NovelTrueChapter 311
Clara was at a total loss, feeling a cold sweat break out on her forehead.
Dylan calmly pushed his glass aside, his voice cool and detached. "My father's probably going to want a word
with you soon."
Clara had sworn to Walter earlier that she had no intentions toward Dylan. But Walter wasn't one to buy excuses
easily. He definitely wouldn't believe her now.
She pressed her lips together, her mind racing for a way out. But it was clear there was no wiggle room here.
She had to cclean.
"Mr. Dylan, | was just trying to get you out of a sticky situation. It seemed like you didn't want to be there either."
"Did | ask for your help?" he replied, his tone steady and oddly calm.
Clara was momentarily speechless because, well, he hadn't asked for help. She'd
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just jumped in on her own. If Walter decided to act, she'd be toast.
After a beat, she asked, "So, what do | do now?"
Before she'd even finished speaking, Dylan was already maneuvering his wheelchair to leave.
Panicked, she quickly followed. "Mr. Dylan..."
He got into the elevator, and she had no choice but to join him. Once they
reached his suite, and the door closed behind them, they were alone.
He headed toward the bedroom, and Clara hurried to keep up. Dylan stopped and casually unbuttoned his shirt,
noticing her trailing after him, and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm changing."
Clara felt a real sense of urgency. She couldn't afford to be Walter's target now, or the Bradford family's company
would be in serious trouble.
"Mr. Dylan, you could useas a shield to fend off those unwanted dates in the future. You wouldn't just let a
handy tool likeslip away, right? Besides, when | said that earlier, you didn't stop me, which means you're
capable of handling the fallout."
She realized Dylan had quietly given his consent when she made that claim. She didn't know him well, but the
Dylan she'd met was at least polite and wouldn't just let her be taken down by Walter.
Dylan had already unbuttoned two buttons and tossed his tie onto the bed. He tilted his head slightly, his Adam's
apple moving a little. "What about your boyfriend?"
"I'll talk to him about it."
"Talk to him?" His tone had a mocking edge, like he was questioning which guy would be cool with that.
Clara wasn't sure herself. Z was unpredictable, like he'd do something drastic if he thought she'd betrayed him.
She was just trying to buy tand maybe get sinfo about that piece of land from Dylan.
Dylan had changed and wheeled over to her, a brief smile playing on his lips. "Alright."
Was that a yes? She let out a breath of relief, putting her hands on the back of his wheelchair and pushing him
out,
"So, about that piece of land, Mr. Dylan, could you share a little info?"
"No."
Clara froze, thinking she might've heard wrong. Dylan was already at the living room sofa, picking up a file and
diving into it. The sound of his pen scratching on paper filled the room. He kept his head down, like he'd
forgotten she was even there.
Clara stood still for a moment, remembering he hadn't eaten back at the restaurant. She quietly slipped out,
planning to bring back sfood. When asking for help, you've got to humble yourself; pride was useless right
now.
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