Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 97: Don’t Hug Me, I’m Dirty

The moment he was about to touch Claire Shaw, the woman with her eyes tightly closed suddenly opened her eyes.

Her bewildered large eyes looked at him blankly, her voice hoarse, "What are you doing?" 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

Damn it, why did she have to wake up now?

Fortunately, Ethan Blackwood had thick skin, so Claire Shaw couldn’t see his face reddening from embarrassment.

He reached out to grab a corner of the blanket, his handsome face full of righteous integrity, making it impossible to guess the indecent thoughts he had just moments before.

"Your blanket fell off. I was helping you cover up."

Claire Shaw smiled slightly at him, "Brother, you’re so nice."

After saying this, she felt there was no danger anymore, closed her eyes, and fell asleep again with a faint smile on her lips.

Her long eyelashes were curly and upturned, looking incredibly beautiful.

Like a sick beauty in her dreams.

Ethan Blackwood heaved a long sigh to the heavens, what a sin!

He turned around and went back into the bathroom.

Claire Shaw slept directly until the afternoon, her high fever had subsided.

The heavy rain outside finally stopped, and the apartment was quiet.

The bedroom curtains were drawn; waking up in the dim room, Claire Shaw felt a sense of being abandoned by the whole world.

Her body had sweat a lot, and she felt thirsty and weak.

Reaching out to turn on the lamp on the nightstand, there was a thermos flask on it.

The temperature was just right for drinking, and Claire Shaw drank large gulps.

She lifted the blanket to get up; her slippers were neatly placed by the bed.

While expressions and acting can be faked, these little details are the real test of a person.

Claire Shaw’s head was still a bit dizzy, but it was much better than before, just that her body felt weak, probably due to excessive sweating.

She walked slowly around the room; the kitchen had no sign of him.

But food was prepared.

Freshly ground soy milk, chicken soup simmering in a clay pot, millet porridge, and two trays of buns: one tray of sweet buns and vegetable buns, the other of fresh meat and sauce meat buns.

There were even a few cold dishes and salted duck eggs prepared beside, along with milk and sandwiches.

Seeing those things, Claire Shaw’s heart instantly felt struck.

She took a small bite of a sweet bun, the honey-like syrup melting on Claire Shaw’s tongue.

She seldom ate sweets after growing up, but what Ethan Blackwood made for her, she liked very much.

Claire’s former wariness of men was slowly breaking down.

She even had some expectations about Ethan Blackwood, if she took a step forward, what would she get?

Would it be happiness, or harm?

Her originally certain thoughts started to waver a bit.

Not knowing if he went to the company, Claire wanted to thank him personally.

Turning on her phone, she saw many messages from Mia Hughes and sent her a message to tell her she was safe.

Without bothering to see how famous she became online, Claire immediately dialed Ethan Blackwood’s number.

The phone rang for a long time before an elderly voice spoke just before it was about to be hung up: "Hello, Ms. Shaw."

Claire instantly recognized it was the butler and got a bit flustered.

She didn’t know whether to use Mason Blackwood as an excuse or to directly ask for Ethan Blackwood.

"Uh, is Mr. Blackwood at home?"

"Mm, sir has arranged for someone to come over to spar."

Sparring?

Why would he be sparring instead of going to work at a time like this, a possibility suddenly crossed Claire’s mind.

"Is the person he arranged for by the name of Liu?"

"Seems like it’s Liu, the person’s almost here..."

Before the butler could finish, Claire had already hung up the phone, hurriedly donned her clothes.

With Ethan Blackwood’s nature, he’d definitely participate personally, and Cecilia Lewis was not an ordinary person.

With his tall build and powerful fists, when his hands gripped her neck, even without using much strength, Claire felt suffocated.

Even if Ethan Blackwood wouldn’t lose, it wouldn’t end well for him.

Claire dragged her sickly body out in the rain, rushing to The Blackwood Family house.

More than being surprised, the butler was excited; Ms. Shaw was here for Ethan, not Mason.

The little girl he had kept in mind for so many years finally opened her eyes to look at him.

Ethan Blackwood’s villa was too big; Claire parked her car, forgot her umbrella, and ran over in the drizzling rain.

The butler quickly came with an umbrella to meet her, "Ms. Shaw, don’t catch cold."

"Thank you, I’m looking for Mr. Blackwood."

Having been here once, Claire put aside etiquette, swiftly maneuvering to the elevator.

As the elevator doors opened.

A "bang" sounded, and Ethan Blackwood knocked someone down with a punch, who couldn’t get up anymore.

On the platform stood a man, wearing shorts, barefoot, exposed skin dark.

His muscles were powerful and wild, like a top predator on the African savannah.

A wound on his waist and abdomen was forced open by punches, thick blood flowing profusely below.

"Ethan Blackwood!" Claire Shaw’s delicate voice rang out.

The man looked at her, the blood lust in his eyes not yet faded; his face, chest, and calves were all stained with blood.

It was the first time Claire saw Ethan Blackwood so fierce and bathed in blood.

Like a thousand years ago, yellow sands filled the sky, bones littered the field, sounds of battle carried by the wind, blood dyeing the homeland red, leaving a blood-covered general standing undeterred holding a spear.

An image flashed in her mind.

But the image vanished quickly, too quickly for her to capture, just feeling like she had seen something like it before.

He seemed like a child who had done something wrong, his face full of guilt and unease, his deep voice tense: "Claire, I..."

Ethan hadn’t expected Claire Shaw to suddenly appear here; the last thing he wanted was for her to see such a bloody scene.

She was so clean and bright, like the moon in the sky.

His blood-soaked self contrasted sharply with the fair-skinned girl.

"Don’t come over." He instinctively stopped Claire Shaw.

He knew the girl was afraid of blood; he didn’t want to scare her.

Yet Claire strode towards him regardless.

Ethan instinctively dodged, the girl’s teary eyes looked pitiful, slightly blood-colored lips pursed.

Looking so aggrieved, seeing him dodge, Claire stood still, tears began to fall.

Tiny pearls rolled down her white, smooth cheeks, leaving watery traces.

Trickling down past her sharp little chin.

Showing what it means to be a tear-streaked flower, what it means to be delicate and pitiful.

What it means to dig out one’s heart and soul, Ethan now understood deeply.

He had only one thought in his mind now, my dear, as long as you don’t cry, you can have my heart.

"Why are you crying?" Ethan still kept his distance from her, even fearing the smell of blood on him might overwhelm her.

Hearing his deep voice, Claire felt a surge of grievances.

How much pain must he be in?

Afraid he would dodge again, Claire didn’t dare approach hastily, only stood in place with a sobbing voice: "Come over..."

The dear had spoken; Ethan really had no choice.

He took a few steps forward, still keeping a three-step distance from Claire.

"Closer."

"But..."

Words of refusal at the tip of his tongue, he saw the little girl who ran all the way from the parking lot, with a fine layer of water droplets over her soft black hair.

Tiny tears hung from long, curly eyelashes, with tiny pearls about to roll down again.

Ethan really couldn’t stand it, so he took two more steps.

Leaving just one step between them.

Still unsatisfied, Claire sobbed, "You clearly said, I don’t need to take a single step!"

Well, now she felt wronged.

Ethan helplessly took the last step, and they were very close.

Suddenly, Claire reached out her soft arms like lotus roots to wrap around his waist.

Ethan didn’t expect the clean-loving girl to actively hug him.

His protruding Adam’s apple moved, his voice raspy and sexy, "Baby, don’t hug me, it’s dirty."

Claire’s heart surged, her eyes full of concern; she reached up to touch Ethan’s face, her fingertip wiping off a smear of blood under his eye.

Her voice soft and endearing, "Brother, does it hurt?"