Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 134: Chapter 134: Should I Like Someone Else?

In the backyard, the iron chains of the swing set scraped against the wooden frame, making a faint creaking sound.

Claire Kendall sat on the swing, her feet dangling above the ground as she swayed with its gentle rhythm.

She looked at her bare right hand. The mark where her ring used to be had long since faded, and a hollow feeling settled in her heart.

The door to the tea room was shut tight, and she couldn’t hear a thing.

’What are Miles and Louis Warren talking about? Our divorce? Or is he getting ready to marry the one he never got over?’

A sting pricked Claire Kendall’s nose. ’That heartless man. Just last night, I stayed by his side the entire time, personally nursing him through a high fever.’

’And today he’s just going to call it quits?’

Just as she was thinking this, a tall, slender shadow fell over her. Miles Warren stood before her, looking down.

Keeping her head down, she asked softly, "Is it over?"

Claire Kendall’s lips tightened, and her fingers curled into a fist. ’Is he finally going to tell me?’

"Mm, let’s go home."

She snapped her head up, so surprised that her mouth fell slightly open. "Go home?"

’He’s not going to talk about the divorce?’

She instinctively tried to stand, but her legs, numb and aching, gave way, and she stumbled back onto the swing.

"Legs asleep?"

Miles Warren crouched down, his movements slowed by the pain in his left leg. He reached out, his hand grasping her calf as he began to gently knead it.

"Autumn is setting in here in Aethel. It’s getting chilly in the mornings and evenings. You can’t go around wearing skirts with bare legs anymore."

His palm was hot against her skin. As he held her calf, warmth spread through her leg, and the tingling ache subsided.

He slowly stood, took off his jacket, and wrapped it snugly around her. The faint smell of antiseptic, a scent uniquely his, filled her nostrils.

The numbness in her leg was gone, but now her heart felt both sore and numb.

"Can you walk?"

Claire Kendall shook her head and sniffled, her voice muffled. "I can’t."

He turned, crouching down with his back to her. He supported his weight on his bent left leg, his brow furrowing for a second before he smoothed it out.

"Hop on."

"Miles..." A deeper ache spread through Claire Kendall’s heart.

’We’re about to get a divorce, and he’s still being so good to me. The kinder he is, the harder it is for me to let go.’

He glanced back at her. "What? Would you rather I carry you?"

Claire Kendall shook her head, muttering something under her breath. But as she looked at his broad back, her body betrayed her, and she climbed on, wrapping her arms around his neck.

Miles Warren supported her under the knees and, biting back the pain in his left leg, stood up steadily. The strain on the outside of his knee was excruciating, but he didn’t even let his breathing hitch.

He murmured, "You’ve lost weight. You haven’t been eating well again, have you?"

She buried her face in his shoulder and mumbled, "I have to lose weight, or I won’t be able to fit into the OCHH samples."

"You’re not fat at all."

As they passed through the gate of the old estate, he stumbled slightly on the loose gravel, and a sharp pain shot through the back of his left knee.

Claire Kendall felt the slight stumble. "What’s wrong?"

"Nothing, just stepped on a stone." Miles Warren’s voice was perfectly steady, but beads of cold sweat formed on his forehead. His arms around her tightened, and his pace slowed.

When they reached the car, he leaned over and gently set her down in the back seat.

He straightened up, but Claire Kendall’s arms around his neck didn’t let go.

They were pressed close together.

"Miles..." her voice was a soft whisper. "Could you maybe... like someone else?"

’Don’t love Stella Locke. Don’t love the one you never got over.’

’Love me instead. Could you?’

The last part of the question stayed lodged in her throat. It tumbled around, but ultimately, she couldn’t voice it.

Miles Warren froze. His eyes were deep and dark, their expression unreadable.

Claire waited for his answer.

But he didn’t speak.

In the prolonged silence, Claire Kendall’s fragile hope and impulsiveness crumbled, bit by bit.

She released him, her expression shifting back to one of feigned nonchalance.

"Tch. Like whoever you want, see if I care."

She pulled her arms back and shut the car door. Miles got in from the other side, and the car drove smoothly into Regency Gardens.

Back in their apartment, Claire noticed Miles’s hair was damp, and his shirt collar was wet.

She frowned. "Why are you sweating so much? Are you feeling unwell?"

Miles raised a hand, loosening his tie with a casual air. "No, it’s just a bit stuffy. I’m going to go take a quick shower."

He went straight to the bathroom.

Miles rolled up his pant leg. The area where the bronze statue had hit him was bleeding heavily under the skin, forming a deep, dark bruise. A piece of fabric was stuck to the gash. He plucked it out with tweezers, dabbed the wound with iodine to disinfect it, and finally managed to wrap it with gauze.

’This leg won’t heal for at least a week. I can’t let Claire find out.’

He changed into clean clothes and walked out of the bathroom, his expression as normal as ever.

"It’s so late. Where are you going?"

Miles’s voice was calm and detached. "There’s a surgery at the hospital. I might have to go out of town for a few days starting tomorrow. I’ll ask Mrs. Wells to come over and clean and cook for you."

He added, "And don’t lose weight. It’s not a good look on you when you’re too thin."

She nodded, pressing her lips together. "Then... you be safe."

"Mm." Miles changed his shoes and headed downstairs. The pain from his hastily treated wound was becoming unbearable. He couldn’t stay a moment longer, or he wouldn’t be able to keep it together.

He stood downstairs and lit a cigarette, using the nicotine to dull the pain. He was about to call Jonathan Keller to come pick him up for the hospital. He couldn’t drive in his current state.

"Miles Warren!"

A sharp, piercing female voice grew closer. Stella Locke had parked her car and was now rushing straight toward him.

She pointed at her phone screen, which showed a WhatsApp group for Aethel’s elite socialites—all of them heirs and heiresses, the city’s rich and powerful.

[Have you guys heard? Miles Warren got kicked out of The Warren Family by his old man. Disowned him completely.]

[That guy? He’s a total good-for-nothing, always been spoiled by his dad. Let’s see how cocky he is now.]

[Well, he’s such a ’high and mighty’ top doctor. We can’t possibly afford to offend him!]

[Without The Warren Family, he’s a fucking nobody!]

...

The chat group was flooded with a tide of mockery and insults. Miles Warren had become the laughingstock of Aethel’s high society.

The fall from a powerful family’s most coveted heir to a disowned son was a story ripe for speculation.

Miles glanced at the screen, his expression blank. "You came all this way just to show me this?"

Stella Locke looked frantic. "Miles, I know you love her, and I know you don’t care about the Warren Group, but... but there are so many other ways to handle this! You could just back down a little, plead with Mr. Warren!"

"That’s not necessary. Thank you for your concern." Miles had his own reasons.

’As long as Louis Warren still wanted him to be the heir to the Warren Group, that title would only bring trouble for Claire.’

’His grandfather would target her, and so would Victor Warren.’

’Using this opportunity to sever that connection for good would keep her safer.’

"Miles!" Stella Locke grabbed his arm, but he pulled away. "Is doing this really worth it?"

In apartment 501 of Regency Gardens, Claire Kendall stood by the floor-to-ceiling window. Her eyelashes fluttered as she watched the two of them tangled together below.

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