Capturing the Young Doctor's Heart: Mr. Big Shot Won't Let Me Go-Chapter 41 - 40: Worried Sick

The husky voice reached Keane Lowell’s ears, pulling him back to his senses.

He stopped his hand, gradually retracting the killing intent in his eyes.

The white shirt he wore was stained with blood, the red color looking eerie.

He wiped the blood from his hands with a handkerchief, then walked over to Claire Prescott, and without a word, picked her up horizontally.

Claire said softly, "I can walk by myself."

Keane pretended not to hear, his whole body faintly emitting a cold and terrifying aura.

One lamp after another cast shadows on his face, those deep eyes no longer held the gentle light they used to, the corners of his eyes still stained with a bloodthirsty red, like he had walked out from hell, devoid of any warmth.

This was the first time she had seen him in such an intimidating manner.

Taking the elevator, they exited the club, drawing the gaze of many.

Claire wrapped her arms around his neck, burrowing into his embrace, so that in the end she was carried onto the car by him, naturally sitting sideways on his lap.

Assistant Cheney hurriedly followed, quietly closed the car door for them, returned to the driver’s seat, and drove off steadily.

The headlights illuminated the shadows, the night was thick.

The man’s profile sank into the dim light, his eyes cold and silent, deep-set with stillness.

Claire’s entire body was encircled by his solid and powerful arms; she felt like she was sitting on a human-shaped ice block, uncomfortable and unable to move.

She didn’t know how to make him return to his usual self.

So when her gaze fell on those lips pressed into a straight line, impulsively, she hooked his neck and gently kissed him, even pressed his lower lip a little.

Very inexperienced.

When they separated, an electrifying tingling sensation enveloped her.

But with just that, something bubbled in her, especially when she met those deep and captivating eyes, her heartbeat seemed to skip a beat.

"I..., mm..."

Keane sealed her voice with his lips, as the partition rose, forming an even narrower, more private space.

He opened his mouth to engulf those soft lips, one hand moved from her underarm upwards, and clasped her nape, his breath scorching hot, burning, twisting around her.

His broad and mature body held her tighter, the force seemingly wanting to merge her into his bones and blood.

Claire clung to his shoulder, swept in his taste, an unusual heat flowed down her chest continuously, her body utterly softening in his arms.

Only when she was almost out of breath did Keane release her, reluctantly pulling back from her fragrant softness, meeting those damp eyes, watching her shy, slightly panting appearance.

"Sorry." His voice was low and steady, he raised his hand suddenly, covering the swelled lips he had kissed, gently helping her wipe away the lipstick smudge around her lips.

Claire couldn’t bear his gaze, shyly burying herself in his embrace.

Keane, however, embraced her to him, gently stroked her head, and kissed her forehead, "Sorry, I was too worried just now."

In fact, she could handle that person alone, but what happened just now was unbearable, she didn’t want to mention it in front of him.

"It’s all over now." She comforted him.

Eventually, her heartbeat returned to normal, the temperature inside the car gradually dropped.

Claire quietly leaned against his neck, until they arrived at a hotel, she spoke to him, "Can you take me back home?"

...

Valoria Club.

A group of people bent down on their knees in front of Finn Prescott, the person lying on the ground was bloody and unrecognizable, even his parents could barely recognize who he was.

The renowned high-end furniture brand, The Tate in Valoria, had some political ties, always managing to escape unpunished.

Now they’ve provoked the Prescott Family, their bad luck has run out.

Finn Prescott was sitting on the sofa with a cigarette between his fingers, coldly watching the two people who kept bowing to him in apology, even though their heads were already smashed and bloodied, his eyes didn’t show any softness.

He had just gone through another moment where his younger sister disappeared right under his nose, unable to find her, and this time, he saw with his own eyes from the surveillance how his sister was bullied.

If it had been a step later, his sister might have died at their hands.

He didn’t dare to even think about that situation, how could he possibly forgive them easily. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

With deep furrowed brows, suddenly the assistant walked in, informing him of the hotel Keane Lowell was staying at.

"Think carefully whether or not you want to keep his lower body before you come to see me." Finn Prescott left a final sentence, got up, and left.

...

The car stopped at the entrance, the villa was illuminated by a cold and clear glow.

Claire Prescott moved her legs, got off him, and Keane Lowell followed down from the car, glancing around at her living environment.

In the next moment, his wrist was grasped.

"Let’s go to my house and deal with your wound first." Claire Prescott spoke softly, then directly led him into the house.

Granny Lee seemed momentarily stunned when she saw them, calling her, "Miss."

Claire Prescott calmly asked, "Auntie, where did you put the medicinal wine I brought back a couple of days ago?"

"It’s in the storage room, I’ll go get it for you." Granny Lee quickly brought out a bottle of medicinal wine, asking, "Is it this one?"

"Yes."

Afterwards, Granny Lee poured two glasses of water for them, then quietly left the living room, leaving the space for the two of them.

Claire Prescott took a cotton ball, dipped it in the medicinal wine, and looked at his hand.

The joint was red and slightly ulcerated from external impact, she held his hand and gently applied the medicine.

It was her first time bringing someone home, so she was quite nervous, worried her father might suddenly come back, thus she wasn’t slow in applying the medicinal wine, but very gentle, extremely focused.

Focused to the point that she didn’t even notice the snow-white curves exposed below her collarbone.

Keane Lowell’s gaze landed on them, his throat tightened slightly, then unobtrusively shifted away, silently focusing on her clear and attentive face.

Claire Prescott lifted her eyes, crashing into a pair of deep eyes, an ambiguous emotion lingered in the air.

At that moment, a sudden noise from the doorway broke the atmosphere.

Their eyes turned towards it, only to see Finn Prescott appearing, he glanced at the two on the sofa with a shadowy expression, turned away, and went upstairs.

His footsteps were heavy, as if he wanted to stamp through the stairs.

Claire Prescott snapped back to reality, unhurriedly putting the medicine bottle away, advising, "The medicine is applied, tonight don’t let this hand touch water when you get home."

Not even five minutes inside the house, Claire Prescott had already sent him to the door.

She suddenly approached him, reached out and hugged his waist, "Thank you for appearing in time tonight, go back and rest well, don’t worry about me."

Those clean and bright eyes in the dim lighting were filled with emotion, Keane Lowell wanted to speak but hesitated, and finally, planted a kiss on her forehead, whispering, "Goodnight."

Claire Prescott smiled softly.

Letting him go, watching him leave.

The lights on the third floor upstairs illuminated the room, the scene of an embrace and kissing entirely captured by Finn Prescott’s eyes, he silently turned away, then went downstairs.

Coincidentally, Claire Prescott came from outside, as they met, the atmosphere suddenly turned heavier.

Finn Prescott looked at her neck, asking with concern, "Is your neck alright?"

Claire Prescott glanced at him indifferently, "Not broken."

"I’m sorry, I didn’t protect you well."

"It’s not your fault." Dropping these words, Claire Prescott headed upstairs.

...