NovelGoldChapter 219 The scene reflected in the floor-to-ceiling window of the second-floor bedroom made Victor's eyes widen in shock. His face was a canvas of disbelief.
The entwined silhouettes upstairs hit him like a sledgehammer, shattering his sense of understanding.
He quickly regained his composure, furrowing his brow into a deep line as he gently tugged on Ethan's sleeve. "Calm down," he urged. "Things might not be as they seem. There could be a misunderstanding." But Ethan paid no heed. His eyes, bloodshot and blazing like two fiery coals, remained fixed on the figures upstairs. His chest heaved with fury as he shouted, "A misunderstanding? Look closely. They're practically glued together, and it's obvious what they're up to. What misunderstanding could there be?" He then bellowed up at Claire on the second floor, "Claire, are you that desperate? Can't live without a man?" His voice, sharp with anger, echoed through the silent night.
His eyes were practically shooting sparks.
Claire, frail and still recovering from losing a kidney, was far too weak for such risky behavior.
The thought of it fueled Ethan's anger, believing Claire was deliberately self-destructive just to torment everyone with worry.
Watching the silhouettes through the window, merging as one, the veins on his forehead stood out in stark relief.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Claire, I'm warning you! If you keep messing around with Sean Foster, and you end up dead, don't expect us-the Linwood family to clean up the mess. We won't bear that shame!" Inside the second-floor bedroom, the soft glow of a warm lamp cast a cozy ambiance over the room.
Sean's hand rested firmly on Claire's lower back, his touch gentle yet firm.
Claire pressed against Sean's chest, no space between them.
Through her sheer nightgown, she could feel the heat radiating from him, quickening her heartbeat.
The scent of cedarwood, mingled with a hint of tobacco, enveloped her senses, making her head spin and her cheeks flush with a rosy hue.
"Th-thank you," Claire's voice was barely above a whisper, tinged with shyness and confusion.
She instinctively tried to push Sean away, but her hands seemed powerless, unable to move him an inch. Sean narrowed his eyes, gazing at Claire with an intensity that seemed to see right through her.
Her eyelashes fluttered, her warm breath gently caressing Sean's throat.
She seemed oblivious to Ethan's booming insults from below, as though she couldn't hear them at all.
Claire slowly lifted her head, meeting Sean's gaze, his eyes deep as the ocean.
In that instant, she felt herself being drawn into a bottomless vortex, her heart racing, her face flushing like a ripe tomato.
Suppressing her inner turmoil, she focused on Sean's perfectly sculpted lips. "Mr. Foster, c-could you let go ofnow?" Sean felt her gaze on his lips, his expression darkening.
Not only did he not release her, but he also pulled her tighter into his embrace.
The petite Claire was enveloped by Sean, her face nearly buried in his chest, leaving only her wide, astonished eyes visible.
Sean's chin rested on her shoulder, his chiseled features close to her ear as he whispered, "Claire, didn't you hear Ethan's voice?" His voice was low, magnetic, probing deeply.
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After a long pause, Claire remained unresponsive, the room silent except for their heartbeats. In that moment, Sean realized with certainty-Claire couldn't hear.
She could only communicate with him by reading lips.
A mix of shock and anger flashed in his eyes.
He had reviewed Claire's file thoroughly and was sure her hearing and was sure was fine before she went to prison.
Remembering the rumors of her being slapped frequently in prison, Sean's breathing quickened.
His embrace tightened, as if he could m shield her from all her past hurts, herm all here driven by a fierce need to protect her.
Feeling Sean's firm hold, Claire couldn't help but let her thoughts wander.
Mr. Foster's actions today were so out of character-could he have feelings for her? The thought brought a sweet thrill to her heart.
But reality quickly doused that flicker of hope with cold pragmatism.
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