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Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 77
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Chapter 77

Clara strolled over slowly, keeping her cool. "Jade, | don't start trouble unless it findsfirst. When you sent

Casey after me, you should've known this day would come. You say you won't letoff? Well, you'd need the

energy for that. After this, what company would hire you? You've got a lot of loans, right?"

Jade's face went pale. In her quest to snag a wealthy guy, she'd splurged on a car worth a fortune. Now, with a

monthly loan of four grand hanging over her, she couldn't even begin to fathom life without a job.

"Clara, I'll kill you!" she yelled, lunging at Clara in a fit of rage.

Clara simply raised her hand and delivered a quick slap. Jade stood there, stunned, holding her cheek, disbelief

all over her face. Did Clara strike her? Really?

Clara rubbed her wrist, her expression steady. "If you still don't see your faults, | won't waste my breath. Look

after yourself."

"Clara! Clara!" Jade's eyes were red, her whole body shaking with anger. The rest of the department, having

witnessed Clara's decisive action, all lowered their heads, pretending to be busy. They'd always thought Clara

was just a pretty face. But the aura she exuded just now was so powerful, and she had directly ousted Jade,

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ending her career. This girl was not to be messed with.

Previously, they gossiped about her in private. But after today, no one would speak ill of her again. Clara was

quite pleased with the current atmosphere. Since these people didn't like her, she didn't feel the need to force

herself into their circles. Peaceful coexistence was just fine.

Jade's departure was swift, and with the manager position vacant, the department buzzed with anticipation.

Clara herself had no designs on the position, having only joined the company two weeks ago. However, Simon

seemed intent on antagonizing her and appointed her as manager the very next day.

A newbie taking on such a role with just a couple of weeks under her belt? It was

a hot potato, bound to stir up resentment. Clara had planned to confront Simon as soon as she got to the office,

but he was absent that day. The rest of the department was disgruntled about her promotion, but no one dared

voice their complaints, as they were aware of Clara's influential connections.

Taking a deep breath, Clara removed Simon from her blacklist and dialed his number. "Where are you?"

Simon had deliberately orchestrated Clara's promotion, eager to see her face the department's wrath. When

Clara reached out to him, a smirk played on his lips. "Well, well, if it isn't Clara. I'm surprised to be off your

blacklist. What a rare occurrence."

Clara felt a wave of frustration. "Simon, do you find this amusing?"

"Absolutely, especially seeing you swallow your pride to contact me—it's delightful."

Clara was already annoyed by him and now found him utterly repulsive. She hung up and went straight to the

executive suite, only to find Dylan in a meeting. Fortunately, Aiden didn't seem as hostile this time, allowing her

to wait in the office. She waited a full two hours before Dylan appeared.

Dylan seemed to anticipate her purpose and, before she could speak, maneuvered his wheelchair past her. "You

can join the executive department."

There were roles available she could fulfill, but she'd previously avoided them because she was intimidated by

Dylan. Now that he mentioned it, she went along with it. "Thank you, Mr. Dylan."

She felt her gratitude lacked sincerity, so she added, "How about | treat you to dinner?"

No sooner had she spoken than she regretted it, feeling their dynamic was somewhat awkward. Dylan, now

behind his desk, replied coolly. "I don't care for dining out."

Clara instinctively offered, "Then cto my place. My cooking's not bad."

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Dylan paused, looking up at her. His gaze was inscrutable, but Clara felt heat creeping up her skin as if she

harbored ulterior motives. "I just..."

She had spoken too quickly. Her cooking was genuinely good, but would someone like Dylan really cto an

employee's home? Before she could backpedal, he asked, "Do you have a menu?"

Was he saying yes?

"Yes! Is there anything you don't eat, Mr. Dylan?"

"No strong flavors."

That meant no cilantro or onions, presumably. Relieved, Clara continued, "When are you available?"

"Tonight."

Tonight? That was soon! Clara's mind raced with menu ideas. Back at her desk, she was preoccupied, but her

transfer notice lifted her spirits. Finally, she could rid herself of Simon, and that was a cause for celebration. She

listed several simple dishes with mild flavors and sent them to Dylan.

Dylan: [Noted.]

Clara suddenly thought Dylan had a hint of a prideful streak.