The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 4

“Are you absolutely sure?” Chloe Chambers asked in disbelief. After all, everyone knew Claire had loved Jefferson unconditionally for six years.

Claire nodded slowly.-

“If you ask me, you should just pull your atelier out of Sterling Holdings entirely. If you're going to cut ties, make it a clean break.”

“Back in college, you got your designs featured at Paris Fashion Week. Why subjugate yourself under Jefferson's name?”

“Breaking Luna Atelier's contract would trigger a five million dollar penalty.”

Chloe was speechless.

Claire knew Jefferson too well. He would never let her walk away easily.

Thinking of Miles, she murmured, “But it shouldn't take too much longer.”

The luxury resale process went incredibly smoothly.

Two days later, a substantial string of digits appeared in Claire's bank account.

She owed Miles thirty thousand dollars, but she only transferred half of it into the bank card he gave her.

She had other plans for the rest of the money.

The next morning, Claire woke up early to do her makeup, carefully concealing the dark circles under her eyes with foundation and sweeping blush across her cheeks for a natural, healthy glow.

She picked out a beige knit dress—form-fitting but not overly tight, revealing just the right amount of her delicate collarbone.

Inside her insulated food container was a comforting chicken soup she had spent two hours simmering.

At the hospital, the door to the office was slightly ajar, and Claire pushed it open gently.

The man was facing away from the door, taking off his jacket.

His shoulders were broad, and sunlight filtered through his white dress shirt, faintly outlining the firm, lean muscles of his waist.

Her heart skipped a beat, and a single phrase suddenly popped into her mind: absolute physical perfection.

Miles turned around, his fingers pausing on the buttons of his doctor's coat.

“Dr. Zimmerman, I came to thank you. My mother is doing so much better. I made this soup for you myself.”

She set the container down and rubbed the band-aid on her finger, adopting a cautious, eager-to-please tone.

“I'm not great at cooking and can be a bit clumsy, but I hope you won't mind it.”

Miles glanced briefly at the container before his eyes slowly traveled upward, finally settling on her exhausted yet radiant face.

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