Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 55: Schemes

As they brushed past each other, Ethan Blackwood casually threw out a line: "Ms. Shaw, men aren’t just for the bedroom; you can use me like you do in bed."

Ethan Blackwood made several trips back and forth, quickly moving all of Claire Shaw’s belongings downstairs.

Originally, Claire Shaw wasn’t planning to take those green plants because of the hassle, but Ethan Blackwood packed them up anyway. On the last trip down, he held a pot of roses in his left hand and a colorful painting under his right arm.

Claire Shaw carried a canvas bag on her back and hugged a sunflower cushion.

They walked side by side against the light.

The man silhouetted by the sunset was tall and slender. The sunlight blurred their features but outlined their figures, inexplicably making them seem like a perfect pair.

Mia Hughes and Sean Jacobs were already seated in the back row.

Claire Shaw glanced at the black Brabus pickup parked there, reminiscent of a lion king standing on tall rocks overlooking its territory on the African savanna, enormous and sleek.

Just like its owner, domineering and strong!

Just parking it there is enough to make everyone stop in their tracks.

Mia Hughes didn’t have such intricate thoughts and popped her head out to wave at Claire Shaw, "Claire, hurry up and get in!"

Ethan Blackwood opened the passenger door for Claire Shaw, who murmured a quiet thanks, "Thank you."

As soon as she got in the car, Mia Hughes exclaimed with excitement, "Isn’t this car so cool?"

Claire Shaw replied softly, "Over ten million, how could it not be cool?"

"Oh my god, it’s so expensive! I thought it was just one or two million," Mia Hughes said, utterly shocked.

She knew Ethan Blackwood was wealthy, but she didn’t expect a random pickup used for moving would be so costly.

This is the gap between the rich and the poor; even your wildest fantasies aren’t worth one percent of their real life.

Mia Hughes poked Sean Jacobs’ arm, "The car you drove last time to pick me up wasn’t less than a million either, right?"

Sean Jacobs loved her naïve demeanor, pulling her into his arms, "Not expensive."

Claire Shaw didn’t expose them; regardless of whether they could be together in the future, at least Mia Hughes could experience a love affair memorable for a lifetime, which is rare.

Ethan Blackwood closed the car door and turned the steering wheel with his wristbanded hand, pressing the accelerator to speed up quickly.

He glanced at Claire Shaw from the corner of his eye; the young girl hugged a large cushion without a word, her expression unreadable.

Claire Shaw’s rental was on the top floor, with a small piece of land, perfect for planting her favorite flowers and plants.

Ethan Blackwood went back and forth moving her stuff, unlike Sean Jacobs who was exhausted after two trips.

Mia Hughes poked his head, saying repeatedly that he was unreliable, Sean Jacobs chuckled, "Didn’t you say Ethan was getting old last time? This gives him a chance to display his strength. I’ll just rest for a moment, just a moment."

The two played around outside while Claire Shaw tidied the bedroom.

Ethan Blackwood pushed open the door; this suite’s master bedroom was larger than Claire Shaw’s apartment, with a 1.8-meter double bed and half-drawn curtains.

It was twilight, and the room was dimly lit.

He immediately noticed the person bent over the bed folding clothes.

Claire Shaw was wearing a white chiffon blouse and light denim jeans, her hair braided into a ponytail hanging on her back. She bent slightly, patiently removing clothes from the bag and hanging them in the closet one by one.

This version of Claire Shaw, even without the sunlight’s tint, appeared exceptionally gentle, like a delicate petal quietly descending into Ethan Blackwood’s heart.

He didn’t want to disrupt this moment’s beauty, so he lowered his voice and asked, "Where should I put things?"

Claire Shaw was hanging clothes and turned to look at the person at the door; Ethan Blackwood had surprisingly brought in four woven bags.

Just now, Sean Jacobs was complaining each hand holding one bag was tiring, so Claire Shaw quickly put down the hanger to help, "Why did you bring so many at once?"

"It’s no big deal; is here okay?" Ethan Blackwood bypassed her body, preventing her from straining, and placed the items by the bed, probably bedding and such.

"It’s okay."

Claire Shaw glanced at the man; his black T-shirt was soaked with sweat. He lifted the hem to crudely wipe his face, revealing the solid abdominal muscles.

He seemed as if he’d just been pulled from the water; the thick arms bore the marks of the woven bags.

Coarse yet strong, not at all like a tycoon’s heir.

Claire Shaw’s gaze subtly drifted over his arm, "You should go out to have some water and rest for a bit; I’ll make the bed, and you guys can have dinner tonight."

"I’ll help you."

"No need, you—"

Ethan Blackwood already unzipped the bag without treating himself as an outsider, "Is it this one?"

Claire Shaw pressed down on his hand, her pale face calm, "Mr. Blackwood, you’ve overacted."

As their eyes met, Ethan Blackwood’s dark pupils reflected Claire Shaw’s delicate face, his stern expression exuded a strong sense of pressure for no apparent reason.

As Mia Hughes remarked about Claire Shaw, she seemed harmless and easygoing, yet was constantly vigilant, encasing herself in ice and shielding herself from anyone getting close.

Those tears on the rainy night were her rare vulnerability.

Now she had erected an icy wall, transforming into sharp spikes aimed at him.

Claire Shaw pronounced each word, "When you first visited my house, there was unnoticed sweat on your body. You wouldn’t drive a pickup truck to play basketball; if you sincerely wanted to assist me, wouldn’t calling for a couple of movers be quicker and more convenient?"

Ethan Blackwood seemed unperturbed by being exposed; he reversed his grasp on Claire Shaw’s slender wrist, studying her with interest, "So what?"

Claire Shaw gritted her teeth, "You refused my suggestion to become your lover, not because you had no designs on me, but because you aimed for my heart. Incidentally, I’m impervious to feigned hardship."

Ethan Blackwood slowly straightened up, his towering silhouette casting a vast shadow over Claire Shaw. Even without speaking, his formidable presence overwhelmed, almost making Claire Shaw unable to cope.

Claire Shaw attempted to withdraw her hand, but Ethan Blackwood advanced step by step, until trapping her against the closet with nowhere to retreat.

Ethan Blackwood raised her chin, forcing her to look at him.

"How could I possibly not have designs on you? I’m fixated on Ms. Shaw’s graceful body, which torments me day and night."

"But isn’t Ms. Shaw too tightly wound? Today, Sean Jacobs invited me over; yes, the truck is mine. I lent it to someone recently for camping. They returned the vehicle and left."

He took a step forward, inserting a leg between Claire Shaw’s, his upper body aggressively encroaching on her presence.

Ethan Blackwood was drenched in sweat—a humid heat permeated the air around them.

The dampened fabric steadily stained her chiffon blouse, like a demon ascending from the swamps attempting to drag down the immaculate angel, contaminating her and imbuing his colors.

His wet fingertips caressed Claire Shaw’s wrist, "Ms. Shaw’s wary demeanor, is she perhaps afraid to fall for me?"

Claire Shaw’s pupils slightly widened; this was a term Owen Crawford dared not broach.

"Mr. Blackwood, you’re overthinking; such as you, I wouldn’t desire even slightly..."

Before she finished, Ethan Blackwood kissed her directly, swallowing the words that followed.

"Ethan Blackwood, stop, stop..."

Danger flickered in the man’s eyes; his thumb fondled her soft red lips, a wicked smile playing at his lips, "Shh, call out quieter; others might overhear."