As Nicole released her grip, the small fork clattered to the floor.

Nicole couldn't imagine anyone but Jarrod having a reason to abduct Roscoe.

"Move, you're in my way," Alec muttered, wiping his neck. "Don't worry. I won't lay a finger on you unless Mr. Schultz says so."

Nicole unlocked the restroom, and the two women dashed out, screaming.

Leaning heavily against the wall, Nicole felt a wave of nausea. With a harsh cough, she expelled the alcohol she'd just downed. She sank down, feeling utterly spent.

Just then, Alec's phone buzzed to life. He took the call, answering with a few curt "yes" nods, and then ended the call.

Approaching Nicole, whose face was washed out with fatigue, Alec said icily, "Miss Lawrence, Mr. Schultz wants a word with you."

Nicole's gaze was unfocused, indifferent to his statement.

Alec went on, "He's aware you're worried about Roscoe and has offered to take you to him."

Nicole jerked upright suddenly, a stabbing pain surging through her stomach as though a knife had twisted inside her, her body convulsing with the intensity of the pain.

Alec laughed lightly. "No need to hurry. You'll be reunited with him soon enough."

Nicole followed Alec to a stately private club, its facade exuding grandeur.

Inside, Jarrod was the picture of composure, leisurely drinking tea.

His once unkempt stubble was now neatly shaven, Lending him a slimmer appearance and a more chiseled look.

Adorned with gold-rimmed glasses and perusing financial reports, Jarrod exuded an air of sophistication. Upon noticing Nicole, he offered a smooth smile. “You've arrived?"

Nicole had no time for pleasantries. “Jarrod, where is he?"

“Have you eaten?" Jarrod posed a question that seemed off-topic.

Nicole's mouth fell open, astounded by his indifference. Her eyes filled with desperation. “Jarrod, answer me. Where's Roscoe?"

Jarrod glanced at Alec, inquiring, "Has she eaten?"

Alec shook his head, recounting how Nicole had downed a significant amount of liquor and retched it all back up.