The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 242

Claire signaled for Betty to sit back down, giving her shoulder a reassuring pat.

"You're right. I haven't shown enough sincerity. Allow me to offer another toast."

Though she wasn't completely drunk, her stomach was churning painfully. Seeing the men engrossed in their loud conversation, she stood up. "Excuse me, I'll be right back."

Low snickers drifted over from behind her.

"A divorced woman just isn't worth anything."

"A pretty face means nothing. The Zimmerman family has a massive empire—they'd never settle for damaged goods like her."

...

Claire's footsteps faltered for a second, but she choked down her emotions and pushed open the suite doors.

Just as she stepped out into the hallway, a server rushed by with a dining cart. He was moving too fast and couldn't hit the brakes in time.

Crash!

The heavy cart slammed right into Claire's calf, the hard wheel rolling brutally over the top of her foot. She stumbled violently and nearly fell to the ground.

The server, a young girl, was terrified, bowing repeatedly and apologizing profusely.

"I'm so, so sorry! I didn't see you!"

"I was rushing to serve a table. I... your foot... I'll pay for your medical bills..."

Seeing it was just a young girl who had likely just started working, Claire didn't make things difficult for her.

"It's fine. Go back to work."

Her foot throbbed painfully as she limped over to a secluded spot by the second-floor railing.

Her eyes burned, and a lump rose in her throat, but she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall.

There was nothing to cry about. It was just a string of bad luck.

She composed herself, preparing to head back to the private suite.

When she turned around, she crashed straight into a solid wall of muscle.

Miles stood directly in front of her, blocking her path.

His gaze was heavy and dark, dropping immediately to her foot. "Are you hurt?"

Claire turned her head away, completely ignoring him as she tried to limp past the pain.

Miles grabbed her arm and yanked her right back, her head colliding against his firm chest.

Claire frantically checked her surroundings. Thankfully, the hallway was deserted.

He carried her into an empty lounge, set her down on a sofa, and left briefly to fetch an ice pack and a first-aid kit.

Miles dropped to one knee. He grabbed her foot, slipped off her high heel, and propped her leg over his own thigh.

He concentrated fully as he massaged a medicinal ointment into her skin, and the throbbing pain instantly subsided.

Instead of feeling touched, Claire was bubbling over with rage.

Hadn't he just gone behind her back to steal her resources for Lauren? Why was he playing the devoted husband now?

Ha. He was just afraid of looking bad, putting on this gentle facade, wasn't he?

Fine. If he wanted to play the perfect husband, he could go right ahead!

A vicious surge of vindictiveness flared in her chest. Claire suddenly lifted her other, uninjured leg.

With her bare foot, she planted her toes squarely onto his broad shoulder.

She hooked her toes provocatively against the edge of his collar, pressing down hard, her words dripping with absolute malice.

"Such a good husband. You just love serving me, don't you?"