Chapter 290

Clara strolled into the lobby just as Eden was about to hop into the elevator. Eden was in a frantic rush to catch up with Dylan, her face all scrunched up with urgency. But as soon as her eyes landed on Clara, that urgency quickly twisted into a fiery anger.

"Clara! You witch!" she spat, raising her hand to slap Clara, but Clara was quicker, catching Eden's wrist mid-air.

The receptionists, noticing the drama unfolding, thought about stepping in. They were worried about Clara clashing with this high-profile guest, knowing well they'd be the ones in hot water with the manager later. But before they could act, Clara surprised everyone by delivering a slap to Eden herself.

Eden's head snapped to the side, her lips trembling. "How dare you hit me?" she stammered, disbelief coloring her voice.

Clara just chuckled, crossing her arms. "Oh, Ms. Eden, this isn't my first rodeo. Remember the time you ended up in the hospital because of me? You'd think you'd have learned to keep it down by now."

The receptionists were caught off guard, pausing in their tracks. They had initially worried about Clara but quickly realized she was a force to be reckoned with, even more so than Eden. It seemed like this socialite had finally met her match. Secretly, they couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction, almost hoping Clara would give Eden another taste of her medicine.

Releasing Eden's wrist, Clara took a step back. "Ms. Eden, you used to mock me for being a sycophant. Yet, you've been trailing after Dylan for years, and it seems he's still clueless about your feelings. Need me to give him a little nudge?"

Dylan only saw her as a junior, and she could only act playful with him under that guise. If her true

wouldn't dare!" Eden

will find out the not-so-innocent thoughts his 'dear junior' has been harboring. Tsk tsk." "Clara!" Eden's whole body shook with rage, but there was nothing she could do. Clara casually waved her off and made a beeline

make sure Clara never sets foot in New York

to her room to find Aiden waiting for

his way of saying she needed

his legs

time this was thrown in her face, Clara couldn't

a loosely tied

room's layout was different from hers, clearly spruced up and sanitized. Seeing his struggle, she quickly moved to support

asked, reminding herself of her promise to be at his service until his leg healed, even though she'd been

left a good chunk of his chest exposed, with the belt barely hanging on. Water dripped from his hair,

by the bed, Clara started massaging his calf. She was about to say something when a

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