Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 123: Chapter 123: Don’t Move! Vice Raid

The young male model in the white lab coat sat down next to Claire Kendall, the epitome of professionalism, his voice gentle.

"Is this your first time here?"

"I really did graduate from medical school, so you could call me a semi-doctor."

He opened a bottle of wine, poured a glass, and brought it to Claire Kendall’s lips.

"Don’t be sad over a scumbag. Is he as gentle as I am? As thoughtful? As handsome?"

Claire Kendall instinctively pushed the glass away and leaned back. "He..."

’Is gentle, thoughtful, and handsome.’

Seeing her trail off, the male model chimed in, "He must be some short, ugly, broke loser."

"You smell so good. I really like you. I’ll go home with you, free of charge." The male model’s eyes lit up when he saw the Hermès "White House" bag Claire Kendall was carrying. He had to seize this opportunity.

’Usually, the ones he had to wait on were old and ugly. It was rare to get a client this young and beautiful.’

Awkward, Claire Kendall scooted a little further away.

She took a bank card from her purse and handed it to him.

"You studied medicine. That’s such a good field. You shouldn’t be squandering your time in a place like this. There’s fifty thousand on here. It should be enough for your tuition."

The male model took it, looking pitiful. "Thank you, miss. I’ll definitely study hard."

"Miss, can I add you on WhatsApp?"

Claire Kendall forced a smile and shook her head.

Beside her, Sharon Carter was already wasted. Drunk, she had her arm around a young male model with silver-gray hair, caterwauling the lyrics to "Happy Breakup."

The male model in the white coat scooted closer again. Claire Kendall tugged on Sharon’s arm.

"Sharon, maybe we should just go—"

Before she could finish, the door to their private room was violently kicked open from the outside.

"Police! Don’t move!"

"Vice and drug raid! Everybody on the ground!"

The room instantly erupted into chaos. The male models, clearly experienced with this sort of thing, immediately squatted down by the wall, covering their heads.

Sharon Carter was completely plastered. She let out a hiccup, her face a mask of confusion.

It was Claire Kendall’s first time in a situation like this. Startled, she pulled Sharon down with her, imitating the models and squatting at the base of the wall.

The man in the white coat whispered reassuringly, "Don’t be scared, miss. This place is clean. It’s just a routine inspection."

Watching people being led out in a line, a single thought echoed in Claire Kendall’s mind.

’I’m screwed.’

「At the nearest police station.」

Claire Kendall and Sharon Carter were both neatly dressed, and it was obvious they hadn’t done anything untoward. After giving their statements, they were told they could leave.

The male models, on the other hand, were found to have records of solicitation and had to be detained.

"You can go once someone comes to pick you up."

Claire Kendall stammered, "I can get home by myself..."

The officer glanced at her. "It’s too late. It’s not safe. We need a family member to sign you out."

Sitting on a bench, Claire Kendall nudged Sharon. "Can you call a friend to come get us?"

Sharon mumbled a string of slurred, incoherent words, dead drunk to the world.

She scrolled through her contacts from top to bottom. At this hour, the only person she could call was Miles Warren.

-

「At a private restaurant.」

Miles Warren was at a dinner with several leading figures in the medical field. One of them was the father of a classmate of Stella Locke’s from her time abroad, and Stella herself had arranged the gathering.

BUZZ~ His phone vibrated. The name "Claire" flashed on the screen.

Sitting beside him, Stella Locke naturally saw it too, and her fingers tightened around her chopsticks.

Miles Warren nodded apologetically to the table, then stood up and walked aside to take the call.

The other end of the line was noisy. Claire Kendall’s sullen voice came through.

"Dr. Warren."

"You’re not home yet?"

"I’m... at the police station."

Miles Warren froze for a second, his brow furrowing. "Send me the address."

He grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and said apologetically, "Everyone, I’m so sorry. Something urgent has come up. I have to excuse myself."

Stella Locke stood up as well. "Miles, you’ve been drinking. Where are you going? I’ll drive you."

Anxious to get to the station, Miles Warren nodded and accepted her offer.

Claire Kendall sat quietly on the bench, clutching her phone. Sharon was leaning against her, fast asleep.

Getting hauled into a police station during a vice raid when you were married... even though she hadn’t done anything wrong, Claire Kendall still felt a pang of guilt.

Twenty minutes later, Miles Warren arrived.

He was wearing only a dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. He smelled faintly of alcohol, as if he’d rushed over from a dinner party.

His face was expressionless, but having been with him for so long, Claire Kendall could tell at a glance that he was suppressing his anger.

An officer came over with a file and asked a routine question.

"You are..."

Miles Warren took the file and signed his name. "I’m her husband."

"Everything’s in order. You’re free to go."

The officer shot Claire Kendall a meaningful look and added a word of advice.

"Young lady, your husband is this handsome and treats you so well. You shouldn’t go to places like that anymore. It’s dangerous."

Claire Kendall hung her head and mumbled, "I know. Thank you."

The police led the group of recently arrested male models away to change into prison jumpsuits.

Seeing Claire Kendall about to leave, the male model in the white coat started winking and gesturing at her frantically.

"Miss, miss! I want to get out too! Help me!"

"I’ll definitely be a thousand times better to you than that ugly, old, boring scumbag!"

Claire Kendall’s whole body went rigid. She buried her head even lower, quickened her pace, and pretended not to see him.

Miles Warren shot a glance at the male model in the white coat, then lowered his eyes to Claire Kendall.

He let out a laugh that was pure anger, his thin lips curling into a smirk. His voice was glacial.

"This is your type? I had no idea your tastes were so... varied."

"I didn’t..." Her protest sounded especially feeble with the male model right there.

On his way over, Miles Warren had called his assistant to take Sharon Carter home.

Claire Kendall followed him out of the police station like a guilty child.

Outside, they reached the car.

Stella Locke stepped forward, her face etched with concern as she looked at Claire Kendall.

"Claire, are you okay?"

She was wearing a cream-colored dress, her wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, exuding an aura of gentle purity.

Meanwhile, Claire’s own hair was a mess, and she reeked of the club’s stale smoke and alcohol—a complete wreck.

Looking at the two of them standing side-by-side, a bitter pang shot through Claire Kendall’s heart.

’They looked like a perfect match.’

Claire Kendall tugged at the corners of her lips, forcing a smile. "I’m fine."

"That’s good. Miles was so worried when he got your call. We came over as fast as we could."

Stella Locke’s voice was filled with concern, but Claire Kendall heard the underlying message.

’So Miles Warren had been with Stella Locke just now.’

Claire Kendall bit her lip, feeling even more upset.

’If I’d known, I never would have called. I interrupted him catching up with the one he never got over.’

"Miles, let me drive you guys home," Stella Locke offered with a smile. "Where do you live? I’ve never been."

"No need." Miles Warren refused coldly. "Thank you for the trouble, but I’ve already had my car brought over."

Stella Locke froze, unable to hide the awkwardness on her face.

Just then, the assistant pulled up in the car.

Miles Warren pulled open the car door, but Claire Kendall didn’t move.

He said coldly, "What, haven’t had your fun yet?"

Claire Kendall bent over slightly to rub her calf, muttering, "No... my legs fell asleep..."

She had been sitting on the bench for too long, and now that she tried to move, the pins and needles were agonizing.

"You’re so delicate."

Miles Warren’s tone was impatient, but he strode over, bent down, slid one arm under her knees, and scooped her up, placing her in the car.

"Miles, I..." Stella Locke took two steps forward.

Miles Warren looked at her, his tone flat.

"Thank you for today. Get home safe." Then he got straight into the car and signaled for the assistant to drive to Regency Gardens.

Stella Locke stood frozen in place, watching the black sedan drive away. Slowly, one by one, her clenched fingers uncurled.

’Miles Warren, is this the person you’ve loved for ten years?’

’Even if she brought the sky crashing down, you would still indulge her without a second thought.’

Stella Locke smiled, a faint, soft smile. She suddenly felt a sense of resignation.

She could never compete with Miles Warren’s wholehearted devotion.

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