Let Me Go, My Mafia Husband

Chapter 274 Unknown Feeling

The jet took off, and after a while, the air hostess came by, serving the meal. "What would you prefer for meal, Mr. Whitmore?" she asked, her voice sensual and slow.

Claire lifted her eyes from her book and noticed the air hostess trying a little too hard to be seductive. She had unbuttoned a few more buttons of her blouse than necessary, revealing her round bosom, and her skirt was riding unnecessarily high, exposing more of her thighs. The woman's eyes were fixed on Adam, clearly admiring him.

Claire rolled her eyes. She had seen women trying to get Adam's attention before, and she knew that if he even smiled at them once, it would be their most cherished moment. But to the air hostess's disappointment, Adam didn't even glance at her. He kept reading his iPad, replying in his usual cold tone, "Ask my wife. I'll eat whatever she orders."

Claire's breath caught in her throat as she looked at the superstar, her eyes wide with shock. When did this miracle happen?

The air hostess seemed taken aback for a moment, before quickly masking her surprise. She turned to Claire and asked sternly, "What would you like to order?"

"Mrs. Whitmore!" Adam snapped, his voice carrying a deadly intensity that made the air hostess flinch.

"She is Mrs. Whitmore to you? Address her properly," Adam looked up from his iPad, his glare aimed at the air hostess, his eyes sharp and piercing.

The air hostess swallowed hard, murmuring, "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore."Owned by NôvelDrama.Org.

Adam nodded, dismissing her as he returned his attention to his iPad.

Claire felt a twinge of sympathy for the air hostess, but she knew how moody her superstar husband could be. It wasn't easy being on the receiving end of his sharp tone.

"What would you like to order, Mrs. Whitmore?" This time, the air hostess's voice was exceptionally sweet and respectful.

Claire knew what Adam preferred for his meals, so she ordered a low-carb, protein-rich meal for him and a sandwich for herself, as she wasn't feeling too hungry but needed to munch on something. "Would you like some wine as well?" the hostess asked politely.

"Yes, please," Claire replied, then returned to the page she had been reading.

She stole a quick glance at her husband and found that he was indifferent to what was happening around him, or perhaps he was just too engrossed in the script he was reading to notice.

Lunch was brought by the air hostess and neatly served on the dining table in the private jet. After setting everything up, she came to call Adam and Claire.

"Mr. and Mrs. Whitmore, I've set the table," the air hostess said politely.

Claire waited for Adam to respond, but when he remained silent, she sighed and turned to the air hostess. "Thank you. We'll be there shortly," she replied with a polite nod.

Adam finally put his iPad aside and stood up, extending his hand toward Claire. She was stunned for a moment but brushed it off, assuming it was still part of his public display to keep up the appearance of a happy couple. Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, letting him lead her to the table.

To her surprise, he pulled out a chair for her and waited for her to sit before taking his own seat. Claire picked up her sandwich and began eating quietly, unsure of what to make of his behavior.

As she focused on her meal, Adam unexpectedly took some of the food from his plate and placed it on hers. She blinked in surprise, looking up at him, but his face gave away nothing as he casually began eating his own meal.

"No, I only want the sandwich. This food is for you," Claire said, shaking her head slightly.

"Eat," Adam ordered firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. "You're already underweight and need to eat more from now on," he mumbled, scooping a spoonful of food and lifting it toward her mouth.

Claire was stunned and tried to

protest, but before she could form a

coherent response, Adam gently but insistently pushed the spoonful of food into her mouth. Her eyes widened in shock as she chewed, processing both the food and the bizarre shift in his behavior. She couldn't help but wonder if Adam Whitmore had hit his head somewhere to be acting so strangely around her.

After lunch, Claire stood up to return to her seat, but Adam caught her hand, stopping her mid-step. Without a word, he led her to his seat-the spacious, well-equipped spot he usually preferred. Sensing that it might be necessary to sit together to avoid rumors or gossip, she murmured, "I'll just bring my book from my seat."

"The book will be brought," Adam replied curtly, refusing to let her go. "You sit here," he insisted.

True to his word, the air hostess appeared moments later, carrying Claire's book. She handed it to her with a polite smile before retreating. Claire settled into the window seat, expecting Adam to sit across from her. To her surprise, he sat right beside her, his presence close, almost protective, as if he wasn't willing to leave her side.

Claire didn't realize when she drifted off while reading her book. Her peaceful sleep was gently interrupted when Adam softly caressed her arm and face, his voice low as he woke her. "The jet has landed, wifey, and wake up," he said gently.

Blinking awake, Claire noticed a comforter draped over her. Surprised, she glanced at Adam, who was busy gathering her belongings. She yawned, pushing the comforter aside, and unfastened her seatbelt.

"I can take it," she offered, reaching for her things, but Adam didn't let her. Instead, he ignored her attempt, taking her hand and leading her to the jet's exit. His grip was firm yet gentle, and his bodyguards quickly rose from their seats to handle his belongings. Adam, however, kept hold of Claire's hand, focusing solely on her.

Carefully, he guided her down the ladder steps. The cool night air hit them as they stepped outside, making Claire shiver as the chill seeped into her skin. The sun had long set, and the first stars began to appear in the darkening sky.

As they stepped onto the tarmac, Adam took the jacket he was holding over his arm and draped it over her shoulders. Claire instinctively pulled it tighter around herself, grateful for the warmth it provided.

When they finally stepped out of the

airport, the paparazzi swarmed

around, cameras flashing

incessantly, all vying to capture a glimpse of Adam Whitmore. But he didn't stop. Wrapping his arm around Claire, he shielded her from the unnecessary attention of the paparazzi, continuing to guide her directly to the car. He opened the door for her and helped her inside, then stood outside himself, placing his hands on the car frame. He looked at her with an unknown emotion flashing in his eyes.

"Babe, I'm heading straight to the shoot location in another car," he whispered softly, his voice sincere. "I'll try to come home soon, but don't stay up late, okay?"

Before she could respond, he leaned in, gently cupping her face in his hands. His lips crashed onto hers with urgency, parting her lips with his as he kissed her deeply and longer than usual. Claire froze, unsure how to feel. It didn't seem like a public display for the

paparazzi. However... it felt real.