NovelOnlineChapter 162
Clara was genuinely wiped out. The alcohol had done a number on her, leaving her feeling drowsy and barely
able to catch what Megan was saying. The car pulled up in front of her place. Megan helped her out, and after
just a few steps, they spotted Simon waiting outside the complex.
There was a pile of cigarette butts at Simon's feet. He knew Megan, but they weren't exactly close. Megan
greeted him politely, "Mr. Simon."
Simon frowned at the sight of Clara, clearly drunk. "Is she drunk?"
"Yeah."
He quickly tossed his cigarette and moved towards them. "I'll take her inside. You can go now."
Megan hesitated for a moment but handed Clara over to him without protest. As she watched them walk away,
she snapped a picture and posted it online. [Destiny has a funny way of bringing the right people together.]
With that, she headed back to her car.
Simon got Clara to her door and was about to use her fingerprint to unlock it when he noticed her lips were red.
Clara felt like she'd been dropped on the ground, and wasn't quite aware until cold water was dumped over her
head.
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Simon stood there with an empty basin, looking stormy. Clara frowned, now fully awake, and took a deep breath.
"What's your problem?"
It finally hit her that she was home, sitting by the entrance. How on earth did Simon get in here? He dropped the
basin, leaned down, and grabbed her collar, pulling her up.
"What happened to your lips?" he demanded, his eyes dark and fiery.
Clara inhaled sharply, "Let go."
"I asked, what happened to your lips?!"
"Allergic reaction."
"Clara, I've known you for ages, and I've never heard of you having allergies. What are you allergic to?"
"Alcohol."
"Seriously?" Simon thought it was the most ridiculous thing. "Do you think I'm stupid? Alcohol allergy, really?"
Clara was genuinely puzzled. Was it so hard to believe she was allergic to alcohol? How else could she explain
the tingling sensation?
Simon let go abruptly, and she fell back onto the floor. Now she was really annoyed. She stood up, using the wall
for support, wiped her face, and pointed to the door. "Simon, get out. You're not welchere."
Simon stared at her red lips and eyes still hazy from the alcohol, then asked, "Who did you meet today?"
Clara rubbed her temples, tired of his interrogation. "That is none of your business. You're about to marry Quinn.
Isn't visiting your ex-fiancée a bit inappropriate?"
"Clara!!!" he shouted, not even sure why he was so angry. He didn't know if she'd been playing around or just
pretending now.
He'd never seen Clara like this before. He pressed his lips together and headed to the door. "Even if you don't tell
me, I'll find out. If you've been seeing someone behind my back, then it's not betrayal on my part. We'll settle
things then."
Clara was fed up and slammed the door shut. She headed straight to the bathroom, filled the tub, and began
undressing. In the mirror, she finally got a good look at her lips. They were red, with a slight prickly pain.
What was Simon so upset about? It was just an allergic reaction. She stripped down and noticed a red mark near
her thigh. She paused, eyebrows furrowing.
Clara had lost her memory and didn't remember much about her past. She had never experienced any romantic
encounters. Her fingers brushed the spot, and her cheeks flushed at the thought. It was too close to a private
area-what kind of mosquito could cause such a reaction?
With no tto dwell on it, she eased into the tub, soaking comfortably. Twenty minutes later, she dried off and
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmcollapsed into bed, Feeling relaxed and warm, she hoped for a good night's sleep.
Meanwhile, after leaving, Simon immediately began tracking Clara's movements that night. She'd left with Dylan
earlier. Could it be...
The idea was wild, but he had to consider it. He found out Dylan had a business meeting at a hotel that evening
and rushed over to get the security footage. He needed to know what happened to Clara's lips.
Had they had a secret affair all along? What did that make him? His chest was tight with fury, and he was
desperate to get to the hotel.
When he got to the surveillance room, he discovered that due to a staff oversight, two hours of footage were
missing. The hotel manager was profusely apologetic.
"Sorry, Mr. Ferguson. One of our staff fell asleep and accidentally turned off the surveillance for those two hours."
Simon's face darkened as he slammed his fist onto a nearby table. This hotel was part of Ferguson Corporation, a
top-tier place in the Capital. All the staff were supposed to be highly trained, and yet someone fell asleep?
"Fire them!"
He pulled at his tie, trying to quell the fiery frustration. The manager, sweating bullets, bowed apologetically.
"The employee was planning to quit anyway. He just won the lottery, and decided to leave."
Simon took a deep breath, feeling like he'd punched a cloud. He was left with nothing but simmering frustration.
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