Trapped with My Billionaire Ex-Husband (Blair and Sebastian) novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88 

SEBASTIAN 

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I couldn’t shake the feeling that the boy knew something important. He acted like he recognized the person in the photo but didn’t want to say anything. I wondered why he was keeping secrets from me. 

I decided to follow him, hoping he’d tell me more. But no matter how hard I tried, I lost sight of him in 

the busy streets. 

I slumped my shoulder in defeat. But I have no plan to give up. Especially now that there’s hope of finding Blaire here. I had a feeling that I’d be close to finding her. I wasn’t planning on leaving until I found out the truth. 

I tried to find a hotel nearby where I could settle for the night while waiting for reinforcement. 

As I trudged along the dimly lit streets, a sense of determination burned within me, refusing to be extinguished by the weight of uncertainty. “I won’t give up,” I muttered to myself, the words echoing in 

the stillness of the night. 

Just then, a voice broke through my reverie, startling me out of my thoughts. “Hey, you lost, buddy?” A gruff voice called out from the shadows. 

I turned to see a burly man leaning against the wall of a nearby building, his features obscured by the 

darkness. 

“Not lost, just looking for a place to stay for the night,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady despite the unease that prickled at the back of my neck. 

The man nodded, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Well, you’re in luck. There’s a motel down the road, just a few blocks away. Not the fanciest place, but it’ll do in a pinch.” 

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“Thanks; I’ll check it out,” I said, grateful for the tip. 

With a nod of thanks, I turned and continued on my way, the promise of a warm bed and a roof over my head spurring me forward. 

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Chapter 88 

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As I reached the motel, I pushed open the creaking door and stepped inside, the musty smell of old carpet and stale air washing over me. 

“Good evening, sir. How can I help you?” The receptionist asked, her voice polite but tinged with weariness. 

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“I’d like a room for the night, please,” I replied, flashing her a tired smile. 

“Certainly, sir. Just sign in here, and I’ll get you sorted,” she said, sliding a weathered ledger across the 

counter. 

After completing the necessary paperwork followed the receptionist down a dimly lit corridor, my 

footsteps echoing softly against the worn linoleum floor. She stopped at a non–descript door and handed 

me a key. 

“Room 203. Enjoy your stay,” she said with a forced smile before disappearing back into the shadows. 

I entered the room and closed the door behind me, the weight of exhaustion settling over me like a heavy blanket. Collapsing onto the bed, I allowed myself a moment of respite, knowing that tomorrow would bring new challenges and new revelations in my quest to uncover the truth. 

茶餐餐廳 

The room wasn’t anything like the fancy hotels I used to frequent during business trips. It was clean and all, but it lacked the comfort and luxury I was used to. Despite the cheap price, I just couldn’t settle down. 

Instead of sleeping, I found myself staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts that seemed to spiral endlessly. My mind kept wandering back to simpler times, when things weren’t so complicated. 

You mean when Blaire was still crazy about you? The little voice inside my head piped up, cutting through the silence with its blunt truth. 

I let out a heavy sigh, conceding that the voice had a point. I used to take advantage of Blaire’s devotion, knowing she’d always be there, waiting for me no matter what. But now, everything felt different. 

Hoping to clear my mind, I figured a few drinks might help me doze off. Spotting a bar nearby, I headed over there. It was dimly lit and cozy–the perfect place to drown my thoughts in a glass or two. 

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As I walked in, the sound of chatter and laughter filled the air, providing a welcome distraction from my racing mind. I found a seat at the counter and ordered a drink, hoping it would ease the turmoil within 

1. me. 

“One glass of bourbon, please,” I ordered. 

The bartender, a burly man with a friendly grin, slid the drink over to me. “That would be five dollars,” 

he said with a nod. 

“Thanks,” I muttered, taking a sip and relishing the burn as it slid down my throat. 

“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders,” the bartender remarked, wiping 

down the counter. 

“You could say that,” I replied, offering a half–hearted smile. “Just trying to clear my head, you know?” 

He nodded sympathetically. “Well, you’re in the right place for it. Folks come here to escape their 

troubles all the time.” 

I chuckled softly, the tension in my shoulders easing ever so slightly. “Guess I’m not the only one then.” 

The bartender gave me a knowing look. “We all have our demons, friend. The trick is learning how to 

live with ‘em.” 

I nodded in agreement, taking another sip of my drink. 

I wasn’t even down to my first glass when I suddenly felt something as if someone had been lurking in the shadows and was watching my every move. The feeling of being watched lingered–a prickling sensation at the back of my neck that refused to dissipate. Despite my efforts to dismiss it, a sense of