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The evening breeze was gentle and serene, intertwining warm white light and shadow into an elegant scene.

Claire Prescott leaned peacefully against the veranda pillar. Perhaps due to the lingering scent of ointnt on her, not even mosquitoes dared to approach her.

But.

She had waited a long ti, but Zara Leighton was nowhere in sight, nor was there any ssage from her.

Just as she raised her phone to find Zara’s number, she faintly heard a soft conversation.

Initially, she paid no mind, but the more she listened, the more she felt sothing was off.

Simply because the voice resembled Zara’s.

She put away her phone and followed the sound.

At a corner, she saw two shadows overlapping, faint and long, indistinct.

Until she clearly saw the side profiles of the two people.

Claire Prescott was instantly stunned, her face darkened further, her eyes mingling with the gloom, as deep and unfathomable as the sky.

Gloomy, as if a storm was about to break.

Zara Leighton fearfully pushed away Milton Rivers, who was randomly nipping at her, and stood frozen in place, staring dazedly at the person who had appeared before her.

"Claire..."

Her voice was tight, an indescribable feeling lodged in her throat.

Yet Milton Rivers had no intention of releasing her, his broad hand tightly clasped around her waist, rendering her unable to escape his control.

"Aren’t you leaving?" Milton Rivers furrowed his brows, his deep voice laden with intense pressure and reprimand.

Claire Prescott clenched her fists tighter.

In a fit of anger, she strode over to them and forcibly pulled Zara away from Milton Rivers’s grasp.

Imdiately after, she raised her hand and slapped him.

The crisp sound pierced the air—

The atmosphere suddenly stiffened.

Zara’s heart trembled, she looked at Claire Prescott’s figure with apprehension.

She had never told her who Milton Rivers really was, not even daring to easily confront him, yet right under her own gaze, she had hit him?!

With that slap, the entire Sinclair Apothecary might have to pay dearly.

In the dim light, an undercurrent seed to surge, danger lurking.

Milton Rivers looked coldly at the person who hit him.

He never expected her to rush over so unreasonably to snatch soone, leaving him defenseless against her slap.

This was also the first ti he’d ever been slapped, and to think it was a woman’s doing.

Claire Prescott t his gaze fearlessly, "Mr. Rivers, today is your engagent party, your family, your fiancée are all inside, just a wall apart, how can you ss with my friend and still face everyone?"

Milton Rivers lowered his hand, his fair cultured face displaying three clear red fingerprints, yet still maintaining an air of superiority.

He coldly smirked, at the person in front of him who seed oblivious to the situation, suddenly recalling Keane Lowell’s words, "You should be worried about yourself."

It had truly co true.

His arm tightened, veins already bulging, but his right eyelid kept twitching.

In the end, he held back, "You should be grateful I don’t hit won, otherwise if no one was protecting you..."

Before he could finish, Claire Prescott fiercely kicked him.

He winced in pain, suppressing any reaction as he looked at her.

Then he heard her issue a warning.

"If you ever co near her again, don’t bla for being rude."

With that said, Claire Prescott grabbed Zara’s hand tightly, turned around angrily, and left.

In a hurry.

Zara was almost dragged along, stumbling over the uneven pavent, and in her thin-heeled high heels, she could hardly keep up.

Until they stopped at a deserted path, her hand was released.

Overhead, dense foliage blocked all moonlight, and the person in front of her was engulfed in pitch darkness, her expression unseen.

Zara’s heart was a mix of complex emotions, ashad and restless.

She took the initiative to break the ice, "Claire..., I..."

"Weren’t you going to the restroom? Why were you with Milton Rivers?" Claire Prescott questioned, her voice icy, penetrating to the core.

"I..."

"He’s engaged now, no matter how deep your past feelings, you can’t interfere with soone else’s marriage."

Zara, feeling wronged, replied, "I know..."

Yet she couldn’t explain the earlier scene.

Claire Prescott was deeply disappointed in her, "I thought you had really thought it through, attending his engagent party to give your blessings generously, but now, I think I’ve trusted you too much."

"I admit, I still have feelings for him, when I see him with soone else, it makes uncomfortable, like my whole body sprouts thorns, but I’m not so lowly as to be his mistress."

She said with earnest conviction, tears falling like a broken string of pearls.

"Then what was that scene about? Did he force you? Or did you want to resist but couldn’t? Whatever it was, it’s wrong! I don’t care what situation you’re in; don’t drag into your matters unless you’re sure of who Milton Rivers is and understand your feelings for him. I’m not your tool."

With that.

Claire Prescott turned away in anger.

Zara beca anxious, her heart both angry and aggrieved, calling out to her retreating figure, "I never saw you as a tool."

"Claire, don’t misunderstand ."

Claire Prescott didn’t look back.

She walked faster and faster, as if by doing so, those distressing matters would not catch up to her.

But.

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the intersection ahead.

Tall and elegant, standing straight with nothing around him, just a streetlight shining high above, casting faint light down, his face seemingly detached from the world.

Upon seeing him, her steps gradually slowed, and the hostility on her faded slightly.

Keane Lowell looked straight at her, and when he was close enough, he asked, "Ho? I’ll take you."

His voice was low, with a comforting tone.

Claire Prescott avoided his gaze, saying nothing, walking indifferently past him.

She then casually hailed a taxi by the roadside, got in, and left.

The moon slipped into the clouds, then slowly reappeared, casting its cool light.

...

Inside the banquet hall.

Shelby Thorne found Serena Thorne in a resting room, disgruntled, "Milton Rivers has just disappeared, I don’t think he’s sincere about this marriage, sis, are you really going to marry him?"

Serena Thorne’s mind suddenly flashed back to the two won she saw tonight, "If I don’t marry him, will you?"

"I..." Shelby was montarily speechless.

"An alliance benefits both our families, and Grandpa said that as long as the marriage lasts three years, he’ll transfer ten percent of the shares to , which benefits too. Once the three years are up, I’ll divorce him."

"But if you divorce him, do you have a future?"

Serena replied indifferently, "That’s sothing for the future."

Shelby dismissed it, "If it were , I’d marry soone I love."

Serena smiled, "So, did you et the person you wanted to see?"

Shelby looked defeated, "No."

"The Lowell Family isn’t soone we can easily tether to, you need to first temper your fiery temperant."

...

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