Game Over No Second Chances novel Chapter 166

Serena's nose was buried against Hugh's chest. It had a scent of the cold night air.

But his warmth seeped through.

It had been a long time since she had thrown herself into someone's embrace. For a moment, she was dazed—until the arm around her waist tightened slightly.

"What's wrong?"

The concern in his voice pulled her back to reality. Serena snapped out her reverie—finding the cat was more important!

She had forgotten to close the door earlier, and the little cat wasn't on the rooftop. That meant it must have slipped into the elevator and gone downstairs.

Feeling a bit embarrassed, she quickly stepped back from his embrace and reached out to press the button for the first floor.

"I went down to take out the trash earlier and forgot to close the door. The cat might have run off."

"What does it look like?" Hugh asked.

"A little calico. Its right ear is all warm orange, about this big." Serena stretched out her arm, her fair wrist exposed, gesturing a rough size.

Hugh glanced at what she was wearing. It was cold at night. And she hadn't even thought to put on a coat.

As soon as the elevator doors opened on the first floor, before Serena could step out, Hugh had already propped his suitcase against the side and draped his jacket over her shoulders.

Serena frowned when she saw that he was only wearing a thin silk shirt underneath.

"It's freezing at night, you—"

"I just got back. I'm still warm."

Hugh had already rolled up his sleeves, his sharp gaze sweeping the surroundings as he started searching around the nearby bushes.

Since she couldn't refuse, she might as well accept it.

Wrapped in his oversized jacket, Serena bent down and started looking as well.

They searched around the flower beds, circling back and forth. Just as Serena was considering whether to ask the building management to check the surveillance footage, a soft meowing sound came from nearby.

She turned toward the sound.

Hugh was emerging from the depths of the flower beds, brushing aside some branches in his way. In his hand, he held a squirming little calico cat.

Its tiny nose was speckled with bits of grass, its eyes teary and watery, its limbs flailing anxiously—probably frightened by the elevator and automatic doors.