Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 92: Overwhelmed

The wind and rain outside gradually lessened, gently pattering against the transparent glass window.

Claire Shaw was kissed into a daze, tears welling up from the intensity of it. That powerful kiss was steeped in the strong scent of tobacco, as he was just too overwhelming for her to handle.

She knew that Ethan Blackwood was punishing her in this manner.

Claire Shaw dared not joke with him anymore, nodding repeatedly, "Yes, yes, I felt it, very strongly."

Her voice trembled slightly, as if she’s softly pleading.

Ethan Blackwood forcefully suppressed the wildness in his eyes; in the past, he would’ve certainly teased the young girl with some off-color jokes.

At the moment, his gaze was sharp, his face wearing an indissoluble coldness, as he continued the previous topic, "I will get to the bottom of The Lewis Family’s matter."

Claire Shaw instantly understood his meaning, "You suspect Cecilia Lewis has someone else behind her?"

"Never jump to conclusions easily; sometimes, even seeing might not be believing." Ethan Blackwood’s words were suggestive.

Claire Shaw regained her composure and calmness, "Years ago, he was sent in because of me, and now less than three months out he’s targeting me again, understandable if for revenge—but for it to be this roundabout... "

Ethan Blackwood sensitively caught the crucial information, "What else did he do?"

Claire Shaw hadn’t told anyone about the harassment texts, not even Mia Hughes.

Seeing Claire Shaw’s concealed demeanor, Ethan Blackwood aggressively approached, "Claire, what are you hiding from me?"

Since knowing each other, Ethan Blackwood had never questioned her like this, making her heart thump nervously.

She finally understood the innate sense of awe ordinary people felt when they saw Ethan Blackwood; it truly was terrifying!

"Just... just some junk messages."

The man’s large hand opened in front of her, "Give me your phone."

Claire Shaw dared not refuse, feeling that Ethan Blackwood seemed just like a Tyrannosaurus; if she dared say no, he’d certainly bite her head off.

Because she had to keep evidence, Claire Shaw hadn’t deleted a single message.

Ethan Blackwood swiped from the bottom up, each word filthier than the last.

Many messages even contained images, mostly depicting men’s organs.

As Claire Shaw watched Ethan Blackwood’s face grow colder and colder, his naturally dark complexion now resembled the black visage of the Judge Bao.

His face was clouded with dense, ominous clouds, keyed up like a brewing storm.

The veins on the back of his hand gripping the phone were strained tightly, their bulge suggesting he could tear her in half with a single hand.

She dared not make a sound, even intentionally slowing her breathing, trying her best to minimize her presence.

Though she didn’t utter a word, the man’s inherent oppressive presence forced upon her, making it hard for Claire Shaw to breathe.

She found an excuse, "I... I’ll go sleep first."

"Bang!"

Ethan Blackwood slammed her phone onto the kitchen counter mercilessly; Claire Shaw didn’t care whether the screen was shattered.

The man lifted his eyelids to look at her—it was a gaze of pure ice.

In a single moment, Claire Shaw was thrust into a frozen land, the biting cold wind piercing, freezing gradually from her toes outward.

Her steps to flee frozen stiffly in place.

Such an Ethan Blackwood was terrifying, like a frozen beast creeping forward step by step.

Claire Shaw’s body pressed against the kitchen counter, unable to move an inch, swallowing hard, "Um... "

Ethan Blackwood grasped her wrist, his grip much heavier than usual, his voice icily cold, "That night, the reason you were scared was the messages, wasn’t it?"

"Yes."

"Why didn’t you tell me?" Ethan Blackwood’s eyes burned fiercely with emotions.

"I... " Claire Shaw didn’t know how to explain to him.

After talking to Wyatt Lawrence, she instinctively wanted to delineate boundaries with him, to guard her heart, which was why she treated him coldly.

But when trouble arose, she still dialed Ethan Blackwood’s number first, indicating he was already irreplaceable to her.

Her previous rejection seemed like a joke.

Ethan Blackwood discerned her feelings, "Claire, you never planned to tell me. To you, I’m just like anyone else, just a stranger, right?"

Although Ethan Blackwood knew from the beginning her defensive psychology was strong, he thought Claire Shaw had already changed somewhat toward him. Little did he know, he was in her heart merely a tool to solve her needs.

Claire Shaw didn’t know where to start explaining, after all, that was indeed what she thought at the time.

Don’t fall for him, don’t love him, this matter she could handle herself.

Seeing her silence, Ethan Blackwood released her hand, "You’re good."

He then turned around to leave, "Bang!" He shut the door to the guest room.

Claire Shaw originally thought he would leave with a slam, but he didn’t.

In his fit of anger, he was still worried about whether her condition would relapse, whether she’d be scared during thunderstorms.

One’s anger comes and goes.

Claire Shaw looked at the closed door, momentarily unsure what to say.

Ethan Blackwood was angry, yet she seemed to lack experience comforting others.

Images of her interactions with Owen Crawford emerged in her mind, mostly she was cold and indifferent, never having argued with Owen Crawford.

In hindsight, her attitude towards Ethan Blackwood from the start was different.

She simply didn’t care about Owen Crawford’s fate, how could she bother with his emotions?

Even if occasionally Owen Crawford was mad at her and deliberately ignored her for days.

When he funnily came back around seeking her, Claire Shaw remained indifferent, not even aware he had ever been angry or that there was a cold war.

But Ethan Blackwood was different; his anger still carried a trace of sadness in his eyes, like a thorn lodged in Claire Shaw’s heart.

Claire Shaw just stood by the door, neither planning to knock nor intending to leave.

Standing for a long time, her feet began to hurt so she leaned against the door to sit down slowly, hugging her knees, habitually burying her face in them.

She had no social experience on how to comfort men.

She couldn’t be as indifferent as she was with Owen Crawford.

Claire Shaw’s mind was a mess; she sensed her reliance on Ethan Blackwood yet feared getting hurt by being involved with him.

No one could teach her what to do.

The answer she drew from her mother’s failed romance was to stay away from men and guard her heart.

Yet hearts are things beyond control.

Separated by a door, Ethan Blackwood sat with his back against it, hands resting on his knees, long legs slightly bent, looking utterly despondent.

He didn’t know what he ought to do, wished he could pull out his heart for her to see, though even then Claire Shaw would worry about a future yet to happen.

He wanted a cigarette, touched around but realized he left the pack in the kitchen.

He had left so dashingly that he now definitely couldn’t swallow his pride.

The standoff lasted till the middle of the night, Ethan Blackwood thought she must have already fallen asleep.

He muttered a curse, "Heartless little thing."

Pulling the door open, there sat a little girl quietly at the entrance.