Read Novel Full Chapter 962: Officer Sarah: I’m Fucking Jealous
Chapter 962: Officer Sarah: I’m Fucking Jealous
Sarah reached me first. She leaned down, gave me an exaggerated wink, and whispered just loud enough for the others to hear:
"Looking awfully alive for a dying man, Jack. Should I start crying again for the drama?"
I smirked. Julie had clearly filled her in—Sarah knew the injuries were fake. Her playful energy cut through the room like a spark.
Julie’s eyes flicked immediately to Samantha—standing quietly near the bed, still flushed, new clothes pristine, but her lips still faintly swollen from earlier.
"And who’s this?" Julie asked, voice light but probing.
Gabriela answered smoothly—stepping forward with a warm, innocent smile.
"She’s Samantha. Hotel staff. I asked her to help Jack wash up and change his clothes while we were all... losing our minds earlier. She’s been very sweet."
Yuko looked over—blinked once—then gave Samantha a small, grateful nod.
"Thank you..." she said softly, voice sincere. "For taking care of him."
She didn’t think much of it. To Yuko, Samantha was just another kind stranger—hotel staff doing her job. No threat. No suspicion. Just another person who’d helped while she drowned in guilt.
But Julie, Lorena, Sarah, and Marina?
They knew.
Their eyes locked on Samantha—sharp, assessing, amused. They saw the blush that wouldn’t fade, the way her gaze kept darting to me with shy adoration, the faint tremble in her fingers, the way she stood just a little too close to the bed.
Julie’s lips curved into a slow, wicked smile.
Lorena bit her lip to hide a grin.
Sarah outright smirked—crossing her arms and leaning against the wall like she was watching the best show in town.
Marina—ever the professional—simply raised one perfectly groomed eyebrow and made a tiny note on her tablet.
Yuko—oblivious—moved closer to the bed, gently touching the fresh bandages over my chest.
"You’re really okay?" she whispered. "
I nodded—reaching up to squeeze her hand.
"Yeah. I’m good. Thanks for handling it, Yuko."
She smiled—small, relieved—but her eyes still carried that heavy guilt.
Yuko hesitated—then perched on the very edge of the mattress, still keeping a careful distance from the others, as if she didn’t quite belong in their circle. Her hands twisted in her lap, eyes fixed on the fresh bandages over my chest like they were the only safe thing to look at.
Julie stepped forward smoothly, laying a maternal hand on Yuko’s shoulder—gentle, but firm enough to make the younger woman tense.
"Yuko, I apologise to you..." Julie said softly, voice low and sincere. "For before. I was angry... scared... because Jack got hurt. I know you’ve been taking care of him—staying up all night, watching over him, worrying yourself sick. You don’t need to beat yourself up anymore."
Yuko shook her head quickly—almost violently—hair falling across her face like a curtain.
"No... " You don’t need to apologise," she whispered, voice cracking. "It’s my fault. I’m the one who hurt Jack. I... I lost control. I thought... I thought the worst things. I don’t deserve your kindness."
Julie sighed—soft, almost fond—and squeezed Yuko’s shoulder.
"Okay... okay. Jack’s the only one who can really handle you." She glanced at me with a small, knowing smile. "Let me tell you, though—she hasn’t slept all night. She’s been pacing, waiting for morning, desperate to come here and see you. Worried sick, you’d hate her."
Yuko’s face flared crimson. She ducked her head, refusing to meet my eyes, but I could see the way her fingers clenched tighter in her lap.
I reached out—slowly, gently—and took her hand.
"Thank you, Sister Yuko," I said quietly, voice warm and steady. "But don’t worry. I’m totally fine now. Even my injuries are healing quickly... see? No pain. No scars that matter. So don’t blame yourself anymore. Please."
Yuko’s eyes finally lifted—shiny, uncertain, hopeful. She squeezed my hand back—small, trembling.
"Really...?" she whispered. "You’re... you’re not angry?"
I shook my head.
"Not even a little."
She exhaled shakily—relief washing over her features like sunlight breaking through clouds.
I was chatting quietly with Yuko—her voice still soft and tentative, fingers nervously smoothing the edge of the blanket—when she suddenly glanced over at Samantha, who was standing near the foot of the bed, still glowing from earlier.
"Lady Samantha," Yuko said gently, "can you ask the hotel staff to prepare some soup for Jack? Something warm... he needs to eat properly."
Samantha blinked—surprised at being addressed so politely—then nodded quickly, a shy smile touching her lips.
"Of course... right away."
She slipped out of the room, skirt swishing softly, leaving a faint trace of her perfume behind.
Yuko watched her go for a second, then stood up without a word. She moved to the small couch near the window, picked up an apple from the fruit basket someone had left, and began peeling it with careful, practiced motions—knife gliding smoothly, red skin curling away in one long spiral. It was a small, domestic act, but her hands trembled slightly, betraying how much guilt still weighed on her.
Sarah took the opportunity.
She sauntered over to my bedside—casual, hips swaying—and positioned herself so her back was to Yuko on the couch. From Yuko’s angle, she could only see Sarah’s silhouette blocking most of me.
Sarah leaned down slowly—elbows resting on the mattress edge, face inches from mine—her smirk sharp and filthy.
"How was that little Samantha’s pussy, hmm?" she whispered, breath hot against my ear. "I saw her limping when she walked out. Guess you fucked her hard, didn’t you? Stretched that tight maid cunt until she couldn’t walk straight... bet she’s still dripping you right now."
I matched her smirk—tilting my head so our lips nearly brushed.
"What, don’t tell me you’re jealous?" I whispered back, voice low enough that only she could hear.
Sarah didn’t even pretend to deny it.
"Yeah," she breathed, eyes darkening. "I’m fucking jealous. Watched her limp away like she’d been ruined... and here I am, still waiting for my turn to get wrecked by that cock."
I chuckled under my breath—quiet, dark.
"You’re coming with us to America, Sarah. Plenty of time on the plane... in the house... wherever. You’ll get your turn. Multiple turns."
Sarah’s breath hitched. She licked her lips—slow, deliberate.
"Don’t worry," she murmured. "I already packed my stuff. Brought it to Marina’s place. We’re all leaving together... and I’m not letting you out of my sight once we’re airborne."
I nodded—just a small tilt of my chin.
"Good girl."
Sarah straightened up—still smirking—then casually stepped aside so Yuko could see me again.
A few minutes later, the door opened.
Samantha returned—carrying a small tray with a steaming bowl of soup, a spoon, and a napkin. She looked flushed from hurrying, but her eyes lit up when they landed on me.