Tempting Him to Lose Control

Chapter 152: Chapter 152: Miles Warren, She Will Never Love You in This Lifetime

Claire Kendall didn’t think much of it and nodded.

"It’s just a bow-tie company. If you think they’re reliable, that’s all that matters."

Ian Rhodes suppressed the grin in his eyes. "Of course they’re reliable. Alright, Claire, I’ll let you get back to it."

Claire Kendall lowered her gaze and continued scrolling through the photo album, finally settling on a haute couture wedding dress with a white rose theme.

She sent it to Miles Warren.

[Dr. Warren, want to come with me to try on wedding dresses tonight?]

His reply was swift.

[Okay, send me the address.]

That evening, Claire Kendall and the others gradually left the office for the day.

Ian Rhodes stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, his eyes fixed on her back as she got into a taxi before he finally looked away.

He found the photo of the divorce agreement in his album.

With a tap of his finger, he sent it.

’Claire, you can only be mine.’

「Warren Pharma’s parking garage.」

Miles Warren drove straight to the bridal shop. He was ready. The moment Claire Kendall changed into her wedding dress, he would give her the letter in his suit pocket.

A message popped up on his phone—an email from an unknown number.

It was a high-resolution photo.

Black text on a white background.

A divorce agreement.

The two words were blindingly harsh.

His fingers, clutching the phone, froze. Before he could process it, a second photo arrived.

On the signature line was Claire Kendall’s name, signed in a crisp, decisive hand. Each stroke was clean and confident.

He had been looking at her handwriting for ten years; it was so familiar it felt engraved in his very bones.

[Dr. Warren, isn’t it wonderful? If you have time, go take a look in Claire Kendall’s office.]

An icy chill spread through Miles Warren’s palm.

The hopeful glimmer in his eyes from a moment ago froze on his face.

’Impossible.’

He refused to believe what the picture showed.

The sky grew darker, brewing a storm. The air was heavy, thick with a suffocating anxiety.

Clinging to his last shred of sanity, Miles Warren drove to OCHH. The office building was nearly empty. He made his way to Claire Kendall’s office.

He stopped in front of her desk.

He bent down, his fingertips trembling violently as he pulled open her drawer.

He pushed aside sketchbooks and design drafts.

There it was. A divorce agreement—neat, crisp, and clean.

’She really did hide it well.’

Miles Warren clung to a final, desperate sliver of hope as he slowly opened it.

It was an agreement drafted by a professional lawyer, its clauses perfectly clear.

Claire Kendall and Miles Warren, Party A and Party B, voluntarily agreed to dissolve their marital relationship. Party A, Claire Kendall, would leave with nothing, with no further entanglement or involvement.

Every word screamed of her clear-headed resolve.

The world fell deathly silent.

Miles Warren’s fingers, clutching the papers, tightened and trembled more and more violently.

He read it over and over again.

The words subjected him to death by a thousand cuts, again and again.

Ten years had just become a joke.

Miles Warren’s fingers traced her signature, the touch both light and heavy.

He’d never imagined that one day, the mere sight of the name "Claire Kendall" could crush him into a bloody pulp.

He didn’t understand.

When he was in trouble, she had rushed to the old mansion to save him without a second thought. She had accepted his proposal, asked him to go pick out wedding dresses with her, and called him "hubby" in moments of tender affection.

What was real, and what was fake?

The warmth left his heart, inch by inch.

Miles Warren calmly folded the divorce agreement exactly as it had been and placed it back at the bottom of the drawer.

Then he covered it again with the sketchbooks and design drafts, one by one.

’If it’s out of sight, then maybe it won’t be so hard on either of us.’

Miles Warren turned and left.

The moment he stepped out of the office building, a torrential downpour began.

「At the entrance of the building.」

Ian Rhodes was waiting for him, holding an umbrella.

The gentle, jade-like mask the young man wore was completely torn away in that moment. A cold, thin smile touched his lips.

"Did you see it?"

The rain roared around them, but his voice was clear, every word a dagger to the heart.

Miles Warren stood in the downpour, soaked to the bone, but his back was ramrod straight. He didn’t answer, the pressure emanating from him terrifyingly low.

Ian Rhodes stepped closer, holding the umbrella over himself. Rainwater streamed from its edge onto Miles Warren, a gesture full of mockery.

"You sent the email. Your little games are dirty and pathetic." Miles Warren looked up, his voice low. "Claire Kendall doesn’t like you."

Ian Rhodes shrugged, unconcerned. "I know. I know she doesn’t like me. She never will."

"But Miles Warren, she doesn’t like you, either. She never will."

Ian Rhodes smiled, a cruel, vicious thing.

"Her staying by your side, protecting you, agreeing to a wedding—it was all just an act."

He took out his phone and lit up the screen. On it was an exclusive partnership agreement.

OCHH × The Sinclair Family of Quillmore.

"This contract was signed today. The Sinclair Family, Jacob Sinclair. You helped OCHH, so Claire can use OCHH’s resources to help Jacob Sinclair make a comeback."

"Take a good look. They were in love for six years. Claire only loves him. The moment he comes back for her, she will run to him without a second thought."

"And you, Miles Warren, are nothing."

The rain fell harder, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

He wanted to look away, but his eyes were glued to the screen.

The contract bore Claire Kendall’s personal seal. The signature for Party B was Jacob Sinclair.

Miles Warren’s hands, hanging at his sides, clenched into tight fists, his knuckles turning white. His eyes held nothing but a deathly chill.

’Everything she gave me was because of Jacob Sinclair. Ten years of unrequited love.’

Ian Rhodes watched his suppressed, crumbling expression, a light, sinister smile playing on his lips. He turned and walked away, still holding the umbrella.

The fierce wind drove the cold rain, but the chill that spread through Miles was one that seeped out from his very bones.

The string snapped. Utterly and completely.

The man’s limbs began to go numb and tremble uncontrollably. His muscles tightened into excruciating cramps.

The somatization he had kept under control for years erupted all at once.

Miles Warren staggered backward, crashing into a cold pillar. His vision rapidly blackened, and a roar filled his ears.

He struggled to lift his wrist, barely able to hold his phone. After several fumbling attempts, he managed to open his contacts.

’It’s raining. She must still be at the bridal shop, but I don’t think I can pick her up and take her home anymore.’

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