Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 39 - 38: The Ultimate Pure Beauty

She pondered for a long time and couldn’t think of a suitable response.

If only all of this had happened naturally, then she wouldn’t be so torn.

However, just as she was about to fall asleep, a fitting reply suddenly flashed through her mind. She immediately sat up from her bed and typed: [Wait for you to teach me how to play golf.]

After she sent the message, there was no response.

She glanced at the time and realized how quickly it had passed; it was almost midnight.

The next day.

She heard from the servants that Finn Prescott had left early in the morning.

She sat alone, having breakfast, quietly contemplating things.

Suddenly, Zara Leighton called, saying she was about to board a flight abroad.

With someone leaving for another country, she felt inexplicably empty inside, gave a few words of advice, and then hung up the phone.

A while later, she returned to the old house where her grandparents lived.

Around three in the afternoon, while accompanying her grandmother in the backyard to practice calligraphy, the butler returned with a group, reporting, "Madam, the makeup artists and stylists you requested are here."

The old lady stopped her brush and instructed, "Take Claire for makeup."

Claire Prescott was puzzled, "Makeup for what?"

"Tonight, the Valoria Club is having a party. I’ve already spoken to your brother; he’ll take you there for some fun."

Upon hearing this, she knew it wasn’t anything good.

Claire Prescott refused, "Grandmother, I don’t want to go."

The old lady patted her head and coaxed, "Be good, go ahead. Your brother will be back at half-past five to take you. You can meet some new friends there."

"I..." Claire hesitated.

Forget it.

It was surely another one of grandmother’s tricks to keep her in Valoria.

She ultimately obeyed and followed the butler back to the room.

Meeting, she went to the guest room on the first floor.

The lead makeup artist stared intently at every inch of her skin, as if captivated by the person in front of her, unable to take her eyes off.

After a while, she came back to her senses and broke the silence, "Miss Prescott, your skin is truly excellent."

However, the young miss in front of her merely gave her a faint look and didn’t respond.

She didn’t mind it.

When her hand touched her face, she could clearly feel the contours of her features, each part extraordinarily exquisite and smooth.

As the top makeup artist in the country, her clients were either socialites or top-tier celebrities, among whom many had some artificial enhancements. But facing such a naturally beautiful person with a clean and pure aura was truly rare.

In that upper-class circle, she was absolutely a stunning presence.

It was just a pity.

It’s said that this Prescott heiress had been raised in deep seclusion from a young age, never appearing in public.

"Miss Prescott, the makeup and hair are tailored to match the high fashion chosen by the madam for you. I’ll make slight adjustments according to your temperament. If there’s any dissatisfaction, feel free to let me know."

"Okay." Claire Prescott replied calmly, found a movie to watch, and passed the time.

The whole process took nearly an hour.

Claire Prescott stretched, embraced the dress, and went into the bedroom to change.

As she came out, her grandmother and Finn Prescott happened to walk in. Everyone in the room focused their bright-eyed attention on her.

The pearly white satin embraced her waist, with only straps holding it up, blending into her ink-black, seaweed-like hair.

Her snow-white and delicate shoulders and neck were completely exposed to the air, with waves of pleats flowing down from her chest, giving a misty and ethereal sense of lightness, subtly sexy in its pure elegance.

Finally, it was her grandmother who first came to her senses, smiled, and approached her, "Truly a beautiful young lady, even an old lady like me would be moved."

The lead designer immediately praised, "The simpler, the more beautiful Miss looks. Madam, you have a good eye for choosing this high fashion for her."

Looking into the mirror, Claire Prescott almost couldn’t recognize herself. She doubted, "Does it really look good wearing it like this?"

The old lady’s voice was firm, "It looks good."

Saying this, she turned her eyes to Finn Prescott, "If you don’t believe me, ask your brother."

Finn Prescott frowned slightly and said blandly, "It’s okay."

The old lady’s eyes fell on the slender tube hanging from her waist.

A very thin tube, about the length of a finger.

She asked curiously, "What’s this?"

Claire Prescott replied, "It contains silver needles, used for emergencies if an accident happens."

"This child, always caring about others’ safety even when out to relax." The old lady sighed and said no more.

Outside, it was nearly dark.

After giving a final word of advice, she allowed them to leave.

Along the way, Claire Prescott said nothing in the car, her eyes dark and lacking in brightness.

First Ethan Lancaster, then meeting more people from the elite circle...

Connecting the two.

It seemed.

They hoped for her return, worrying about her life’s major decisions.

...

As night fell, the city lights began to glow.

Finn Prescott looked at the rearview mirror with a frown, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out of the car.

He then took her in by swiping the card at the club.

The so-called party was at the top level, gathering nobles and young ladies from the elite circle. As they appeared, gazes followed them, silently fixing on them.

Golden youth, men and women, dressed glamorously and pleasing to the eye.

A man approached, stared straight at her, and asked Finn Prescott, "Young President Prescott, who is this?"

Finn Prescott replied softly, "My sister."

The man was visibly surprised, filled with disbelief.

He had long known Finn had a half-sister but had never seen him take her out before. Seeing her today, the legitimate Prescott heiress was truly pure.

Finn Prescott held her wrist and guided her to a seat in one area.

People interested in her gathered around with wine glasses, some even treating her as an innocent, obedient girl, pampering her in the splendidly grand hall, where she gradually became the center of attention.

Next to her, several socialites watched Claire Prescott’s back with cold eyes.

Simply because the men who had been teasing and entertaining them had mostly flocked to her. The limelight stolen like this made one resentful.

"Just a newcomer, what’s the big deal? She doesn’t even have Faye’s figure or her femininity."

Someone chimed in, "Exactly."

Faye Lynn sipped her red wine lightly.

As the number one socialite in The Valorian Circle, she naturally received adoration and the men pursuing her could queue up all the way to England.

Though she hadn’t taken a liking to any of them, when the spotlight is taken away, there’s still emotion inside her.

Of course, in some small groups present, Claire Prescott received evaluations like "the pinnacle of pure desire" and "a refreshing breeze in The Valorian Circle."

Treated with great hospitality, Claire Prescott gradually blended in, while Finn Prescott sat beside her, his brows furrowed without relaxing.

It was obvious she didn’t enjoy playing with these people but had to feign familiarity and mingle with them in card games.

It was like using a form of retaliatory behavior to combat the gloom in her heart.

When she reached out for a drink, he quickly stopped her, publicly preventing, "Girls should not drink alcohol."

Soon, someone replaced it with a glass of plain water for her.

Then another person jested, "I didn’t expect Young President Prescott to protect his sister so much. No wonder he’s never brought her out before."

Claire Prescott was annoyed by the comment, picked up the glass of water and took a sip, then resumed playing cards.

After just one round, she placed her cards casually on the table and said in a soft voice, "Going to the bathroom."

Her graceful figure passed by the men, leaving a faint fragrance lingering in the air.