NovelOnlineChapter 159
The subtle tension lingered all the way to the hotel. As Clara stepped out of the car, she quickly moved to assist
with the wheelchair, only to run into Johnny at the hotel entrance.
Johnny was there for a business meeting too. When he saw her, he stopped in his tracks and called out, "Clara?"
Clara frowned, wondering how she kept bumping into members of the Bradford family no matter where she
went. She wasn't keen on chatting, but Johnny approached her anyway.
Despite his age, Johnny held himself well in front of Dylan, though he was overly polite. "Mr. Dylan, long tno
see."
Dylan gave him a brief look and acknowledged him with a simple "Hmm."
Johnny patted Clara's arm, speaking in a reassuring tone. "Knowing Clara is working at Ferguson Corporation
givespeace of mind. Mr. Dylan, you're a man of integrity, who doesn't judge people by their past; everything
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtis based on merit. Clara will definitely make great progress under your guidance. Thank you in advance."
Clara wasn't naive; it felt like Johnny was subtly reminding Dylan to let bygones be bygones and not to dwell on
past grievances. It was undoubtedly about the incident with Dylan's leg. Clara felt a twinge of awkwardness.
Everyone seemed to hint that Dylan's condition was somehow her fault.
Johnny chuckled and continued, "I won't keep you from your meeting, Mr. Dylan." He then patted Clara's
shoulder again. "Work hard with Mr. Dylan. Once you mature a bit more, I'll feel more comfortable involving you
in the company's decisions. Clara, it's tyou grew up."
Clara didn't have much affection for her father. Since she had regained consciousness, he was mostly silent or
criticizing her alongside Naomi. He often watched her with those pained, disappointed eyes.
Clara was puzzled. From a parent's perspective, she could understand Johnny's attitude if she had really been so
troublesbefore. Unfortunately, she had no memory of any of it, leaving her feeling momentarily stifled.
She continued to follow behind Dylan, desperately wanting to ask about his leg, but couldn't bring herself to do
it. They reached the private room door, where their business partners were already waiting. Coincidentally, one
of them recognized Clara. He furrowed his brows briefly but tactfully said nothing, simply shaking hands with
Dylan. "It's been two years, Mr. Dylan."
Dylan had such a commanding presence that even seated in a wheelchair, everyone instinctively showed him
respect. He nodded, adjusted his wheelchair, and the meeting officially kicked off.
The business partner, a rotund middle-aged man in a suit, frequently glanced at Clara as the drinks flowed. Clara
felt uneasy, and before she could say anything, the man spoke up. "Miss Clara seems much quieter this time."
A look of confusion crossed her face, and then he added, "I had the pleasure of seeing you once, about six years
ago, at this very hotel with Mr. Dylan. You seemed quite displeased and, if | recall correctly, slapped Mr. Dylan
right across the face."
Clara was sipping her tea when she heard this, causing her to spit it out in shock. She looked at the man in
disbelief. "What?"
A hand calmly offered her a napkin, which she instinctively took to wipe her
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm
mouth. Then, still shaken, she replied, "You must be mistaken."
Seeing her genuine shock and confusion, the business partner quickly
backtracked. "My apologies, haha, | must have remembered wrong. No one would dare slap someone like Mr.
Dylan."
Clara's heart was racing. She had lost her memory and truly had no recollection of such events. She turned to
look at Dylan, but he remained calm, his eyes lowered, deep in thought.
Clara's heart skipped a beat, and she immediately countered. "That definitely wasn't me. | couldn't do something
like that. Really, | couldn't. Let's not joke about it. | work for Mr. Dylan now."
The business partner's slip was only due to the alcohol, so he quickly shifted the conversation to other topics,
and the atmosphere lightened up once more. But the quieter Dylan became, the more anxious Clara felt. She
tried hard to recall anything from her past, but her amnesia seemed quite permanent.
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