Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 25: Ripe for the Picking

Claire Shaw’s mind panicked for a moment before calming down. Considering their identity differences, Ethan Blackwood would at most just teach her a lesson; he surely wouldn’t go too far.

Thinking of this, she looked at him with a provocative smile.

She directly told him across the table, it’s over, don’t waste your effort.

Ethan Blackwood met her smile, his expression still calm and composed. Unlike those young hotheads, he seemed like someone who had weathered many storms, carrying a stability borne from seeing much of the world.

In his eyes, Claire Shaw’s antics were like a kindergartener throwing a tantrum, incapable of causing any ripples.

His thin lips curled up, "Ms. Shaw has quite unique tastes."

Claire intentionally provoked, "Mr. Blackwood, you must be getting on in age, right? You don’t understand what we young people really need now. These days, what’s popular are young pups, fresh meat. As for uncle-type old men, they’re like outdated flowers."

She knew her words were blunt, she just wanted Ethan Blackwood to back off.

Little did she know, her foot was still being held by him.

Ethan’s expression didn’t change, and beneath the table, his fingers leisurely brushed over her tense instep.

Claire’s back turned cold, just having settled down, it started again!

Ethan’s voice was deep, "So in Ms. Shaw’s eyes, someone my age is already an old man."

Mia Hughes almost sprayed her lemon water out, "Not old, not at all, President Blackwood, you’re so graceful and handsome, like a walking package deal on a bargain market, as soon as it goes on sale, it gets sold out immediately."

Sean Jacobs was speechless. One must understand that this gentleman isn’t as easygoing as he seems. In the circle, he’s always being praised and pampered, he might not even come out once.

Today, these two little girls are unbelievable, one called him old, the other compared him to a bargain bin item.

He said righteously, "Sweetie, you described it well, don’t describe it again next time."

Then he turned to Claire Shaw and said, "Ms. Shaw, Ethan is just over thirty, he’s not old, his stamina and all is not worse than young people."

Mia glared at him, you’re still mocking his age! What does it have to do with stamina? Has he tried it?

Naturally, Ethan wouldn’t quibble with these kids, his hand subtly squeezed her calf.

Despite the tablecloth’s cover and the sparse crowd in the upscale restaurant, waiters occasionally passed by, making Claire’s heart race.

Previously, she never knew this man’s character could be so vile!

The rough pad of his finger formed a sharp contrast with Claire’s smooth skin.

Claire was somewhat annoyed by his petty behavior, widening her eyes.

Clearly, she was resigning herself to fate—fine, touch it! Let’s see what you can do!

Her foot was suddenly freed as Ethan had slipped off her high heel.

Claire was instantly flustered—how could this man behave like this?

He knew Claire’s weakness too well—she was ticklish.

Just scratching the sole of her foot would make Claire feel as if her whole body was being bitten by ants.

"Claire, what’s wrong?" Mia saw her body trembling slightly, showing a look of restraint.

"No, nothing, I just feel a bit cold." Claire made an excuse.

"The AC is indeed too strong, I didn’t bring a sweater either."

"Wear mine."

Finally, Ethan let her go, and Claire swiftly withdrew her leg.

She rubbed the sole of her right foot against her left leg, trying to relieve the bone-piercing itch.

At the same time, Ethan had gotten up and draped his jacket over her shoulders.

Claire’s nose was immediately enveloped in the scent of cedar, just like being in his arms.

Beside them, Sean Jacobs’ eyes almost fell into his plate.

Was he dreaming?

The usually aloof old bachelor, who would not hesitate to kill even a female mosquito, was actually voluntarily giving a woman his coat!

Although Mia found it a bit strange, she figured it might be the gentlemanly demeanor of a wealthy man, so she understood and didn’t think much of it.

Claire could only awkwardly thank him, "Thank you."

Little did she know, her blushing face at the moment looked like a juicy peach in Ethan’s eyes.

The peach was ripe, ready to be picked.

The waiter served ice cream, breaking the momentary awkwardness.

Sean Jacobs also introduced, "Sweetie, I know you like sweets, so I ordered all the special desserts."

Sean Jacobs really seemed thoughtful; he’s also handsome. No wonder Mia got swept off her feet.

Sean Jacobs ordered two of each dessert, and Claire looked at the various flavors of sweets.

Actually, she loved sweets as a child, but Miranda Shaw, a selfish person, spent the money she got from Damian Sutton on bags and beauty treatments, leaving Claire without enough food, let alone sweets.

After several years of tug-of-war with Damian, Miranda changed after another suicide attempt.

She stopped fixating on Damian and started looking for other prey.

She was beautiful, graceful, and charming, making it easy for men to fall for her.

It seemed she wanted to climb the social ladder through these men, and prove to Damian that she too could find a man who would marry her.

Yet, although men were generous in material terms, none were willing to divorce their wives for her.

Miranda then set her sights on Claire, who was young and pure, to fulfill the dreams she hadn’t accomplished and marry into a wealthy family.

She came up with a plan to use the money she got from the men to groom Claire.

According to Miranda, sugar only burdens the body, leading to premature aging and a deformed figure, with no benefits at all.

On Claire’s birthday, the small cake she had just ordered for herself and placed candles on, hadn’t even made a wish before Miranda swept it to the ground.

Her high heel crushed the delicious cream as she looked down at Claire, "There are no gods in this world, no one can grant your wishes. Remember, fate is in your own hands. For families like ours, there’s only one shortcut: find a wealthy man to marry. Stop eating these sugary things."

Once, she secretly bought an ice cream cone after school, just had a bite, and got a hard slap on the face.

In the blazing summer, she looked up at Miranda’s mouth moving up and down, scolding her.

She couldn’t hear the cicadas’ chirping, her ears were ringing, and nose bleeding.

That single bite of ice cream resulted in her left ear being perforated.

Claire was a product of authoritarian control and already knew she was very unhealthy.

She couldn’t even laugh aloud like her peers because of a word or a story.

Because her life was the biggest joke.

"Claire, this strawberry milk ice cream is so smooth, it’s so good I could cry! Try it!"

Mia pushed the ice cream in front of her.

Now that she had grown up, Miranda couldn’t control her all the time.

Claire looked at the bright red strawberry, just like the blood from her nose that day.

Vivid red, drop by drop onto the scorching ground.

Time had passed, but she could still remember that one icy bite soothing her heart.

Claire pushed the ice cream away, "No, thank you. I don’t like sweets."

She was clearly smiling when she said this, but Ethan saw the fleeting sadness in her eyes.

At that moment, Claire looked especially like a fragile porcelain doll.

He didn’t speak much with Claire, while Mia and Sean Jacobs were chatting happily.

Claire was a quiet listener, occasionally offering a comment or two.

Until it was over, Mia was content, rubbing her full belly, "I’m so full, Claire, won’t you eat a bit more?"

Claire had just had a feast last night and needed to eat low-fat meals to detox these days.

"I’m full, we’re about to leave..."

Before she could finish the sentence, she suddenly realized that her high heels were still by Ethan’s feet.

She had been dining on tiptoes the whole time.

Now that it was time to leave, she just focused on finding her shoes.

She stretched her leg toward the man’s side.

Little did she know, her foot did not find the shoe but rather brushed against his calf.

Her force wasn’t light, it was like kicking the man.

Her little foot was like a lamb straying into a predator’s territory, the soft sole colliding with the man’s solid calf.

It was so hard, and so hot...