Chapter 210 Dream On
Richard watched the car speed away, shaking his head helplessly.
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“Really? And you say you don’t care about her?” he muttered to himself.
Half an hour later, the screech of tires broke the quiet as Frederick slammed the brakes in front of a music restaurant
called Serene River.
Inside, the place was alive–pulsating rock music blared so loudly it could be felt in your chest.
Frederick frowned as he stormed in.
His eyes scanned the dimly lit room, but the swirling shadows and shifting bodies made it impossible to spot Claire.
At that moment, Claire was nestled in the crowd, sipping a cocktail with a radiant smile.
She was genuinely happy tonight.
Since her release from prison, she hadn’t felt this free–this
alive.
Drink after drink had followed, and now she swayed unsteadily, clearly drunk.
“Antony,” she said, setting her glass down and fixing her gaze on
Chapter 210 Dream On
Antony shook his head firmly.
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“No way, Claire. Good deeds have good returns. Bad deeds come back to bite you. You’re a kind person–there’s no way you’d ever have a bad life.”
“Really?” Claire let out a soft laugh, the bitterness in it subtle but unmistakable. “Maybe you’re right. But some things are inevitable. The seeds you plant determine the fruit you reap. Just like Frederick…”
Her voice trailed off, and her eyes dimmed as memories came flooding back–painful, vivid, and unrelenting.
Even her chest ached with the weight of it.
She grabbed the drink in front of her and downed it in one go.
“Antony,” she said, pointing a slightly shaky finger at him, “why were you such a coward back then? If you’d confessed your feelings, then maybe…” But before she could finish, Frederick appeared in front of her, his expression stormy.
“Frederick?” Claire looked up in surprise, her glass pausing mid–air.
“Let’s go. Home. Now.”
Frederick grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.
Every word Claire had just said to Antony echoed in his mind, crystal clear.
If Antony had confessed back then?
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Chapter 210 Dream On
Oh, excellent. Just perfect.
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This woman—she was something else. Frederick clenched his jaw. Very well, Claire. Very well.
“Frederick, what gives you the right to take Claire away?”
Antony snapped, grabbing Claire’s other arm to stop Frederick’s rough actions.
“The right?” Frederick sneered, his voice icy. “Do I need to explain myself to you?”
“Claire,” Antony said urgently, stepping closer to her, “if you don’t want to go with him, I won’t let him take you.”
But Claire, drunk and glassy–eyed, simply stared at Frederick, laughing softly to herself as if Antony’s words didn’t even register.
“See that, Antony?” Frederick’s tone was dark, and his arrogance cut through the air like a blade.
Without hesitation, he scooped Claire up in his arms and strode
out of the restaurant.
“Frederick? Is it really you?”
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