s safety. She wasn’t about to let some stray cat sneak in and eat her new sparrow friend.
Jacqueline was, without question, a terrible driver.
But it wasn’t every day a person got the chance to drive a freaking Lamborghini.
She slid into the driver’s seat, hands trembling with adrenaline, and started the engine.
A wild grin spread across her face.
“It’s time for some action,” she muttered.
Keeping a careful distance, she chased after the car, switching off her headlights to avoid being noticed.
“I should call the cops,” she mumbled, fishing her phone out of her pocket.
She glanced at the screen.
Dead.
She cursed under her breath.
Carefully far more carefully than she had ever driven before she followed the car out of the city. Eventually, it turned onto a rugged, uneven path.
Jacqueline waited a few seconds before steering in after it.
Thank God the fuel tank was full.
If the car stalled in the middle of nowhere, she would actually cry.
Ahead, she spotted what looked like an old industrial area abandoned, forgotten by time.
She parked at a distance and stepped out quietly, moving cautiously so she wouldn’t be seen.
Why would Noël kidnap Damien?
And more importantly why was she here trying to save him?
What the hell was even happening?
Ignoring the hurricane of questions swirling inside her head, she slipped into a warehouse-like building.
It was massive.
Empty.
Echoing.
And right in the center
Damien sat tied to a chair, chains wrapped tightly around his body, his posture tense and brooding even in captivity.
Jacqueline stared.
“What the actual fk,” she whispered.