Miles stepped out from backstage in a perfectly tailored suit that made him look even taller.
At his side was Louis Warren, the family patriarch, silver-haired but sharp and energetic.
The moment Claire met Miles’s eyes, she let go of the tiny camera hidden in her bag.
She lowered her gaze. Her lashes trembled, and her eyes turned faintly red as she tried to look composed despite her obvious vulnerability.
Claire didn’t say a word. She just looked at Miles.
Now she would wait for him to step in and use the chance to draw him closer.
If she wanted to win him over, making him feel sorry for her was a key step.
Miles walked over, took the ring box from Monica, closed it, and calmly handed it back to Yvonne.
"I was passing backstage when I saw the ring. It looked valuable, so I put it somewhere safe. I didn’t realize the bag belonged to Ms. Kendall. It was a misunderstanding."
His voice was calm and left no room for argument.
Monica started to panic.
’I went to all that trouble to set Claire up, and he killed it with a few words? No. I can’t let it end here.’
Monica raised her voice. "Mr. Warren, Yvonne is your own niece. You don’t need to take an outsider’s side!"
Yvonne’s face tightened. She quickly tugged Monica’s sleeve, telling her to stop.
"The ring was found in her bag. You don’t have to make excuses for her!"
Miles stayed cool. "You said it yourself. Yvonne is my niece. So why would I take an outsider’s side over hers?"
Monica had no answer.
Louis’s sharp gaze moved from Monica to Yvonne.
"Yvonne, this is the kind of friend you keep? She talks to Miles like that right in front of me? Have you forgotten how to respect your elders?"
Yvonne shook her head quickly. "No, Grandpa. She..."
For once, Yvonne couldn’t even come up with an excuse for Monica.
Louis gave Monica a look of open disgust.
"Security. Get her out. I won’t have someone this rude causing a scene at a Warren family event."
A security guard covered Monica’s mouth and dragged her out of the ballroom as everyone watched her humiliation.
Yvonne’s face darkened. Monica was her guest, which made the humiliation hers too.
Louis turned to Jacob, his tone more measured.
"Jacob, Yvonne’s parents spoiled her growing up. She still has a lot to learn about dealing with people. I hope you’ll be patient with her."
Evelyn stepped in at once with a smile. "Mr. Warren, Yvonne is kind and gracious. If anything, she’ll be the one keeping Jacob in line."
Louis nodded, then noticed the silk scarf around Evelyn’s neck.
"Young lady, did you make that?"
Claire blinked, surprised he had noticed, then quickly nodded.
"Double-sided hand embroidery. I haven’t seen work this clean in years." Louis glanced at his butler. "Bennett, get this young woman’s contact information. I have a few antique textiles in my collection that need restoration."
Everyone turned toward Claire in surprise.
Louis was famously hard to impress. A personal compliment from him, plus a request for her contact information, was the kind of endorsement money couldn’t buy.
Claire was genuinely honored. "Moonstone Studio will do everything we can."
Yvonne watched Claire become the center of attention at her own engagement party. Her nails dug into her palms as she forced herself to keep smiling.
’I’ve been designing for years and Grandpa has never praised my work once. And now Jacob can’t take his eyes off Claire. Why her?’
Once the interruption was over, the party continued and everyone took their seats.
After being personally singled out by Louis, Claire couldn’t exactly leave. Bennett led her to a table with several other young women.
Miles was seated right beside her.
Claire slipped out her phone beneath the tablecloth and quietly sent him a message.
[Dr. Warren, thank you so much for what you did just now.]
[That shirt looks great under the suit. If you took off the jacket, I could get a better look at my work.]
Sent.
Miles’s phone vibrated in his suit pocket. He waited until an older guest at the table finished speaking before checking it.
Miles studied the screen for a moment, then locked his phone.
Claire watched him from the corner of her eye.
He looked as calm and straightlaced as ever, completely unmoved.
She was used to that by now.
Just as Claire was about to look away, Miles took off his suit jacket and draped it over the back of his chair.
He looked relaxed, though his back stayed straight. He rolled up his sleeves, exposing his wrists, while the distinctive collar of her shirt sharpened the line of his jaw.
He could make anything look good.
Claire’s heart jumped. Miles had actually responded, and somehow managed to make it both obvious and subtle.
She pressed her lips together, but couldn’t stop the pleased lift of her brows.
Claire picked up her phone and sent another message.
[I can see it now. It looks good. Even better than I imagined.]
Miles replied.
[It was hot, so I took it off.]
Claire stared at the message, amusement flickering in her eyes.
’Still pretending it has nothing to do with me. Such a shameless closet flirt.’
Jacob forced himself through the rest of the engagement ceremony with Yvonne.
As he prepared to leave the main hall, his eyes landed on Miles.
Jacob stopped short.
That shirt Miles was wearing looked familiar—almost exactly like Claire’s work, like the one he had seen hanging in her office.
But he had only caught a quick glimpse of that shirt, so he couldn’t be sure.
Jacob’s eyes narrowed as his suspicion grew.
Near the end of the party, the mood relaxed and Claire got up to use the restroom.
At a corner in the hallway, someone grabbed her wrist hard and shoved her into a nearby lounge.
Jacob followed her in, furious, and pinned her against the door.
His breath was heavy with alcohol.
"Claire, showing up at your own boyfriend’s engagement party—get a thrill out of that?"
Claire’s back hurt where she had hit the door, and Jacob’s grip was already leaving red marks around her wrist. She struggled, but he wouldn’t let go.
She looked straight into his furious eyes. "Ex-boyfriend."
Her voice turned colder. "Mr. Sinclair, let go of me. Keep your hands to yourself."
The anger in Jacob’s eyes deepened.
"Keep my hands to myself?" He gave a humorless laugh. "You don’t need me anymore, so now you’ve got an attitude? Or did you already find someone else to latch onto?"