PopularNovelChapter 183
She was so caught up in it all that she nodded off without even realizing it.
Meanwhile, downstairs, Simon had decided to stick around for dinner. The chef was still hustling in the kitchen,
and Naomi eagerly pulled Quinn aside, asking if she was happy with the wedding dress they picked out today.
Quinn didn't look too thrilled and forced a response. "It was alright, Mom. I'm not feeling too great. | think I'll
head upstairs to rest. Callwhen dinner's ready, would you?"
"Sure thing, honey. You look a bit under the weather."
Quinn got up and made her way upstairs. Once back in her room, she started pacing. Simon's earlier attitude
toward Clara in the car really got under her skin. Her face twisted in frustration. She couldn't put it off any
longer; she needed to act
now.
Grabbing her phone, she made another call. "Tomorrow, I'll have Ryan take Clara out. I've arranged for someone
to kidnap her. I'll make the first move, and if Clara's luck holds, it'll be your turn next. One of us has got to
succeed eventually."
The voice on the other end just gave a simple, "Hmm."
When dinner rolled around, someone went to fetch Clara, but she stayed knocked out in her room.
In the meantime, her phone buzzed with a call. As soon as she answered, Calix's voice cthrough. "Clara,
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtHugh's mom just showed up here, acting all crazy."
Clara snapped awake, her eyes sharp and alert.
If June was really acting erratic, how did she manage to find the hospital so fast?
"Mr. Calix, could you please keep her there for now? I'll swing by in a couple of days."
Since it wasn't clear if June was genuinely unstable, Clara figured she'd let her stew for a bit-impatience tends to
unravel the truth.
Elsewhere, Dylan was tapping away on his computer. He glanced out at the darkening sky, waiting for something
he couldn't quite name.
Aiden knocked and walked in, placing a few sleeping pills next to him. "Boss, maybe give these a shot?"
Dylan lowered his gaze, his typing slowing.
Aiden took a breath. "I tried calling Clara, but she didn't pick up. Heard she's back at the Bradford place with
Simon."
Dylan ignored the pills. He hadn't slept in two days and had deep shadows under his eyes.
He continued studying the data on his screen, then asked, "What do you think she'll choose this time?"
Aiden didn't quite grasp the question; Dylan often spoke in riddles. "Not sure. Clara's always been pretty
headstrong."
Dylan suddenly smirked, but it didn't reach his eyes. "She's not headstrong; it's her icy indifference to those she
doesn't care about."
She was indifferent enough to make promises easily, then smile as she twisted the knife in your heart.
Indifferent enough to say she'd try, then completely forget.
Clara was just that way and treated him like a plaything.
He pinched a few sleeping pills, and they crumbled in his palm.
Exhausted, yet sleepless, Dylan headed to his bedroom and flopped onto the sofa. She'd lain there a few times;
it still carried a hint of her scent.
Staring at the ceiling, he recalled Clara's words from earlier. Maybe she'd always noticed someone else's crush
on her but wasn't interested enough to call it out. It was brutally honest. Even without her past memories, she
saw things so clearly. The scent on the sofa was faint. He tried to capture it but found little.
He turned over, pulled out the towel she'd used, and draped it over himself. The sharp ache in his chest eased a
bit.
His phone buzzed with a familiar notification sound. He glanced at it; it was a message from her.
Clara: [Mr. Dylan, | just remembered something. Am | about to get a pink slip? Did Eden ratout?]
Clara felt uneasy after sending it. Simply tossing the documents in Eden's face seemed too mild. However, Eden
had Dylan backing her.
Ten minutes went by with no reply from Dylan.
Clara sat up in bed. She wasn't ready to leave Ferguson Corporation, but if Dylan
wanted her gone, there wasn't much she could do.
After another ten minutes, she sent another message.
Clara: [Mr. Dylan?]
Dylan: [Hmm.]
His reply was quick but brief, just a single word. Clara often found it hard to read
Dylan. He was so tight-lipped.
Clara: [Mr. Dylan, are you resting? Am | bugging you?]
Dylan: [Do you have anything else to say?]
Dylan's messages calmost at the stshe sent out hers.
Her heart sank, feeling like she was being brushed off. Of course, Dylan always
had Eden's back. She took a deep breath.
Clara: [No, that's all.]
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