Chapter 471 Always Claire

Alexander stood on the balcony, the city skyline spread out before him like a glittering tapestry. The cold breeze stung his cheeks, but he barely noticed. His mind was too tangled up in thoughts of Claire. He let out a deep sigh, his breath fogging in the chill air.

He'd considered inviting Claire to the Harris family Thanksgiving dinner, concocting the idea of a "business bonding" excuse just to see her. But even in his imagination, he could already hear her sharp refusal, her voice laced with sarcasm.

Claire wasn't the type to accept half-truths or hidden motives. The thought of her rolling her eyes at him was enough to squash the idea.

And yet, despite his hesitation, the gnawing regret wouldn't leave him. He missed her. More than he wanted to admit.

Why? Why Claire from all of the people he have to think about? Not to mention Claire was his ex-wife. Alexander thought to himself.

Why does it always come back to you, Claire?

He wondered bitterly. No matter how far he tried to distance himself, she was always there — an unrelenting presence in his mind.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the balcony door opening again. He turned, half-expecting his father, but instead, it was Abigail again. Her dark eyes looked up at him, filled with concern and also curiosity.

"Alex," she said softly, wrapping a shawl tighter around her shoulders. "Are you okay?"

He managed a tired smile. "Yeah. Just... thinking."

"Your mum called you. She said she have something important to tell you."

Alex raised his brows then frowned wondering what his mother wanted to tell him about. "Did she said why?"

Abigail shook her head. "No, but it seems that she wanted to talk to you about something."

the night sky. "Ok, thank you for telling me. Tell her I

a hint

length of her room for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The walls, a lifeless shade of beige, seemed

set her free from this suffocating prison. And yet, all she'd done was visit. Empty reassurances, hollow words. Gretta would

Images of Claire danced in her mind - Claire with her cold confidence, Claire with

think you're untouchable. But

lips. She could almost taste

Whatever it took to see that perfect façade

the look on Claire face when she finally is out from this crazy ward that fills with crazy

her dark thoughts. Gretta entered, her expression unreadable, clutching a file close

calm. "Things take time, Lisa. I can't just snap my fingers and get you out of here. If we're going to do this right, we need to be careful." Lisa's jaw clenched. "I don't

the file thoughtfully. "Soon. Just hold on a little

Because when I get out of

Metacortex, Claire leaned back

as she set her pen down. The glow of her desk lamp cast a soft light across the room, but the fatigue in her eyes refused to fade. The Thanksgiving dinner at the Saint Laurents' had been a brief respite, a taste of warmth and normalcy. But the world she lived in was rarely

drifted toward the window, the London skyline stretching out in the distance. The city felt vast, impersonal - a constant reminder that peace was

now, another event

party. The mere thought of it made her shoulders tense. She had a feeling it would be hosted

family might take the reins this year. The Saint Laurents were

relentless pursuit of prestige, could just as

own complications. And knowing Alexander, he wouldn't pass up a chance to use the occasion to... talk. To unsettle her,

door pulled her from her thoughts. Sandra peeked her head in, a cautious smile on

lips.

Claire?"

the exhaustion in her eyes betrayed her. "Just...

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