Clara got out of the car while Jones escorted her in. Dylan sat on the couch majestically with a cigarette in between his fingers. He was exuding a chilly aura. No, chilly is an understatement, a dangerous aura rather. He looked like the demon king ready to devour her.
Clara stood before him shaking like a jellyfish. No one needed to tell her, she was doomed. She might be lucky if Dylan didn't kill her. Dylan kept his gaze on the cigarette and watched it burn. His silence alone made Clara anxious. Dylan suddenly throws the cigarette into the ashtray, making Clara's body cringe in fear. He directed his gaze at her and chuckled. To him, he chuckled, but to everyone in the room, he sounded like a grim reaper ready to seize life. Clara broke into a cold sweat instantly. She wanted to say a wo
