The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 202

"Claire."

A cold, deep voice drifted in from the bedroom doorway just as Miles pushed it open.

With Chloe still spouting unfiltered filth through the speaker, Claire frantically smashed the end call button.

"Miles! H-Hey, you're done."

Getting caught red-handed was mortifying. She had no idea how much of that conversation he had overheard, especially that last part. Chloe was going to be the absolute death of her.

"Did you finish the bowls? I can go out and eat the pot—"

Her brain officially short-circuited. What the hell was she saying?

Claire bolted for the kitchen like her life depended on it. Miles stared at her retreating figure, his expression instantly dropping into a terrifyingly blank, freezing mask.

Two dishes sat on the dining table—stir-fried pork with chili peppers and spicy sea bass. Both were her absolute favorites.

Claire looked up at him with wide, shining eyes. "How do you know exactly what I like?"

Miles grabbed a set of silverware and set it in front of her.

"Come back to the estate with me tomorrow. We won't tell Susan about the marriage just yet, but the Zimmerman family needs to be informed."

Claire paused, her fork hovering in the air. She blinked up at him.

"This soon?"

Miles pulled out a chair opposite her. He kept his eyes locked on his plate, his gaze unnervingly dark.

"Is it?"

"Or were you just planning on keeping it a secret so you could walk away whenever you pleased?"

He had heard her conversation with Chloe loud and clear.

Claire's mouth fell open in shock. "Walk away? I never said that."

"But I do have to swing by Luna Atelier tomorrow morning to finalize some design drafts first."

"Fine. I'll pick you up from there."

Claire waved him off. "No need. Once I'm done, I'll just drive myself over."

Miles fell silent for a beat before offering a subdued, "Alright."

Everyone in attendance knew exactly what this meant. Now that Miles was married and settled, Alistair was almost certainly going to bring him back into the corporate fold.

Victor Zimmerman sat calmly at one of the tables, unhurriedly exchanging pleasantries and raising a glass with the elders. Yet, from the corner of his eye, he monitored his brother, a vicious, venomous glint hiding in his stare.

Just five minutes ago, he had sent a text to his men.

[Keep Claire Jenner off this property at all costs. If you have to, get rid of her.]

Miles stood near the front portico, staring intently down at his screen.

He sent Claire a text: [Are you on your way?]

Then another.

[Are you almost here? Drive safely.]

And one more.

[If you haven't left yet, I'm coming to get you.]

He waited, but there was zero reply.