The Platonic Trap novel Chapter 143

Celia had a pretty good idea of where Alistair had gone.

But since the maid wasn't talking, she just played dumb.

She sat at the dining table, surrounded by a few maids who were all deathly quiet.

Feigning a heavy heart, Celia picked at her food for a moment before setting down her silverware. "I'm done. You all should get some rest early, too."

With that, she stood up to head upstairs.

"Ms. Stafford?" The maid looked confused, noticing Celia had barely touched her meal. "Was the food not to your liking tonight?"

Celia forced a small, weary smile. "No, I'm just not very hungry. The food was lovely."

After the brief explanation, she turned and walked upstairs.

--

The night was as cool as water.

When Alistair returned, he carried the faint, metallic scent of blood.

The maid kept her head down, respectfully taking his jacket without a word.

There was a tiny, almost imperceptible speck of blood on his pristine white shirt.

Loosening his tie, the man asked in a low, quiet voice, "Where is she?"

Even without a name, the maid knew exactly who he meant.

"Mr. Zucker, Ms. Stafford has already retired to her room."

Alistair gave a curt "Mn" and glanced at his knuckles.

Slightly grazed.

He flexed his fingers, his eyes brooding and unreadable.

"Um, Mr. Zucker..."

The maid hesitated before softly reporting, "Ms. Stafford barely ate anything for dinner. She looked a bit unwell."

His gaze darkened. "Did she look at her phone when she came down?"

The maid shook her head. "No. She barely touched her silverware, sat for a bit, and went right back up."

"I see."

He paused, his eyes falling on the jacket the maid was holding.

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