The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 174

Yvonne hid behind a pillar, raised her phone, and aimed the camera straight at the two overlapping silhouettes ahead.

Miles gazed down at Claire in his arms, his eyes filled with immense tenderness. His hand rested firmly around her slender waist in a gesture that was intimately possessive.

Yvonne rapidly tapped the shutter, snapping five or six pictures in quick succession.

Every single photo was crystal clear—Miles's face, Claire's face, and the undeniable romantic tension between them.

A cold, malicious sneer slowly curved her lips.

So the person who had bid millions for Claire at the auction was none other than her aloof, untouchable uncle.

No wonder Claire was acting so boldly. No wonder a brand-new studio had managed to sail through Empire City's business world without hitting a single snag.

Her backer was Miles all along.

Malice surged in Yvonne's eyes as she saved the photos and pocketed her phone.

Just wait, Claire. Once I expose your true colors, your good days are over.

Back in the banquet hall, Martha's birthday party was still in full swing.

Just as Claire walked back inside, a crowd gathered not far away, and panicked voices erupted.

"Quinn? Quinn, what's wrong?"

"Somebody get help! Someone passed out!"

"It's Ms. Lennox! Call someone!"

Quinn?

Claire's chest tightened. Even though they had become strangers, they had still known each other since their youth.

She sprinted over. Quinn was collapsed on the floor, her face deathly pale and completely drained of color. Julian was hovering over her, looking entirely at a loss.

Claire immediately pulled out her phone and called Miles.

Two minutes later, Miles's calm, authoritative voice cut through the room.

"Step aside."

The chaotic noise instantly died down as the crowd parted.

Julian looked up at him, utterly stunned. What was Miles doing at the resort?

Miles ignored his shock. He stepped forward, crouched down, lifted Quinn's eyelids to check her pupil dilation, and pressed two fingers to her pulse.

He looked up at Quinn's assistant. "Has she experienced any vision problems recently?"

The assistant froze for a second before recalling, "Quinn did mention her vision was blurry lately, but we thought it was just from pulling too many all-nighters..."

Miles's brows knitted tightly. He took out his phone and dialed the resort's general manager.

"Prep a medical transport vehicle immediately. Make it fast. We are heading to Central General Hospital."

Julian tried to intervene. "Dr. Zimmerman, is it really that serious? Could it just be low blood sugar? We can have the hotel physician..."

"It's confirmed. An intracranial tumor pressing on the optic nerve."

"We won't know if it's benign or malignant until the biopsy results come back."

Claire's throat tightened. "Is it extremely dangerous?"

Miles looked at her tense profile, his heart sinking. He patted her shoulder, but his professional ethics prevented him from offering false comfort.

"I need to drop off the samples. She's awake now. You can go in and see her."

Claire nodded and pushed the door open to the ward.

Quinn was lying in the hospital bed, an IV drip hooked to her arm. Her face was pale, but her expression was strikingly calm.

She looked at Claire and offered a weak smile.

"Crying?"

She paused, dragging out her words. "Claire, didn't you hate me?"

Seeing Quinn act just as irritatingly smug as she had back in the day made the lump in Claire's throat swell even more.

"I'm not crying. It's not even a big deal..."

Quinn let out a faint smile, looking entirely at peace.

"I know my own body. There's a mass in my brain, isn't there?"