Ian watched Clara with a gaze rich in unspoken affection, his voice dropping to a seductive rasp, "I’m still chasing her."
That single statement repositioned Clara in the grand scheme of things. She wasn't just some caged pet, pampered and kept by Ian. She was the woman the crown prince of the Hayes dynasty had been tirelessly courting.
And who was Ian? The epitome of power in Northbridge, an untouchable deity, perched high above mere mortals. He was the unattainable rose every woman yearned to pluck. With just a word, he could command legions of admirers to live or die for him.
And now, in front of the media, he was openly admitting his pursuit of Clara.
Such explosive news sent shockwaves through the press corps, igniting a frenzy as reporters bombarded them with questions, desperate for a nugget of confirmation.
Ian’s gaze lingered on Clara, tender and entwining as vines. "As for how long the chase will last, that's up to Attorney Clara to decide when she'll officially have me. But no matter how long it takes, the position of Mrs. Hayes is hers and hers alone."
His words may not have explicitly mentioned 'love,' but they were drenched in deep-seated emotion. Such a declaration sent the crowd into a rapturous uproar.
Clara felt as though she was ensnared in a dream.
In this dream, she was in a predicament, and the boy she adored rescued her from the shadows just like in days past.
He said he never saw her as a sugar baby. He said the title of Mrs. Hayes was reserved for her.
Tears welled up unbidden in Clara’s eyes as she looked at Ian. The man was devilishly handsome, his features chiseled, his looks deceivingly aloof, but his eyes were like twin pools of allure, drawing her in. Those eyes were now gazing at her with a warmth that could melt glaciers.
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