Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband by Paga Slayer

Chapter 282 Dressing For Him

The crowd went wild, making it nearly impossible for Adam to move forward. Even his bodyguards struggled to control the chaos, as they weren't allowed to use force unless there was a direct threat. Adam had given strict instructions that his fans should never be hurt or feel disrespected by his security team's actions, so the guards had to tread carefully.

Amelia was present but remained behind the scenes, observing the situation. She quickly texted Claire, urging her to get Adam into a shop immediately so the security team could manage the crowd more effectively.

Claire read Amelia's message and took a deep breath, summoning all her courage. Steeling herself, she pushed through the throng, reaching Adam's side. She grabbed his hand firmly, her eyes meeting his in a silent communication. He smiled, and before the crowd could guess what was happening, Claire and Adam made a swift exit. Their bodyguards surrounded them, making sure they were out of reach of the excited fans.

Claire finally stopped when they were inside a well-known store that Adam endorsed as part of his brand partnerships.

"Wow!" Adam remarked, his eyes filled with admiration as he looked at her. "I must say, you're witty and sharp."

Claire chuckled. "And?" she prompted playfully.

"And brave as well," he added with a nod of approval. His eyes softened with pride as they lingered on her. "And all mine," he whispered, gently tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. Claire blinked in surprise, her heart skipping a beat at Adam Whitmore's words. Was he serious, or was this just another charming line? She couldn't quite tell.

Before she could process or respond, the store manager approached them with a bright smile, interrupting the moment.

"Welcome to our store, Mr. Whitmore and Mrs. Whitmore," the manager greeted warmly. "How may I assist you?"

"Show me your best collection for my wife," Adam demanded curtly, completely ignoring the manager's polite greeting.

Claire rolled her eyes, reminded of the superstar's characteristic rudeness she had momentarily forgotten.

"Of course, Mr. Whitmore. It would be our pleasure," the manager replied, his professionalism unwavering. Turning to Claire, he added, "Mrs. Whitmore." He then signaled to a staff member.

woman in her late twenties stepped

She'll assist Mrs. Whitmore in finding the perfect outfit," he

couldn't take her eyes off him. Claire was both amused and slightly empathetic. Being Adam's wife meant dealing with this kind of adoration for him everywhere they went, but she reminded herself it was only for a year. Shaking her head, she watched as Adam snapped the salesgirl out

to assist my wife, not me. So, wake up," he said with his usual charming smile,

I'm sorry, sir," Jenny stammered, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink with embarrassment. "This way, ma'am," she urged Claire politely, gesturing toward the women's

exclusive women's section, showcasing their limited-edition collection designed for VIP clients. Claire's eyes widened in awe as she took in the stunning dresses, but her jaw nearly dropped at the astronomical price tags. She wanted to

marveling at their beauty but

Jenny asked when she noticed Claire wasn't interested in trying on any

the discomfort rising within her at the thought of wearing such expensive outfits. She had never tried designer dresses before and couldn't imagine them suiting her-she wasn't a celebrity or

one," came Adam's

thought. For a moment, she wondered why he was even in the women's section-shouldn't he

Jenny chirped enthusiastically, her eyes lighting up as she admired the dress Adam held. When Claire turned to face him, she saw him holding a metallic pink sequin crop top with a matching mini skirt. Her eyes widened

he said, his voice low and

her idol be so romantic with his wife. She quietly stepped aside to give them

of affection Adam was showing without a care in

and gently pushing him away. Adam smirked but released her, his eyes

toward the fitting room, clutching the dress tightly. She desperately needed the privacy of the enclosed space to calm her racing heart and the sensations her superstar husband had stirred within her making her grow wet under his intense hungry gaze. Inside, she

dress wasn't made for someone like me a nerd, she thought, her insecurities gnawing at her. Still, against her

a deep breath, Claire began slipping into the outfit her husband had chosen for her, hoping it wouldn't make

Claire

the fabric, marveling at how perfectly it fit. The dress hugged her curves as though it had been tailored just for