Falling into Her Trap: Don't Cross the Line, Mr. President-Chapter 42: I Want to Marry You

Owen Crawford said each word deliberately: "Two million! You’re letting over twenty million a year go just to paint this crap!"

With a loud crash, Owen Crawford directly flipped the painting Claire Shaw had brought to the ground.

Glass shards scattered everywhere, and a shard scratched a small cut on Claire Shaw’s arm.

Claire Shaw looked at Owen Crawford with a calm voice, "Mr. Crawford, earning money with my own skills is not disgraceful. Now you’re about to get engaged, being here is quite inappropriate."

Although Claire Shaw was half a head shorter than Owen, she stood straight, her gaze gentle yet not weak, which made Ian Rhodes see her in a new light.

"Owen, she’s not wrong. You two have broken up, so why continue to pester her? Painting is a legitimate profession, not..."

"Shut up." Owen Crawford shot a cold glance at the two people present, "Get out."

Charlotte Chapman looked at the mess of glass on the floor, evidently a bit worried. Claire Shaw smiled gently at her, "Senior, this is my personal matter, I can handle it."

The door closed. Owen Crawford sat down on the sofa, downing a glass of whiskey in one go. He had changed a lot compared to before.

With his elbow resting on his knee, he hunched his back and lowered his head, remaining silent.

After a while, she sighed softly and said, "Mr. Crawford, let’s part with grace."

Hearing this, Owen Crawford straightened up, and angrily threw the empty glass in his hand.

The glass shattered at Claire Shaw’s feet, and some liquid splashed onto her calf.

Owen Crawford’s eyes were bloodshot, "Six years, I spent six years on you, how the hell can you say it’s over just like that."

"Mr. Crawford, do I need to remind you of the reason we broke up?"

"I didn’t make a fuss over your infidelity, nor did I defend myself from being falsely accused by you. I’ve given you enough dignity, which is also an explanation for those three years."

Owen Crawford shouted in rage, "I gave you my heart and soul, but you were always cold as ice, even my cheating didn’t get a reaction from you. Is the love I gave you something you deserve? You don’t even have a heart."

Claire Shaw grabbed the strap of her crossbody bag, lowered her head, and absentmindedly kicked a piece of shattered glass with the toe of her shoe, calmly saying, "Owen Crawford, I actually considered marrying you."

The man was suddenly stunned.

"I was grateful you rescued me from peril in my darkest time and stayed by my side without abandoning me, so I cooked for you, and when I heard your mother’s knees hurt, I sought out a doctor for treatment."

"But you said the home-cooked dishes I made couldn’t be presented, and the ointment I carefully prepared was tossed directly into the trash by your family’s maid."

"I said as long as I loved you, it was enough, why must you be so insistent on trivial matters?"

Claire Shaw spoke only after he finished, "I never doubted your love for me, so I made the most daring decision of my life, to want to start a family with you."

She was willing to abandon the misfortunes of her original family and the painful past.

Claire Shaw thought about it. Owen Crawford took five years to make her not so averse to marriage.

Perhaps in another year or two, she might fall in love with him, who knows.

She shouldn’t impose the misfortunes of her parents onto Owen Crawford, it was unfair to him.

Life should have a chance to leap into the flames.

However, the only act of bravery resulted in a lifetime of introversion.

"On the Dragon Boat Festival a year ago, I overheard the conversation between you and your mother, you said you were just playing with me, the lady you wanted to marry was a rich heiress, not a poor person who couldn’t even afford a house in Meridia."

Claire Shaw looked up to meet Owen Crawford’s shocked pupil, then gently asked, "Did you say those words?"

Claire Shaw remembered that it rained heavily that day, she stood in the rain carrying the zongzi she had made by hand.

It turned out that, in Owen Crawford’s eyes, she was an inferior, unpresentable poor person.

After Owen Crawford left, it was only then that Mrs. Crawford invited her into the room.

Despite holding an umbrella, the heavy rain and strong wind had soaked her. Water droplets trickled slowly down her handbag, one after another, onto the carpet.

Mrs. Crawford wore a haute couture cheongsam and was adorned with a jade bracelet worth millions, her legs were placed neatly to one side, holding a cup of tea, the leisurely appearance formed a stark contrast to her messiness.

"You heard it all. I didn’t force my son, this is how he feels inside. Although he spent some time on you, you’re nothing more than a plaything, I hope you understand that."

Claire Shaw smiled gently, "Mrs. Crawford, I understand."

"You better. Like mother, like daughter. I can understand you ordinary people having the mindset to climb for money, but The Crawford Family isn’t a shortcut you can take."

That blatant humiliation was like a slap that hit Claire Shaw hard in the face, but Claire was no longer the helpless little girl.

She stood tall, a gentle smile tugging at the corners of her lips, "Mrs. Crawford, I can understand a mother’s concern for her son’s future. Since you’ve investigated my background, how could you not know about the process of your son pursuing me? From beginning to end, it was your son who chased after me."

Mrs. Crawford placed the teacup on the table beside her, "How dare you speak like that! Were you not taught any manners?"

This remark struck a deep hurt in Claire Shaw. As a child in kindergarten, someone had said she was raised by her mother but not taught by her.

Claire Shaw fought with the boy who was a head taller than her, fighting even if she couldn’t win.

Twenty years later, she habitually gathered all her emotions, smiling, "As for my mother and father’s matters, it takes two to tango. You’re a woman too, why use the greatest malice to attack someone else? Yes, I admit Owen Crawford has treated me well over the years. I considered marrying him, but hearing his response just now, rest assured, even if he begged me on his knees in the future, I would never marry him."

Claire Shaw put down the zongzi, "I made these by hand, Madam, feel free to try. It’s late, I won’t bother you any longer."

Throughout, she showed no hint of stage fright.

Even though the zongzi were thrown away in front of her, Claire Shaw held up her umbrella, stepped into the rain in her high heels, never looking back.

From that day on, Owen Crawford became a pawn she used to appease her mother. She no longer felt any guilt.

If it weren’t for Owen Crawford’s infidelity, she wouldn’t have stopped this relationship; playing along wasn’t difficult either.

Owen Crawford seemed a bit awkward, "I said that to brush off my mom, and you believed it? Don’t you know my feelings for you?"

"Whether it was a brush-off, only you know best. Mr. Crawford, until today I haven’t doubted your love for me, but I’m also very clear that this love can’t overcome class, nor can it replace interests. Perhaps you’ve long planned to marry someone from a matching family and keep me as your lover."