The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 234

At Grandview Heights, the moment the door clicked shut, the tension in the living room plummeted to terrifying levels.

Miles tossed Claire's purse onto the sofa.

He yanked open the fridge and downed half a bottle of ice water just to marginally control his temper.

Claire sat on the couch, staying silent for a long time before she offered a dry, "Sorry to bother you with all that earlier."

Smash!

Miles slammed the glass bottle down on the counter, his voice dangerously low.

"Is that it?"

"Claire, don't you have anything you want to explain?"

Knowing she was in the wrong, Claire muttered, "I just went out with Chloe. We didn't do anything crazy."

"Didn't do anything crazy, just ended up at the police station, right?"

"Just had a male escort calling me an ugly, old, impotent loser, right?"

Miles crossed the room in long strides and planted one knee on the cushion beside her.

Claire tried to shrink back, but his strong arm caged her in, leaving no escape.

"Claire, whether I'm capable or not, don't you know best?"

He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him as he leaned in so close his mouth brushed hers.

"Is one doctor at home not enough for you? You had to run to a club to ogle some random guy playing dress-up in a lab coat?"

"If you like it that much, just say the word. I'll strip down and wear nothing but the coat for you."

Claire's heart skipped a beat, her mind instantly flooded with the image. She swallowed hard and turned her head away.

"It... it was just a coincidence."

"And what about you and Lauren? You were together before coming to the station, weren't you!"

Miles reigned in his patience. "She organized a dinner with a bunch of medical professionals. I had a few drinks and couldn't drive, so she offered me a ride to the station."

Claire pressed her lips together.

It sounded reasonable enough, but that was his unattainable ideal! How could he claim there was nothing between them?

"I don't want to fight with you. I can take care of myself. I won't bother you anymore."

Claire tried to shove him away, but he didn't budge.

Miles was already furious. He wasn't mad that she sought out escorts—he knew she didn't have the guts for that. He was furious that she and Chloe had gone to a shady club without telling anyone. What if something terrible had happened to them?

At the dinner, the moment he answered her call and heard she was at the police station, he admitted it—he had panicked. He had completely lost his cool.

And now, not only was she unrepentant, but she had the nerve to act so self-righteous?

Miles felt a vein pulsing at his temple.

Back when she wrote him love letters, she had been so sweet and endearing, calling him 'Miles' in that adorable voice. Now, all she did was drive him up the wall.

"Miles, let me go! I said—I don't need you to babysit me!"

Before Claire could finish her tirade, her entire world spun.

Miles clamped a hand around her wrist, hauling her up and flipping her face-down across his lap.

"What are you doing—"

Smack!

A sharp sound echoed in the room.

Miles delivered a firm spank. He didn't hold back his strength, and it stung sharply.

Claire froze completely, her mind blanking out as the stinging pain and overwhelming humiliation rushed all the way up to her ears.

She thrashed wildly, but with his heavy hand holding her waist down, she couldn't flip over.

"Miles Zimmerman! How dare you!"

Claire's voice trembled with absolute mortification and fury.

In her struggle, her dress rode up, making it even easier for him to discipline her.

His voice drifted down from above her, icy, yet laced with a faint huskiness.

"If you had an ounce of common sense, would you have been caught up in a vice raid and hauled into the station?"

A few moments later, Miles emerged from the study.

Claire peeked out from over her knees, watching him.

He grabbed his car keys, clearly intending to leave. But he paused at the entryway and turned back toward the bedroom.

He walked out with a thin throw blanket and dropped it coldly over her head, blocking her vision.

The door to apartment 501 clicked open, then slammed shut.

Miles was gone.

Claire sniffled. Marmalade hopped up onto the couch beside her, rolling around and chewing playfully on something in his mouth.

"Marmalade, don't eat garbage."

Claire scooped up the tiny kitten, pried his mouth open, and pulled the object out.

It was a piece of paper, bearing the ornate logo of the "International Design Competition."

Claire's fingers stilled.

She glanced at the half-open door of the study.

Did Marmalade drag this out of there?

This belonged to Miles. She shouldn't touch it.

But it was from the International Design Competition—the very stationery from the year her Nova Series won an award.

Claire bit her bottom lip, muttering to herself.

"I didn't mean to look. Marmalade practically forced it on me..."

She unfolded the paper.

The handwriting was bold and familiar—identical to the scrawl Miles used on patient charts.

[Congratulations on achieving your dream, my sun.]

It was signed with a single character: 'Lauren'.

Claire's hands shook violently, her mind completely blanking out.