Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 139: Chapter 139: He Saw You Long Ago

Inside the banquet hall, all eyes simultaneously focused on Claire Kendall.

The gossamer silk qipao shimmered softly under the lights, its gold-thread embroidery glinting with Claire Kendall’s every move. It was clearly a priceless piece.

Wallace Sutton’s tone was sincere and earnest. "Ms. Kendall, I’d like to offer you three million for the qipao you’re wearing. I wonder if you would be willing to part with it?"

Claire Kendall instinctively glanced at Miles Warren beside her.

He nodded calmly. "Since it was originally the centerpiece of Wallace’s early collection, it should be returned to its rightful owner after the banquet. There’s no need to talk about money."

Wallace Sutton let out a hearty laugh. "Not long ago, Dr. Warren flew all the way to Norsen to perform surgery on my mother, and now he gifts me this qipao. I’ve only just arrived in Aethel, but I’m determined to make a friend out of you!"

The gazes of the surrounding guests toward Miles Warren grew complicated.

The magnate behind Wallace Apparel had just arrived in Aethel, and the person he was actively befriending was none other than Miles Warren, who had just been kicked out of the Warren Family.

"But didn’t someone just say this qipao was a piece of junk?" Wallace Sutton shot a cold, pointed glance at Yvonne Warren. "Well, it seems the world is full of blind fools."

"Since it’s my first day here, I’ll let it slide. But if this happens again, know this: even if you’re a tiger, Wallace can still pull your fangs."

Yvonne Warren swallowed nervously, not daring to make a sound as she silently took two steps back. The other guests also distanced themselves, afraid of being mistaken for an associate by Wallace Sutton.

Wallace Sutton extended an invitation. "Dr. Warren, could we speak in private for a moment?"

Miles Warren nodded, then looked at Claire Kendall, noticing a damp spot on the chest of her qipao, likely from when the wine was splashed on her.

"Mr. Sutton, would you mind having your assistant bring a shawl for my wife?"

Wallace Sutton snapped his fingers, and the female secretary beside him immediately understood.

He murmured, "If you get tired of standing, go sit down for a bit. I’ll be right back."

Just as the two men left, Wallace Sutton’s secretary approached with a shawl and handed it to Claire Kendall.

"Thank you."

The capable-looking secretary smiled, her eyes filled with envy.

"Ms. Kendall, I can’t believe that after all these years, after all the twists and turns, you actually ended up with Dr. Warren. Is this what they call fate?"

"Huh?" Claire Kendall was stunned. "’Fate...?’"

"Yes! You didn’t know?"

"At the International Design Competition back then, from the audience judges’ section, it was Dr. Warren who gave your design the highest score."

"He even wrote a note on the ballot, something like, ’Congratulations, my sun.’ He said your Nova Series collection warmed him like the sun."

"I was there with Mr. Sutton and saw that audience note. I was so moved and excited! It was like he perfectly captured the essence of your work: warmth, and a sense of breaking free to be reborn."

The more the secretary spoke, the more excited she became, looking like she was completely caught up in their ship. "I never would have guessed you two would end up married!"

Claire Kendall froze, a thin layer of sweat instantly forming on her palms.

’Congratulations, my sun.’

’That was the note Clementine dragged out of the study!’

’No wonder it had the International Design Competition’s official watermark. The judging for the competition back then was split into three parts: the professional judges, online voting, and live scoring from the audience members.’

’And for the audience scoring, you could write encouraging messages on the ballots to rally support.’

Claire Kendall’s eyelashes lowered.

’So the word "star" on that note... she had misunderstood.’

’It wasn’t for Stella Locke’s name. It was a reference to her Nova Series collection.’

Her mind went completely blank. ’So, Miles Warren knew her all along? Or did he just happen to like the Nova Series collection back then?’

’But either way, that note had nothing to do with Stella Locke.’

Claire Kendall pressed her lips together tightly.

"Nati, hello, I’m the director of Eleganza Apparel. Are you interested in a collaboration?"

"Ms. Kendall, Iverson can offer you an expansive design platform and help you recreate the legend of the Nova Series."

"I’ve met you a few times before, Ms. Kendall, but I never imagined you were Nati."

...

A crowd of people surged forward after learning that Claire Kendall was the designer Nati.

Behind them, Yvonne Warren gnashed her teeth viciously. ’Miles Warren has already been kicked out of the Warren Family, so how am I the background character again?!’

Claire Kendall looked at the people around her, her thoughts a complete mess. She was in no mood to talk about collaborations.

Right now, her mind was filled with nothing but Miles Warren.

Because of her, he was disinherited by Louis Warren. Because of her, he was ridiculed online. And she had actually held up her phone and made him analyze the situation with her.

His words replayed in her mind over and over.

"Perhaps... he has his reasons."

A sour, astringent feeling welled up in her throat as bitterness spread through her.

"I’m sorry," she said, pushing away the business cards offered to her and forcing a polite but distant smile. "I’m not feeling well. Please excuse me."

Claire Kendall turned, skirted the crowd, and headed for the deserted bar in a corner of the banquet hall.

Several spare bottles of whiskey for the banquet sat on the bar.

She sat down on a lounge chair by the bar, grabbed a bottle, and recklessly took a few large gulps.

As the alcohol burned its way down her throat, a stifling panic seized her heart.

It felt like the unshakable damp of the rainy season, like a volcano that stops mid-eruption, like the wreckage strewn across a shore after floodwaters have receded. It wasn’t pain, but an unbearable, acrid feeling.

She raised the bottle and drank nearly half of it, her gaze growing hazy.

Her hand dropped, and the bottle fell to the floor with a CLATTER.

She reached down to feel for it, and as her hand searched, it brushed against a pair of leather shoes.

She looked up. Miles Warren had returned at some point.

He was looking down at her, his voice low and gentle. "Had a bit too much?"

Claire Kendall pulled her hand back and slumped onto the lounge chair, looking at him with the corners of her eyes flushed red.

The man’s cool eyes were filled with a mixture of helplessness and indulgence. He bent down, picked up the bottle, set it aside, and then took out a handkerchief to wipe the trace of liquor from the corner of her lips.

"How much did you drink?"

Claire Kendall didn’t answer. She reached out and tugged on his cuff. Her lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she swallowed her words. The only change was her fingers tightening their grip on his sleeve.

Miles Warren didn’t press her. He bent down and scooped her up from the lounge chair. Claire Kendall reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck.

The scent of alcohol mixed with her own light fragrance wafted over him. Miles Warren’s gaze remained fixed on the woman in his arms.

"Your leg..." Claire Kendall mumbled drunkenly, still thinking of his injury. She struggled to get down.

"It’s fine. Don’t move. I’m not putting weight on my left leg."

He carried Claire Kendall through the banquet hall.

Her head was nestled against his chest like a sleeping kitten.

Everyone’s eyes were on him, and they whispered among themselves, but he paid them no mind, moving as naturally as if he had done this a hundred times before.

Yvonne Warren sneered darkly. "Those two bastards really know how to make a spectacle of themselves! Aren’t they just trying to get attention?"

Stella Locke shot her a look. "Did you forget what Wallace Sutton said earlier?"

Yvonne Warren glanced around warily and immediately shut her mouth.

Stella Locke watched the couple’s retreating backs, set down her wine glass, and gave a self-deprecating smile. ’Compared to the secret love Miles has harbored for all these years, my own feelings are hardly worth mentioning.’

At the entrance to the banquet hall, Wallace Sutton hurried after them.

"Dr. Warren, Ms. Kendall is..."

"It’s nothing, she just drank too much. I’m taking her home. If she doesn’t sober up properly, she’ll have a headache tomorrow."

Wallace Sutton understood at once. "I’ll have my driver take you."

"No need, my car is outside."

"Then about the collaboration..." Wallace Sutton’s voice rose, a hint of anxiety in it. Aside from Aethel, he had always wanted to expand his Norsen apparel business internationally.

Miles Warren put a finger to his lips, then glanced down to indicate the person in his arms was asleep.

"I’ll arrange it," he said, then paused before adding in a low voice, "It’s just that, regarding the ones who bullied my wife today... I was only holding back out of respect for Wallace’s reputation."

"Understood, Mr. Warren. I will be sure to ’take good care’ of them."

Miles Warren carried Claire Kendall down the steps. The woman in his arms had passed out completely.

The car door opened, and Miles Warren set her down with extreme gentleness.

The soft, silvery moonlight spilled onto her face. Her breathing was long and even... Miles Warren leaned over and simply stared at her for a long time.

’Love her, protect her, and trap her with a marriage certificate.’

’He saved lives and healed the sick, but he was never a saint.’

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