Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 84: Who Is It?

After reading the message, Claire Shaw almost threw her phone.

This tone was completely different from Ethan Blackwood’s usual flirting, like a venomous snake hiding in a dark corner, staring at her intently.

As soon as she showed a weakness, it would pounce and swallow Claire whole.

Back in her student days, Claire encountered such situations; men with unrequited pursuits maliciously exposed her number.

As a result, Claire kept receiving some unsightly messages or calls, and even when she reported to the police, it was useless.

The other party either used an overseas number or left her number on small ads.

It was like swallowing a fly—disgusting and helpless.

Later, she changed her number, reduced her contacts, and after getting together with Owen Crawford, those distressing things gradually stopped.

Her first thought was Wyatt Lawrence, that man who knew her so well.

Then she thought it unlikely—he’d just confessed to her; sending such a message was akin to announcing to everyone that he was a pervert?

If not Wyatt Lawrence, was it Owen Crawford doing this to get back at her?

Claire Shaw gripped her phone tightly, her mind in turmoil.

Who is making this kind of joke?

She called the number back, but as expected, it was unreachable.

Claire tightly closed her doors and windows, staying at home all day.

The tense emotions gradually eased over time, until late in the day, when she was fully immersed in her manuscript; a sudden phone vibration startled her, dragging a long mark across the paper.

Her eyes fell on the phone—it was a rare video from Ethan Blackwood.

After hesitating for a moment, she answered.

As soon as it connected, what appeared was not Ethan in person, but an azure coastline tinted with golden hues by the setting sun.

The sea breeze swayed, sparkles danced on the horizon, and a few seagulls flew by.

One could also hear the sound of waves lapping against the boat and birds chirping.

Such a healing scene made her temporarily forget to speak.

Until the man’s rich voice sounded in her ear, "Beautiful, isn’t it?"

"Where is this?"

The man chuckled softly, "Take a guess."

Claire Shaw was not stupid; knowing he didn’t want to answer, she stopped asking, "Are you on a business trip again?"

"Yes, I’ll bring you a gift when I return."

Claire thought of Wyatt’s words earlier and subtly distanced herself, "No need, we’re not at that stage."

Ethan’s smile froze; he knew Claire too well. Clearly, she was nestled in his arms last night, trying not to disturb his wounds yet obediently exposing her neck to him, letting him have his way. Now, she was drawing a line between them.

Could it be that leaving without a word made the girl angry?

"Sorry, things happened suddenly this morning. Seeing you sleep so soundly, I didn’t..."

Claire Shaw cut him off directly, "Mr. Blackwood, there’s no need to explain. You’re free to go wherever you want."

In the screen, Ethan saw Claire’s delicate, cold face, especially those fox-like eyes; without a smile, they appeared so coldly alluring.

Before he could speak, Claire hung up the video call, citing busyness as the reason.

Out at sea, the man held a cigarette in his mouth, a glimmer of darkness passing through his deep eyes.

The girl was angry.

Staring at her disconnected phone, Claire watched as its light gradually dimmed.

She silently told herself this was the true position they were meant to have.

Late at night, having washed up and ready to sleep, another message arrived.

Another unfamiliar number.

[Darling, I miss you so much, I can’t sleep without you.]

Attached was a photo of a man baring his body.

Seeing this photo, Claire lost all sleepiness.

She placed her phone far away, feeling her eyes had been sullied with just one glance.

Who on earth!

In the black of night, Claire felt particularly helpless.

Subconsciously, she thought of Ethan Blackwood, but quickly dispelled the notion.

During this break, the other party sent her messages morning, noon, and night, each increasingly explicit.

Claire, unable to bear it, reported to the police; as expected, the other party had routed the IP address overseas, making it impossible to trace with a virtual number.

Since no physical harm had occurred, the police could only offer a few comforting words, unable to intervene.

Claire spent two restless days before returning to work on Monday, exhausted from lack of sleep.

At the school gate, she braced herself, straightening her back to greet the children.

"Ms. Shaw, you look tired. Is everything alright?"

It was Austin Lewis’s mother, who had transferred recently. She personally picked up and dropped off her child, distinctive among the many parents who relied on servants.

Being a transfer student, Claire paid extra attention, thankfully finding Mrs. Lewis gentle. Claire smiled, "I’m fine, Mrs. Lewis, thank you for your concern."

"I entrust Austin to you."

"That’s our duty. Though Austin is new, he’s adjusting well. Don’t worry, Mrs. Lewis."

Claire extended her hand to Austin Lewis, who glanced at her arrogantly and walked away without acknowledging her hand.

Mrs. Lewis appeared embarrassed, "Sorry, Ms. Shaw, this child..."

"It’s alright, we’ll take good care of him. Just give him some time."

Dealing with new parents, Claire was exceptionally patient, remembering how Mason Blackwood and Dustin Lawrence were initially aloof. It took her a long time to get them to open up.

Turning around, she suddenly felt a burning gaze on her, turning to find it was just parents dropping off kids.

Must have imagined it.

"Ms. Shaw."

Mason Blackwood saw her from afar and ran over, and from the other side, Dustin Lawrence got off the nanny’s car, sprinting just as fast.

Both seemed to compete, wanting to reach Claire Shaw first.

Racing against each other, Dustin, having a shorter distance from the car, managed a playful face at Mason.

Claire caught both rushing children, a slight smile forming at her lips, "Slow down, little ones, don’t fall."

Not seeing her for two days, the kids were particularly affectionate.

A familiar voice sounded nearby, "Ms. Shaw, you’re so gentle."

Claire looked up to meet Wyatt Lawrence’s eyes, her smile freezing instantly.

"What brings you here?"

Dustin Lawrence held Wyatt’s hand, curiously, "Ms. Shaw, do you know my uncle?"

Claire belatedly recalled Wyatt’s words about having two brothers above him—Dustin is his brother’s son?

The world is indeed small.

"Yes, we’ve met."

Today, Wyatt had shed his usual bright, sunny boy attire, wearing almost a rare suit.

Even his glaring yellow hair had been dyed back to black, looking quite presentable.

He extended a hand to Claire, "Ms. Shaw, I’ll be responsible for Dustin Lawrence’s drop-off and pick-up from now on. Please take care of him."

Claire shook hands briefly, then quickly let go, and after a few formal words, she turned and left.

Changing into her uniform in the changing room, another message appeared on her phone.

[Darling, wear a dress for me tomorrow.]

Claire could have screamed; she was right—the person had been mingling in the crowd!

Who could it be? Wyatt Lawrence?

During lunch break, a delivery of flowers arrived.

Mia Hughes snatched the card, reading aloud, "Darling, I’ll always be watching you."