Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 128: Chapter 128: My Good Husband, So Willing to Serve Me?

Claire Kendall scheduled business meetings with several small-scale apparel manufacturers.

Without a large-scale factory like Holt Apparel, an order for 200,000 units would require at least five manufacturers to work together to complete.

Not only was it more expensive, but it was also a huge hassle.

「The Vermilion」

Claire Kendall arrived half an hour early. She checked the seating arrangements and the menu in the private room, then went back downstairs to wait.

OCHH was in a tough spot right now, and everyone in the industry was avoiding it like the plague.

These manufacturers weren’t large operations, but Claire Kendall still went to the ground floor to greet them personally, a clear show of sincerity.

"Mr. Webb, right this way."

"Mr. Bishop, it’s been a while."

...

Claire Kendall exchanged warm pleasantries as Wendy White helped her greet the guests. One by one, the manufacturers filed into the restaurant.

The men sized up Claire Kendall.

One of them spoke up. "Haha, Ms. Kendall, it really has been a while. Didn’t Mr. Warren come with you today?"

Claire Kendall pressed her red lips together.

’So they agreed to come so readily because of my status as "Mrs. Warren."’

She curved her lips into a faint smile, feigning composure. "He’s busy at the hospital, and I didn’t want to bother him."

The words had barely left her mouth when two people, a man and a woman, walked in through the door.

Miles Warren and Stella Locke.

He was dressed casually, the top two buttons of his shirt undone, revealing the sharp lines of his collarbone and giving him a noble air. Stella Locke followed behind him in a simple, waist-cinching white dress, looking pure and gentle.

The lie Claire Kendall had just told was instantly exposed.

’So much for being busy at the hospital. He was clearly busy escorting another woman.’

The air instantly froze. The expressions on everyone’s faces became incredibly awkward.

"Claire?" Stella Locke spotted her and greeted her first.

Claire Kendall quickly averted her gaze, pretending not to see or hear anything, and ushered her guests toward the private room on the second floor.

The factory owners exchanged a look of unspoken understanding.

’Looks like they’re probably already divorced.’

But since they were already here, it would be rude to leave. They followed Claire Kendall into the private room.

"Thank you all for coming today. I won’t beat around the bush; I’ll get straight to the point. I’d like to discuss a business deal with you all—an order for two hundred thousand units..."

Mr. Bishop leaned back in his chair, his belly protruding, while Mr. Wright held his wine glass, his eyes darting around.

"Hey, hey, Ms. Kendall," someone interjected, "we’ve all finally gotten together. We should at least have a couple of drinks first."

No one was taking Claire Kendall seriously. They were all just here for the drama, mocking her situation.

Claire Kendall suppressed her anger, raised her glass, and downed it in one go.

"Thank you all for gracing me with your presence."

Mr. Webb swirled the wine in his glass and spoke with a sneer.

"Ms. Kendall, you’re a married woman. Why are you getting involved in OCHH’s mess? Your priority should be at home, serving your husband well and keeping his heart."

The others chimed in with agreement.

"Exactly, Ms. Kendall. You’ve got your priorities mixed up—you’re losing the watermelon to pick up a sesame seed. It’s not easy to marry into the Warren family, you know."

"Hey, that woman with Mr. Warren is a designer too, right? I think they went to the same school."

Claire Kendall changed the subject.

"Gentlemen, let’s get back to the partnership. As long as you can complete the order on time, OCHH is willing to offer a higher price."

"What’s the rush? Pour the wine, pour the wine! Claire Kendall, you’re the host today. What’s the meaning of this if you don’t drink with us until we’re satisfied?"

Claire Kendall gripped her glass, resisting the urge to throw its contents in their faces, and drank a second one.

Wendy White stood up to stop her. She was timid, but she placed herself in front of Claire Kendall.

"Sirs, Claire’s not a good drinker. I’ll drink for her..."

A glass SLAMMED down on the table.

"Who the hell do you think you are? What gives you the right to drink in her place?"

Claire Kendall gestured for Wendy White to sit down, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

"You’re right, gentlemen. My sincerity was lacking. I’ll toast you all again."

Although she wasn’t drunk, her stomach was churning uncomfortably. Seeing that the men were deep in conversation, she stood up. "Excuse me, I need to step out for a moment."

A few low chuckles followed her from behind.

"A divorced woman isn’t worth a damn."

"Being pretty is useless. The Warren family is huge and powerful; they’d never approve of this kind of woman."

...

Claire Kendall’s steps faltered for a second, but she suppressed her emotions and pushed open the door to the private room.

Just as she stepped out, a server pushing a cart hurried past, moving too fast to stop in time.

"THUD!"

The cart slammed into Claire Kendall’s shin, and a wheel rolled over the top of her foot. She stumbled, nearly falling over.

The server was a young girl who was terrified. She bowed repeatedly in apology.

"I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t see you."

"I was in a rush to serve a table... I... your foot! I’ll pay for your medical expenses..."

She was just a young girl fresh out in the working world; Claire Kendall didn’t give her a hard time.

"It’s fine. You can go back to your work."

Her foot was throbbing. Claire Kendall limped over to a deserted spot by the second-floor railing.

Her eyes grew warm and her nose tingled, but the tears didn’t fall.

’There’s nothing to cry about. It must be Mercury in retrograde lately.’

She composed herself, preparing to return to the private room.

When she turned around, she ran right into a "human wall."

Miles Warren was standing in front of her, blocking her path.

His gaze was heavy as it fell on her foot. "Are you hurt?"

Claire Kendall turned her head away, ignoring him, and tried to walk forward despite the pain.

Miles Warren grabbed her and pulled her back, making her head bump against his chest.

"Bobby was throwing a fit, demanding dessert from this place. Stella Locke knows the head chef here, so I drove her over to pick some up. She’s already gone to the main house."

He took out his phone and played a WhatsApp voice message. It was Bobby’s fiercely cute, unhappy voice, whining about wanting blueberry cake from The Vermilion.

Another well-reasoned, irrefutable explanation.

Claire Kendall sneered, not bothering to respond.

"Oh. That has nothing to do with me."

"Get out of my way."

Her voice was soft and delicate, lacking any real menace.

Miles Warren squatted down directly, reaching for her ankle to check the injury.

It wasn’t a serious injury from the cart, but a large area had swollen up. It needed to be iced immediately to reduce the swelling.

She slapped his hand away. "Don’t touch me."

This time, Miles Warren didn’t listen. He stood up, wrapped one arm around her waist, and lifted her into his arms.

Suddenly airborne, Claire Kendall was startled and cried out, "Miles Warren!"

"Behave." He raised his hand and gave her a light pat on the butt.

’This bastard. He’s gotten addicted to hitting me, has he?’

Claire Kendall quickly looked around. Thankfully, no one had seen them.

He carried Claire Kendall to an empty lounge, placed her on the sofa, and then went to get an ice pack and a first-aid kit.

Miles Warren knelt on one knee, took her foot, slipped off her high heel, and rested her leg on his own knee.

He focused on massaging her foot with medicinal liniment, and the pain immediately subsided quite a bit.

Claire Kendall felt no gratitude, only rage.

’Didn’t he just secretly help Stella Locke steal her resources? What’s with this devoted husband act now?’

’Hah. He’s just putting on this gentle charade because he’s afraid of being criticized, right?’

’Fine. You want to play the part of a good husband? Okay, then!’

A vengeful impulse swelled in Claire Kendall’s heart. She lifted her other, uninjured leg.

Her bare foot came to rest directly on his shoulder.

Her toes hooked the collar of his shirt, pressing down firmly as she spoke with vicious words.

"My dear husband, you’re just so eager to serve me, aren’t you?"

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