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.

her late twenties stepped forward

in finding the perfect outfit," he explained, delegating the task to

to see her superstar crush, Adam Whitmore, in real life that she couldn't take her eyes off him. Claire was both amused and slightly empathetic. Being Adam's wife meant dealing with this kind of

wife, not me. So, wake up," he said with his usual charming smile, the one he reserved for

pink with embarrassment. "This way, ma'am," she

her jaw nearly dropped at the astronomical price tags. She wanted to shout at the absurdity of it all, but playing the part of Adam Whitmore's

marveling at their

she noticed Claire

of wearing such expensive outfits. She had never tried designer dresses before and couldn't imagine them suiting her-she

one," came Adam's

right behind her, startling Claire. She hadn't realized he was standing so close while she was lost in thought. For a moment, she wondered

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 in shock. "Adam, I'm not a teenager, and I

closer to her. "Try it for me, babe. I want to see my sexy wife make this dress even sexier when she wears it," he said, his voice low and teasing. He pulled her gently into his arms, his intense gaze fixed on her face as

giddy watching her idol be so romantic with his wife. She quietly

of affection Adam was showing without a care in the world, despite having an

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

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 shrugged off her denim jacket and white tank top before stepping out of her shoes and cargo jeans. Holding the sultry magenta dress in her hands, she examined it carefully, biting her lip. It was

made for someone like me a nerd, she thought, her insecurities gnawing at her. Still, against her better judgment,

the outfit her husband had chosen for her, hoping it wouldn't make

dressed, Claire

over the fabric, marveling at how perfectly it fit. The dress hugged