Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 111: Chapter 111: Claire Kendall, It’s Daytime

"Claire Kendall, am I that petty?"

Claire Kendall muttered under her breath, "Sharon and I ate spicy fried chicken for four years straight. Who would’ve thought you can’t handle spicy food."

"Sharon?"

"What about her?"

Miles Warren fell silent, his eyes downcast. He had thought the dish was a special memory between her and Jacob Sinclair, but it turned out to be just with her college roommate.

A weight he’d been carrying for some time suddenly lifted.

"It’s nothing," he said, his tone back to normal.

Claire Kendall eyed him suspiciously. ’Something feels off,’ she thought, ’but I can’t quite put my finger on it.’

"How are you feeling now? I’ll go get a doctor."

"No need."

She patted Miles Warren, signaling for him to make some room. "I’ll get up and lie with you for a bit, then."

With that, she avoided putting weight on her injured left leg and used her right to climb onto the bed.

"Claire Kendall, it’s the middle of the day."

"Dr. Warren, what are you thinking about? I’m just going to innocently lie with you." Claire Kendall’s hand rested on his waist.

Then she felt an undeniable presence pressing against the outside of her thigh.

"Dr. Warren, it’s the middle of the day."

For a split second, Miles Warren’s expression cracked before he regained his composure. "It’s... involuntary."

"Oh..." Claire Kendall drew out the sound, her gaze flicking downward with a meaningful look.

Miles Warren closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"...Let’s just sleep."

"Can you?"

"..."

That evening, Claire Kendall opened X and logged into a long-dormant account: Nati.

The last time she’d used it to post a promotion was for the "Rising Star" collection six years ago.

The page loaded, revealing tens of thousands of unread direct messages.

Confessions from fans, invitations from brands...

She thought for a moment, typed a single line, and hit send.

[I’m back.]

In less than a minute, the two-word post shot to the top of the trending list, and the comments section exploded.

[Nati, did you finally remember your password?]

[Is this Nati, the designer of the Rising Star collection?]

[Are you releasing a new design? Hurry, hurry, I can’t wait! I’m still wearing my Rising Star pieces!]

[Queen Na is finally making her comeback! I’ve waited six years for this.]

Nati was one of the few fashion designers with a massive fanbase.

A single post was all it took to build momentum for OCHH during its lowest point.

「The Warren Family’s ancestral home.」

Victor Warren frowned as he looked at the post that had gone viral across the internet. "Who is this Nati?"

Yvonne Warren answered warily, "Dad, Nati is OCHH’s star designer. She put down her pen six years ago. I don’t know why she’s suddenly reappeared."

Victor Warren scoffed. "They think one designer can turn things around for OCHH? Wishful thinking."

He tapped the desk. "I want you to contact her. Poach her for the Warren Group within a week."

「Three days later.」

Claire Kendall was discharged from the hospital and prepared to go to the OCHH office.

Miles Warren had surgery that morning. "I’ll have the driver take you."

"No need, my leg is fine now. Ian Rhodes is waiting for me downstairs. I’ll go over with him."

Miles Warren’s fingers, in the middle of buttoning his white coat, paused. "How convenient for him."

Claire Kendall, busy gathering her documents, looked up. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Miles Warren’s expression was cold and distant.

Seeing him like this, looking a bit like a big, abandoned puppy, Claire Kendall couldn’t resist. ’Who could possibly resist that?’ she thought.

She leaned in, stood on her tiptoes, and planted a light kiss on his cheek. "Wait for me to come home tonight, okay?"

Miles Warren froze for a second, then nodded. "Okay."

「OCHH headquarters.」

Between the employees who had been poached and those who had resigned, very few people were left at their desks. Some were just now packing their things, heading out after finalizing their departure.

The atmosphere was oppressive.

With Lindsay Joyce out on sick leave, it was a classic case of rats deserting a sinking ship.

Claire Kendall stood at the entrance, her voice not loud, but exceptionally clear.

"Everyone who’s left, meet in the conference room in ten minutes."

The employees looked up, their eyes filled with confusion as they stared at Claire Kendall.

The senior staff had all left, so none of the remaining employees recognized her.

"Who are you? New hire?"

Ian Rhodes explained, "This is Claire Kendall, Ms. Kendall. She’s taking over for Ms. Joyce and will be temporarily in charge of all OCHH operations."

The group began to mutter amongst themselves.

"Dropped in from above? The company’s about to go under anyway."

"She’s pretty, though."

"Whatever. I’m already looking for a new job."

The group straggled into the conference room.

Claire Kendall scanned the room. Of the massive OCHH workforce, only these twenty-some people remained, most of them rookies.

"Let me introduce myself. My name is Claire Kendall, and I co-founded OCHH with Ms. Joyce."

"I’m here today to tell you all one thing: OCHH will not go bankrupt."

The conference room was silent for a few seconds, then the murmuring grew even louder.

"Not go bankrupt? What’s going to support it? All the managers have run off, and the production lines have stopped."

"If I’d known it would come to this, I’d have rather we were just acquired by the Warren Group from the start!"

"Ms. Kendall, perhaps you don’t fully understand our current situation?"

Just as Claire Kendall was about to speak, the conference room door was suddenly thrown open from the outside.

Yvonne Warren stood in the doorway, her makeup flawless and her expression haughty, flanked by two assistants in sharp suits.

She was taken aback for a moment upon seeing Claire Kendall, then a sarcastic smile spread across her face.

"Ms. Kendall, the designer? What, are you here to get a piece of the OCHH pie, too?"

"But does a small-time outfit like Moonstone really have that big of an appetite?"

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