Chapter 679

Walter stood with his hands clasped behind his back, a knowing look in his eyes.

"Wait until you're the one in charge."

Dylan's lashes flickered. He'd never really cared about that kind of power, but he pressed his lips together and nodded. "Yeah."

Clara, sitting beside him, suddenly leaned in. "Is it dangerous?"

Dylan's hand trembled ever so slightly on the armrest of his wheelchair. No matter what version of Clara he met, she was always the sharpest in the room.

He crooked his finger at her. "Come here."

She got up, moving to his side, worry written all over her face.

He reached out and patted her gently on the head. "Let's go."

Clara shot Walter a look, her eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Dylan took her hand, and as he turned the wheelchair around, he couldn't hold back a real smile curving at his lips. "Quit glaring. It's not dangerous."

She hesitated, then followed him. "Really?"

Downstairs, the rest of the family was waiting to talk to Dylan about the birthday party plans. The chef was busy clattering around in the kitchen, and everyone else sat in the living room, the mood tense-there was a lot to figure out.

folks not involved in the planning

and formal, she quickly tuned out. Her legs itched to move, so she headed for

barely listened to the others, either. He just

and slipped outside through the glass sliding door. Out here, the

herself gently. After a while, a plate of neatly sliced fruit appeared

looking away, her voice sweet and

her eyes shut, remembering what Dylan said-don't talk to

fool. She'd noticed something was off with Clara

flicker of mockery flashed in

That makes things easier. Before coming home, Tara had done her

are a

eyes, sizing up the woman in

was no trace

Tara could fool Mrs. Ferguson, tricking someone like this would

as Tara was about to say something else, the sliding

Dylan's voice was cold.

you

things light, but when she met his eyes, a chill

much, but his stare

even more protective

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