Chapter 162: Had Your Fun? Now It’s My Turn.

Chapter 162: Chapter 162: Had Your Fun? Now It’s My Turn.

The car reached the entrance of Regency Gardens, and Miles slowed down.

As the gate opened and he was about to drive in, the dappled light from a streetlamp illuminated the stiff figure of a man.

Ian Rhodes.

His hair was a mess, and he looked pathetic, pacing restlessly by the entrance.

’So his little trick of filing a false report didn’t work. Claire was unmoved, refusing to bow down or break up with him. Has he come up with some other disgusting idea now?’

’Or is he here to apologize to Claire? He knows she’s soft-hearted. That she might forgive him for the sake of OCHH’s early days and because he was her junior for all those years.’

’Disgusting creature.’

Miles looked up, and their eyes met.

The tenderness he showed Claire was instantly sealed away, leaving only a bone-chilling darkness in his eyes.

He gripped the steering wheel, wanting to slam his foot on the accelerator.

’Run him over.’

The crazed, blatant thought surged through his mind. ’This guy just keeps provoking me, provoking my Claire, again and again.’

’Even if he died, no one could do a thing to me.’

The tires scraped against the pavement, and the car’s body shuddered.

But Miles stopped himself. His little girl was sleeping in the car. He couldn’t scare her, and he certainly couldn’t let her sense his dark side.

He suppressed the viciousness in his heart and slightly lowered the window on Claire’s side.

Aided by the streetlamp, Ian immediately saw Claire sleeping soundly in Miles’s car. Miles had one hand on the steering wheel; he raised the other, his long, well-defined fingers reaching out.

Very lightly, very slowly, he gently brushed a stray strand of hair from Claire’s forehead. His fingertips grazed her fair, soft cheek in a deliberately ostentatious display.

"Senior! Senior..."

Before Ian could shout again, Miles closed the window.

Ian chased after the car like a madman until he was stopped by the security guards at the Regency Gardens entrance. In the rearview mirror, Miles could see his composure shatter, see his resentment and insanity.

A cold smirk touched Miles’s lips, but his gaze softened as he looked at the sleeping figure in the passenger seat.

’What’s the point of playing games?’

’Claire is mine, and she can only be mine.’

The car entered the underground garage. Miles folded the blanket that was covering her and helped unbuckle her seatbelt. "Claire, wake up. We’re home. Go to bed."

"Mmm, we’re home..." She slowly opened her eyes, a pitiable mistiness clouding her gaze.

Rubbing her eyes, she obediently followed Miles, letting him lead her by the hand.

She asked, puzzled, "I think I was dreaming just now. I dreamt someone was calling me ’Senior’."

Miles’s hand paused as he was unlocking the door. He said in a low voice, "You misheard."

Once inside, Claire was no longer sleepy. She curled up on the sofa to chat on her phone while Miles went to take a shower.

Her phone vibrated. It was a message from Lindsay Joyce, short and to the point.

[You there? Pick someone.]

Following the message were several photos of male celebrities. They were probably choosing a spokesperson for the Urban Traveler menswear line. Lindsay had mostly recovered and was gradually getting back to handling OCHH’s business.

On the screen, one handsome, distinguished-looking star appeared after another.

She was quite interested in this sort of thing.

She sat on the sofa with her legs crossed, holding her phone and carefully swiping through the pictures to compare them.

[This one isn’t quite right. He’s a bit too delicate, doesn’t fit the traveler theme.]

[This one’s a definite no. I heard from a friend that he really plays the field and has tons of rumored girlfriends. His agency is just keeping it all under wraps.]

[This one’s not bad. Great proportions.]

...

Claire sent her comments and even zoomed in on the photo of the one she’d chosen.

She was completely unaware of the man slowly approaching from behind her, the temperature around Miles already dropping.

’His wife was looking at other men.’

’A bunch of common pretty boys.’

’Am I not handsome enough? Is my body not good enough? Does she think I’m too old?’

He leaned in, pressing close to her ear from behind. His voice was low, filled with possessiveness and dominance.

"Nice to look at?"

"Had your fill?"

Claire realized he was jealous and quickly explained.

"Lindsay sent them to me. We’re picking a spokesperson. It’s for work."

Miles circled around to face her and snatched the phone from her hand.

"Done playing?"

He glanced down, asking in a low voice as he slowly twisted the wedding ring off his ring finger. With a soft scrape, the cool metal band slid off his skin.

He placed it gently on the coffee table beside them.

"Now, it’s my turn to play."

Claire’s mind went blank. Her instincts screamed that this was bad, and she instinctively tried to shrink back.

She moved fast, twisting her body to roll to the other side of the sofa, but just as her feet touched the soft carpet, a large hand clamped around her ankle.

Not too tight, not too loose. The pressure was just right.

He used almost no effort, simply pulling her back, and Claire was dragged away from the edge of the sofa.

"Why are you running?" He pressed his knee onto the edge of the sofa, his shadow completely enveloping her.

"Miles..." Her voice trembled, lacking confidence. "I have to go to the hospital tomorrow to discuss the spokesperson with Lindsay. You can’t be too rough tonight."

A drop of water from his wet hair fell onto her collarbone, and the cold made her flinch.

"Miles, don’t act recklessly."

"Act recklessly?" he repeated her words. "When have I ever been reckless with you?"

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear.

"Claire, when have I not devoted myself to pleasing you?"

He pulled her up slightly. The tie of her bathrobe had already come loose, and with a casual tug from Miles, the robe slid halfway off.

"Don’t leave any marks..." It was Claire’s last-ditch struggle, but it seemed useless.

Her breathy voice came out in broken fragments. "Miles, you’re like a dog!"

「The next day.」

Claire’s entire body was sore and weak. Red marks covered her neck and collarbone, so she had no choice but to pick a turtleneck from her closet.

After breakfast, Miles and Claire headed to Aethel General Hospital.

Claire was going to see Lindsay Joyce, while Miles, who had already resigned, was going to pack up his office.

Miles accompanied Claire to the inpatient ward first.

The door to the VIP room wasn’t fully closed, and from inside came the restrained, suppressed, and pained voice of a man.

She frowned and quickened her pace.

Ian Rhodes was standing by the hospital bed, looking disheveled and haggard. His eyes were bloodshot, and he had an air of pathetic defeat.

His head was bowed and his shoulders slumped. He was crying so hard his eyes were red, his posture humble and pitiful.

"Lindsay, I really know I was wrong..."

"I was possessed for a moment, blinded by jealousy. That’s why I spread rumors to slander OCHH, why things with Claire got so bad."

"I followed her to build OCHH, we’ve come so far together. I really can’t bear for us to break off completely, and I don’t want my reputation to be ruined."

He choked back sobs, full of regret. He wanted Lindsay Joyce to plead his case for him.

Lindsay Joyce leaned against the headboard, watching the sniveling man before her with a mixture of helplessness and annoyance.

Claire stood at the doorway, surprised to see such a pathetic-looking Ian here. ’OCHH’s legal department should have already filed a lawsuit against him.’

Seeing Ian crying and begging for forgiveness like this, Miles’s knuckles tightened at his side. ’Disgusting.’

His face was expressionless as he began to feel a pang of regret.

’Why didn’t I just run him over yesterday?’