No Divorce? The Billionaire's Love Chase! novel Chapter 166

He was using her compromise and obedience as another layer of insurance for Ann James and her son.

Claudia followed York into the living room, where Wendy immediately came to greet them.

Sewell looked at his son with undisguised pride.

"Now that you've come to your senses," Sewell said to Claudia, "you should focus on living a good life with York. Stop all this pointless drama."

Claudia gritted her teeth and said nothing.

Old Mr. Ferguson shot his grandson a warning glance.

"Claudia," he said to her, "as long as I'm around, no one can shake your position as the young mistress of the Ferguson family. Don't pay any mind to those unsavory women out there."

Claudia lowered her head and mumbled, "Thank you, Grandpa."

Though she said the words, she knew the truth.

Whether it was Old Mr. Ferguson or Sewell, they only cared about York and the Ferguson Group.

To them, she was just a pawn—useful enough to keep, but disposable when she wasn't.

Halfway through the meal, Claudia excused herself.

She couldn't eat, nor did she have the energy to continue playing a part in York's charade of a happy, harmonious family.

Wendy followed her out, pulling her into a side room. "Claudia, think about what I told you. Please don't get stuck on this."

Claudia tried to reassure her. "Mom, I've thought it through. Life is short; I'll get by one way or another."

She had a family who loved her, friends who worried about her, a career about to start, and colleagues to work alongside. As long as she kept moving forward without looking back, her life was sure to be brilliant.

York approached them, placing a glass of milk in Claudia's hands. "What are you two talking about?"

Claudia clutched the glass. "Nothing."

York stood there in a dark robe, the belt tied loosely at his waist, his short hair still damp.

He led her to the vanity and started drying her hair with a hairdryer.

His touch was gentle and patient as his elegant fingers stroked her hair.

Claudia reached for the hairdryer. "I can do it myself."

York handed it to her, then bent down, scooped her up, and pinned her against the counter.

The hairdryer slipped from her panicked grasp, clattering loudly on the floor. "York, let go of me!"

His lips brushed against the corner of her mouth, a phantom kiss.

"Do I need to repeat the contents of that agreement for you?" he asked.