“You don’t understand—my uncle’s methods are ruthless. No one in New York high society dares cross him. Don’t bring disaster on yourself.”
I didn’t know who he thought he was pretending for, but his false concern only made me sick.
“Let go. Stop being an eyesore.”
When he realized I had no intention of yielding, his patience snapped. He reached to drag me out of the car.
“Claire, I told you—this is the Hughes estate. Here, you obey me.”
I slipped out of his grasp with a glare.
“Don’t touch me.”
Perhaps it was the hardness of my tone—or the undisguised disgust in my eyes—that finally made him falter.
Alexander Hughes froze mid-motion, as though some thought had struck him.
“Claire, get out of the car first.”
And why should I ever listen to him?
I hadn’t three years ago, and I certainly wouldn’t now.
The mockery in my eyes was barely concealed.
Tired of wasting breath on him, I kicked Alexander hard, shoving him out of the car, and slammed the door shut.
As the engine roared to life, he tried to chase after me again.
But Isabella Reed clutched at him from behind.
“Alexander, my stomach hurts—my ankle too!”
Only then did his gaze shift back to her.
After settling Isabella in the hospital, Alexander finally remembered me.
He immediately ordered his men to investigate and obtain my address, then rushed straight over.
I had just hung up the phone when the doorbell rang.
Opening the door, I found Alexander standing there.
The moment his eyes fell on me in a loose robe, a flicker of possessive hunger lit his expression.
I gave him a cool glance.
“What, didn’t get enough of a beating today? Want me to kick you again?”
My words made him laugh, though his amusement was laced with arrogance.
“You went through all that trouble today just to draw me here, didn’t you?”
So that was it. He truly believed I was playing some elaborate game of hard to get.
When I didn’t respond, he pressed on.
“To reel me in, you even risked bribing my uncle’s men. Claire, you’ve learned a few tricks.”
His hand reached toward my face.
“I came to you as you wished—why pretend otherwise?”
But before his fingers could touch me, his phone rang.
Glancing at the screen, he stepped aside to answer.
On the other end, a woman’s voice whined and cooed. Alexander’s tone softened at once.
“Be good, don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”
After hanging up, he looked back at me.
“I have to go. You—”
I cut him off without ceremony.