Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 341

The arrogance and sheer contempt rolling off her were palpable.

Clara pressed her lips into a thin line...

The receptionist paused. "Oh, Ms. Vance."

Being highly skilled at reading the room, she instantly sensed Seraphina's disdain for Clara and dropped any pretense of politeness toward her.

After all, everyone in the business world knew Seraphina was Julian's beloved sister.

And who was Clara?

A nobody they had never even heard of.

"Ms. Vance, you can follow me," she said dismissively.

Immediately turning her attention back to Seraphina, the receptionist showered her with flattery as she guided her toward the elevators.

Clara stood in the back, watching them silently before following along.

...

Ninth floor, VIP lounge.

The receptionist catered to Seraphina's every whim, serving fresh fruit and pouring premium tea with obsequious care.

Clara received absolutely none of this VIP treatment.

Not that she cared.

She found a quiet seat, pulled her design portfolio from her bag, and reviewed it. After mentally rehearsing her pitch a few times, her illness flared up. She leaned her head back against the chair and closed her eyes.

Her head throbbed violently. The medicine was clearly wearing off, and her fever was spiking again. Her muscles screamed in agony.

Across the room, Seraphina offered the receptionist a few dismissive nods before her gaze shifted to Clara. Spotting the design portfolio resting on Clara's lap, Seraphina's eyes narrowed.

Feigning absolute sweetness, she said, "It looks like Ms. Vance isn't feeling well. Why don't you go grab her some hot coffee?"

"Huh?" The receptionist blinked, turning to look at Clara. She was indeed terribly pale and visibly unwell.

"Right away!"

The receptionist hurried to comply. Though she was a social climber, she knew perfectly well how to handle basic professional courtesy.

"Thank you. I appreciate it."

Seraphina smiled, though the warmth never reached her eyes. As the receptionist filled a mug with steaming coffee and walked toward Clara, Seraphina stood up and followed closely behind, all traces of her smile vanishing...

The receptionist approached Clara with the scalding mug. Freeing one hand, she gently tapped Clara's shoulder. "Ms. Vance, are you feeling sick? Do you need me to get you some medica—Ah!"

Before she could finish, someone sharply shoved her elbow. Losing her grip, the scalding coffee splashed directly onto the open portfolio on Clara's lap, soaking it instantly.

Clara let out a sharp gasp as the burning liquid seeped through her clothes. Her eyes snapped open, the searing pain instantly clearing the fog in her brain.

Ignoring the burn, she snatched up the ruined documents and frantically grabbed some napkins to dab the liquid away.

But it was too late. The ink on the pages had already bled into an illegible, smeared mess...

Clara's face went completely ashen. She froze, a violent surge of fury exploding in her chest.

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