Chapter 144: Why Are You Running?

Claire couldn’t help but laugh when she heard his reasoning. She hadn’t noticed this side of Frederick before. Frederick frowned after listening to her words. He found he had started to care about her without even realizing it. This thought irritated him. To him, Claire was merely repaying her debt to Anna. How could he possibly care for her?

“Claire, you need to understand that, with my status, you can’t afford to stumble even slightly at a banquet,” he said, making an excuse. His tone lacked severity but carried an embarrassment at being exposed.

“Okay, I see. Are you still eating pasta?” Claire asked, seeing through it but not saying so, and nodded as she glanced at the pasta scattered on the floor.

“Yes! Serve me now!” Frederick commanded, pointing at the pot, which struck Claire as childish.

“Okay,” she replied, turning on the heat and preparing the pasta. The simple dish, with just a few vegetables and salt, tasted surprisingly delicious to him. Despite his privileged upbringing in the Hawthorne family and experiences as an Admiral, he found this ordinary bowl of pasta more satisfying than any gourmet meal he had ever had. He even finished the soup, which surprised Claire.

Growing up as the pampered daughter of the Prescott family, she had little cooking experience. Tonight, feeling hungry and too late to ask Wendy for help, she had made the pasta herself. Yet, Frederick, known for his pickiness, devoured it eagerly. For years, she had gone to great lengths to please him on his birthdays, meticulously choosing restaurants and chefs, only to hear his complaints.

“This meat is tough.” “The fish isn’t fresh.” “Can this knife skill be used as a chef? Claire, you must have found me a chef who changed his career halfway through.” All those critical words were still echoing in her ears. For so many years, Frederick was never satisfied.

And today, he ate such a simple meal that she made herself so cleanly, and he even looked like he was enjoying it. Claire was truly shocked. As she lay in bed, she recalled Frederick’s satisfied expression while eating. She recalled a sentence she’d encountered: “When you genuinely like someone, you’ll embrace everything about them.”

She thought, “Does that mean Frederick liked me?” The thought startled her, and she quickly dismissed it. Between them lay Anna’s life, the life of the woman he loved most. He once hated her so much that he sent her to prison. In prison, he ordered people to torture her. If he liked her, it would be like a cat falling in love with a mouse. She reasoned that he must have been too hungry to care about the meal’s quality. With that thought, her heart settled.

That night, they lay together without doing anything, simply sleeping side by side. It was the first time that Claire slept in the same bed with Frederick. She thought that he came over tonight just for physical needs.

Peacefully that night, without nightmares for the first time in years. During these four years in prison, she was awakened by nightmares almost every night. Not to mention the nights when she was not awakened by nightmares and was tortured by those crazy women. After she was released from prison, she was often awakened by nightmares, dreaming that she was back in prison again. Or she would dream that she returned to the Prescott Manor and was still the beloved little princess of the Prescott family. It was really ridiculous that she slept so soundly beside the one who sent her to prison.

When she woke the next morning, she was surprised to find Frederick still there. When she opened her eyes and saw Frederick’s face, she couldn’t help but be surprised.

“Why? What are you afraid of?” he asked, noticing her frightened look.

“I… I’m not afraid of anything,” she stammered. Listening to his hoarse voice, she suddenly recalled something she had read online about men waking up with hard penises and heightened sexual desires. Although she didn’t know if it was right or not, she didn’t want…

As she tried to get up, he pulled her back, pressing her beneath him. “Aren’t you afraid? Why are you running?”

“I…” Claire stammered, her eyes darting down to see a noticeable bulge in his pants.

“What do you think? Hmm?” he teased, following her gaze with a hearty smile.