NovelEnglishChapter 452
Clara kept her eyes on her dinner, her fork moving mechanically as her mind raced. What would she do if
Richard decided to stir up trouble? Richard had a reputation for being ruthless, and once he got serious, no one
could stand against him.
Despite the whirlwind in her head, she didn't forget to pour Dylan a cup of coffee. "I'm not nervous," she said.
"I'm just focused on figuring out how to properly apologize to Mr. Dylan."
"You've always been a good liar," Dylan replied, the words hanging in the air.
The soft gurgle of coffee filling the cup was the only sound. Clara noted his use of "always," a clear sign she'd
lost her credibility with him. She carefully placed the coffee pot down, resting her hands in her lap with a serious
expression.
"Mr. Dylan, I'm genuinely apologizing today. The gala incident really hurt your reputation. As for breaking up with
my boyfriend-well, that's off the table. But anything else, just nit."
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"Clara." His voice was light, yet carried a warning.
The way he suddenly used her first nfelt like being called out by a teacher in class. She straightened up
instinctively.
Dylan looked at the clear coffee in his cup, then met her earnest gaze. "Like | said before, don't make promises
you can't keep."
"I can handle it," she insisted.
His fingers traced the rim of the cup. After a long pause, he wiped away a stray drop of coffee and said two
simple words: "Kiss me."
Clara, who had been sitting upright, was taken aback. Had she misheard? In her panic, she accidentally knocked
over the coffee pot. She quickly stood, grabbing a napkin to clean up the spill, and shot Dylan an apologetic
smile.
"Mr. Dylan, what did you say?" Her face clearly showed disbelief.
Dylan met her eyes directly. "Kiss me. Didn't you claim you could do anything?"
A shiver ran down Clara's spine. She stood there, gripping the back of her chair so hard her knuckles turned
white.
"Kiss... you?” she echoed, wondering if Dylan had been replaced by someone else.
Was this something he'd actually say? Surely, he was still upset and trying to teach her a lesson-that she
couldn't do everything she boasted about.
Clara's face flushed, but she composed herself after a moment. If a kiss could fix her mistake at the gala, it
seemed like a fair trade. But was Dylan serious, or was he just messing with her?
Would he recoil in disgust if she went for it, only to mock her further? Dylan's eyelashes lowered, his fingers still
tracing the cup's edge.
Taking a deep breath, Clara leaned in cautiously, just a few inches. He didn't pull away. She glanced at him
quickly, sensing no disgust, and swiftly pressed a kiss to his cheek before retreating. It was over in a flash.
Dylan chuckled, "Did | say it was a cheek kiss?"
Clara paused, halfway to grabbing a napkin. Was this his way of punishing her, using his authority to make a
point?
If he was bothered by a cheek kiss, was he implying she should kiss him on the lips as part of this lesson? She
stood there awkwardly, finally speaking up.
"Mr. Dylan, I'm sorry. You're right, | shouldn't make promises | can't keep. How about you givea few options,
and I'll see what | can do?"
Dylan's smile faded, leaving a trace of disappointment in the air.
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