PopularNovelChapter 175
Quinn's hand was clenched so tightly by her side that it nearly drew blood, while a forced smile played on her
lips. "No, it's all good. | really should apologize to you, Clara, for what happened."
Clara checked her handbag and had to admit, her brother had a bit of taste. At least this bag was something she
could carry with style. It was understated and elegant.
She reached out and ruffled Ryan's hair. "Thanks."
Ryan felt a bit sheepish, remembering how he had nudged Clara to fess up during the last incident. He felt guilty
about it, but when he noticed Clara looked unbothered now, he let out a sigh of relief.
Quinn slowly entered the room. Her tone was still gentle, which took Clara by surprise. Clara thought her
younger sister's tactics always seemed amateurish, so how was she keeping her cool tonight?
"Clara, I'm going for a wedding dress fitting tomorrow. If you're free, you can tag along."
"I'm busy. Got work."
Quinn felt a tad better, thinking Clara must've been crushed to watch the man she loved get ready to marry
someone else. Surely, Clara would be drowning her sorrows tonight.
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‘Clara's calm demeanor is just a fagade,' thought Quinn.
"Simon wantedto tell you that the past is behind us, and he hopes you can let it go."
Clara chuckled, looking up at her. "I do hope he means it, but it seems I'm the one who's moved on, while he
hasn't. He was trailing afterall day today-it was hard to shake him off. Shouldn't you, as his future wife, have
a word with him?"
Quinn's face turned ghostly pale, and she nearly lost her balance. She had intended to provoke Clara, but now
the tables had turned.
The atmosphere grew tense.
Clara just calmly turned around. "If you both have nothing else to say, please leave. | need to get my things
together."
Ryan quickly grabbed Quinn's hand and led her out, worried another argument might flare up.
Clara shut the door and scanned the room. The setup was simple; the drawers and everything were in plain
sight.
She opened the wardrobe and discovered a small, locked drawer in a hidden spot. Following her instincts, she
rummaged through the coats hanging there and found the key.
To resolve her current predicament, she needed to understand her past self a bit more, or she would have no
clues to go on.
She unlocked the small drawer, but there wasn't much useful information inside, just a thin notebook with a
single line scribbled on it:
-Don't trust Dylan.
Her grip on the notebook tightened, and her breath becshallow. Had she really written this?
She flipped through the notebook, hoping for more clues, but the rest was blank.
She continued searching through the room, but there was so little in it that it felt as though she hadn't really
considered this place her home.
Rubbing her temples, she realized she had found nothing besides the thin notebook.
She slipped the notebook into her bag and opened the door to leave, only to hear raised voices from downstairs.
"What's with this guy? Didn't we give him enough money already? Why can't he just leave us alone! Sometimes
you've got to take more drastic measures."
Naomi was speaking. She was clearly exasperated and even asked if they could find a reliable hitman.
Then cQuinn's sobs, pleading not to call the police, begging not to let anyone know about this.
Clara descended the stairs slowly, surprised to find four people in the living room looking troubled. "What
happened?"
Quinn's sobs paused, her eyes red. "It's nothing. Just scrazy relatives from my adoptive parents’ side found
out I'm getting married and are causing trouble again. They've been asking Mom for money over the years, and
she always gave them. Now they want even more-thirty million.”
Clara wasn't familiar with Quinn's adoptive family and wasn't interested in this issue. She was ready to leave.
As soon as she opened the living room door, she heard a man's angry shouting from outside. “Con! | told
you, I've already called the cops. If you don't wantdead on your doorstep, stay away from me!"
The man held a kitchen knife to his throat, his eyes wild. At the sight of Quinn, a gleam of joy crossed his face.
"Quinn, I'm finally seeing you. Please, just givesmore money. Thirty million isn't much. This is my last
bet. If you don't give it to me, I'll post all those photos of you getting beaten up online. It doesn't matter if you're
a rich girl now; people will know your embarrassing past, and they'll look down on you. Hahaha."
Quinn broke down, immediately dropping to her knees. "Please, don't do this. Haven't you taken enough over the
years?!"
The man's neck was craned and his face was twisted. He had clearly lost his mind. “Haha, not enough! Thirty
million is nothing to you guys. If it's not transferred to my account in three minutes, I'll post the photos right
away."
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