Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go Chapter 164: These Father and Son Are Toxic

Unexpectedly, the evening they went to the city hospital to see Uncle Yates.

Was the last ti Claire Prescott saw Iris Yates, who silently went abroad for further studies on the third day and only sent her a ssage after reaching the airport.

It was particularly sudden.

At that ti, Claire was still at work and couldn’t find ti to see her.

The sumr break abroad wasn’t that long, yet she was about to leave without saying a word to her.

Helplessly.

Claire scolded her before letting her go.

Glancing at the calendar, she realized that sumr was coming to an end, and there was not much ti left until the Empyrean High School’s anniversary celebration.

She gathered her thoughts and returned to work mode.

By the ti work ended that day.

Finn Prescott ca looking for her to personally drive her back to The Empyrean Court, saying their father was at ho waiting for her for dinner.

Her face darkened, and she inford her grandparents before leaving with him.

Not a word was exchanged on the way.

Finn sat in the back seat with his eyes closed, resting; he didn’t look well, and Claire glanced at him silently before shifting her gaze away.

By the ti they arrived at The Empyrean Court, night had fallen.

Three separate European-style villas stood in a row, always with security at the entrance. From a distance, only the middle villa was lit, every floor had its lights on.

This ti, she didn’t know why her father suddenly called her over again.

It seed.

There were no other matters besides her marriage.

Almost every eting with him ended on a sour note, so every ti she saw him, she had to ntally prepare in advance.

"Going back to your own ho, not entering a lion’s den, what’s with the sour face?" Finn couldn’t help but quip.

Claire glanced at him without speaking.

She secretly took a deep breath, then walked along the path towards the half-open large door.

The entire living room was brightly lit as if it were dayti; every piece of furniture looked brand new, yet it felt empty, devoid of the feeling of ho. Only the aroma of food in the air added so holiness to the place.

Then, she saw her father coming out of the kitchen with a plate of food.

Wearing a shirt and trousers, with a black apron tied around him, no matter how you looked, it was awkward and unlike him.

"You’re back." Jericho Prescott deliberately softened his voice to sound gentle and approachable.

Claire regained her senses and called, "Dad."

"Go wash your hands; it’s ti for dinner."

It was such a normal sentence, yet coming from him, it felt exceptionally out of place.

However.

When Finn went to the kitchen to help and saw the ss, he couldn’t help but frown, although each dish was plated delicately and looked appetizing.

Jericho said, "Let’s eat first; we can let Housekeeper King clean up later."

"Alright." Finn carried the dishes out.

After washing her hands, Claire watched the two n busying themselves, feeling uncomfortable.

All five dishes were her favorites, plated attractively and appetizing.

Upon sitting down, Jericho introduced, "These are a few dishes I learned from a five-star chef; see if they suit your taste."

Claire moved her chopsticks, and after tasting the first piece of at, she calmly comnted, "It’s pretty good."

"If you want to eat sothing in the future, just tell , and I’ll make it for you."

"Okay."

The atmosphere was unexpectedly peaceful, easing Claire’s tense heart.

Though the taste was quite ordinary, at least it didn’t flop.

Yet it reminded her of what she told Assistant Lowe last ti.

Perhaps Uncle Lowe conveyed her words to her father, and he took them to heart, making an effort to get closer to her.

But.

Instead of the ordinary warmth she imagined, it felt awkward and unfamiliar.

"I’ve never seen where you work; I heard from Assistant Lowe that you’re quite busy."

Claire replied, "Sotis I am. If you want to visit, you are welco anyti."

Jericho smiled and agreed, "Alright."

The rest of the ti, they ate quietly.

It was too quiet.

Without reason, she had two bowls of rice.

After dinner, her father went back into the kitchen.

Before long, he brought out a bowl of yogurt and placed it in front of her.

Claire paused, "How did you know I like this?"

Seeing the light in her eyes, her deanor and voice were more obedient than ever before.

To capture a daughter’s heart, one must first capture her stomach.

This saying felt particularly true at that mont.

Following Assistant Lowe’s advice, he gave her ti to adapt and refrained from ntioning her and Keane Lowell’s matters, aiming to let her feel the family’s genuine care, so she wouldn’t be easily swayed by others.

"Your grandma told ."

Claire couldn’t handle such a huge, amiable change from him; it was too ticulous, making her suspect her father had an ulterior motive, yet she couldn’t pinpoint any flaw.

"You eat first; I’ll go upstairs to take a shower." He had a cleanliness obsession and couldn’t stand the sll of cooking on him, so he said no more and headed upstairs.

Claire took her ti, scooping a spoonful to taste.

There was only a portion for her; Finn had none.

He simply sat across from her watching her eat.

However, despite having no portion for himself, he didn’t find it inappropriate because he didn’t need it.

Tonight, enjoying their father’s cooking was all thanks to his sister.

Only.

He didn’t expect such a simple al to disarm all her defenses, making her so easy to please.

He couldn’t help but wonder.

Would preparing a good al for her resolve her inner conflict?

"Is it good?" he asked.

Claire paused her chewing, realizing his presence.

She swallowed the food and honestly said, "It’s better than the dinner just now."

Making this yogurt bowl was simply mixing yogurt with so nuts and fruits, not requiring much skill at all.

Finn looked at her with a complex expression, his Adam’s apple moved, "Would you like to try my cooking?"

Upon hearing.

Claire felt a tingling sensation on her scalp.

Unable to withstand his gaze, she silently took the yogurt bowl and went to the courtyard alone to eat.

...These father and son have issues.

She couldn’t help but take out her phone and called Keane Lowell.

At that ti, Keane was attending a cocktail party but found a quieter place to take Claire’s call.

The corridor wall lights lined up, casting a brilliant glow along the wall. His figure elongated, and his noble deanor was clearly outlined.

Once the call connected, the first thing he said was, "Sweetheart."

The voice was deep and lingering.

Suddenly, Claire got goosebumps.

She calmly asked, "Are you busy?"

"Attending a cocktail party."

"Then find a quiet place, and let’s chat."