The One He Dismissed Became The One He Died For novel Chapter 60

Claire stood under the oak tree. In the sunlight, the dress rippled like shimmering water.

"Are you sure about this?"

Claire nodded. "This is the fastest way to show the world the Iridescent Prism Silk."

She took a deep breath, her eyes filled with reckless determination. "Let's go."

A trending, upbeat track began playing from the phone.

Claire felt awkward at first, but catching a glimpse of the silk practically breathing in the sunlight gave her the confidence she needed.

She matched the choreography flawlessly, losing herself in the rhythm.

Miles held the camera, his eyes locked onto her every move. A faint smile played on his lips.

The video was barely a minute long. Out of breath, Claire snatched the phone back to watch the playback.

"Perfect. This is it."

"Dr. Zimmerman, you're a genius. This is Luna Atelier's very first video."

She logged into the app, added some hashtags, and hit post.

"Alright, it's out of my hands now." She looked up at him and laughed.

Miles glanced at the screen. "Yeah. It's going to be a hit."

After spending two more days in Westhaven, Claire compiled a list of the workforce. Most were elderly, the youngest being fifty.

At their age, intense assembly-line labor was out of the question, and learning modern machinery would be a nightmare.

But miraculously, every single one of them knew how to weave the Iridescent Prism Silk.

For high-end luxury fashion, they didn't need mass production. The profit margins were massive, and it would instantly put Westhaven Mill on the map. It was the perfect pivot.

Claire hitched a ride back with Miles and his medical team.

Right before they left, the villagers pulled her aside.

"Here, dear," an old woman handed her a fabric bundle. "Silas wanted you to have this. Make yourself a beautiful dress. Our old styles are too outdated for you."

"Which one of you boys is going to bag her?"

Jefferson Sterling slouched against the leather couch, lazily swirling a glass of whiskey, completely disinterested.

He was thinking about Claire.

She had actually gone to Westhaven and hadn't contacted him in days.

Hmph. Still acting stubborn, waiting for him to crawl back and apologize?

Maybe he should toss her a bone and humor her?

His eyes casually flicked over to the phone screen.

He froze.

On the screen, Claire was dancing rhythmically, her curves mesmerizing. Her smile was blinding, her eyes sparkling with life. She looked absolutely nothing like the lifeless, obedient girl she was when she was with him.

Listening to the other men fantasize about her, Jefferson violently smashed his whiskey glass against the table...