Chapter 58: Crushing Him in the Palm of My Hand

Chapter 58: Chapter 58: Crushing Him in the Palm of My Hand

Faint, suggestive sounds drifted from Rosalind Linden’s room.

In the lounge directly across from her, it was pitch-black.

Miles Warren was leaning almost his entire weight on Claire Kendall.

His head rested in the crook of her neck, the thread of his reason about to snap...

"Miles Warren, are you okay?"

Struggling to hold him up, her back pressed against the cold door, Claire Kendall was trapped.

"Straighten up a bit. I’ll help you to the bed."

As she spoke, she tried to wriggle out from under him.

The man didn’t move, a muffled groan escaping his throat.

Claire Kendall could clearly sense his struggle for control, his forced restraint.

His breathing was ragged, and his voice was so hoarse that each word was nearly unrecognizable.

"Claire Kendall, you... get out."

She tugged her wrist but couldn’t break his grip.

Sweat soaked his short hair and shirt.

But a smile played in Claire Kendall’s eyes, and she remained perfectly still.

She watched him struggle, watched him in his agony, watched as he lost control bit by bit and slowly gave in.

Claire Kendall knew very well.

’This method may be despicable and base, but right now, she could easily pluck this lofty flower, crush it, and have him wrapped around her little finger.’

She didn’t shy away, wrapping her arms around his lean waist.

"Oh, Dr. Warren," her voice was light and soft.

"You know, if you can’t hold back, you could always..."

Her final words, each one crystal clear, burrowed into Miles Warren’s mind.

Claire Kendall raised a finger, tracing it over his Adam’s apple and letting it trail down, inch by inch.

"Get it off."

He staggered backward, trying to put some distance between them.

But the drug was still in full effect. His feet tangled, and his tall frame collapsed onto the sofa behind him.

He threw an arm over his forehead, eyes closed, his chest heaving as he struggled to maintain the last shred of clarity.

"Call... Jonathan Keller..."

Claire Kendall moved closer and tapped his lips with her finger.

"Calling Dr. Keller this late? I don’t think that’s such a good idea."

"Dr. Warren, you want me, don’t you? Your body is much more honest than your mouth."

In the dim room, lit by the faint moonlight from the window.

She knelt by the sofa and slowly, deliberately, began to unfasten the buttons of her qipao at her neck.

One, two, three... then the ones at her side...

’Rosalind Linden had handed her this opportunity on a silver platter. Of course she was going to make the most of it.’

"Claire Kendall..."

Miles Warren suddenly shot out a hand, cupping the back of her neck and pulling her toward him.

It wasn’t gentle. It was more like the ravenous bite of a wild animal. The man’s scent engulfed her, as if he meant to devour her whole.

After a long moment, Miles Warren finally released her.

"Claire Kendall, that’s enough..."

"But Dr. Warren, you’re drugged. How could this possibly be enough?"

Miles Warren suddenly seized her wandering hand.

The veins on the back of his hand bulged, his knuckles turning white.

"Claire Kendall, do you have any idea what you’re doing?"

"Of course I do, Dr. Warren."

Her eyes curved, and she looked like a cunning little vixen.

"Saving a life brings more merit than building a seven-story pagoda."

"Be good now. I won’t go all the way~"

In that instant, it was as if Miles Warren had been bewitched.

As if resigning himself to his fate, he obediently released her hand.

Claire Kendall’s pink qipao was crumpled and wrinkled, but the few buttons at her side were still done up tight.

No matter how forward she was, it was no use. This man’s self-control was bone-deep.

After a long while, the drug’s effects gradually subsided, and the man’s breathing slowly evened out.

Lying on her side, Claire Kendall stared at him, watching as he put his clothes back on one by one—the same clothes she had pulled off him with her own hands.

She lay there, her voice full of coquettish indulgence.

"Miles Warren, I’m thirsty~"

He got up, poured a cup of warm water, and brought it to her lips.

"Your clothes... they’re ruined."

"I’ll have someone send a new set over." He walked out onto the balcony to make a call, reciting her exact sizes.

’He just won’t admit it.’

’And here he is, knowing me so well~’

She stared at Miles Warren’s focused profile as he spoke on the phone, a small smile curving her lips.

’They hadn’t gone all the way, but she’d taken every liberty with Miles Warren.’

’Except in the end, she was the one who was overpowered.’

’Where was even a hint of the proper, abstinent doctor she knew from the hospital?’

"Dr. Warren," she bit her lip. "Last night... that wasn’t your first time, was it?"

Miles Warren didn’t make a sound, but the tops of his ears flushed red.

The corners of her eyes crinkled, and her smile widened.

Miles Warren arranged for a clean change of clothes to be delivered for her.

Claire Kendall looked at the crumpled mess of her Flowing Light Brocade qipao on the bed and couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

’The fabric, the embroidery... The master craftsmen of Wexall Village had poured so much effort into it.’

Looking at the stained qipao and its ambiguous implications, the man’s eyes were dark and unreadable, his voice somewhat hoarse.

"I’ll replace it."

"Oh? My, aren’t you generous, Dr. Warren~~"

She sat on the bed. Thinking back to last night, she said,

"I saw someone at the venue who had a very similar build to yours. His clothes and hairstyle had been deliberately styled to match. Rosalind Linden must have hired him."

"Her plan was meticulous. Even if you hadn’t been drugged, she had a double ready to frame you."

She drew out her words, her tone laced with jealousy.

"But then again, you *were* the one who agreed to have dinner with Ms. Linden, weren’t you?"

Miles Warren paused, then explained in a low voice.

"She was the one who leaked your mother’s condition to Howard Kendall, so I advised her to resign."

’Claire had actually figured that out already.’

’Howard Kendall had never shown any concern for Shirley Kendall’s illness. Why would he suddenly start sending threatening texts demanding money?’

’But Rosalind is the hospital director’s daughter, after all. It’s all just too complicated, too messy...’

Claire Kendall hadn’t expected that Miles Warren would actually get to the bottom of it for her.

Feeling a little abashed, she pouted. "Then what about the handkerchief? You even wiped her tears with it."

"That handkerchief was one she made. She tried to give it to me, but I didn’t accept it."

’So that’s what happened.’

That little, indescribable knot of unease in Claire Kendall’s heart was finally smoothed away.

She knelt on the bed, straightened her back, and looked at him, blinking.

"So now, Dr. Warren, do you need me to take responsibility for you?"

"After all, last night... I’ve seen and touched it all..."