Chapter 88: Born Tough

"Oh no!" She exclaimed softly, slightly annoyed, "I forgot my phone. I need to go back and get it." William Foster saw her turning to leave and quickly spoke: "Let Arthur Davis get it for you. It’s not convenient for you right now." Clara Bennett glanced at the small steps in front of the car and shook her head, speaking gently but with undeniable certainty: "Your leg isn’t well; you shouldn’t move around. Besides, it’s more fitting for Arthur to stay with you. I’ll be right back." After she finished speaking, she didn’t linger any longer, quickly turning and leaving with a light step, running back into the building. However, when she came down again, she unexpectedly ran into a familiar face. This scene seemed to confirm an old saying—there’s always truth in proverbs, and "a narrow road brings enemies together" is indeed the case. The moment Clara’s gaze swept over, her whole demeanor subtly changed. Indeed, standing before her was Samuel Grant and Daisy Stone! Their appearance was like a stone thrown into a lake, stirring ripples upon ripples. The moment Samuel Grant saw her, his expression immediately froze. His mouth opened for quite a while, yet he couldn’t utter a single word. At this moment, Clara had already taken off the wedding dress and changed back into her usual attire, wearing a white bodycon dress that perfectly outlined her slender, well-proportioned figure. Her long black silky hair naturally draped over her shoulders, complementing her exquisite features, and her confident allure in every gesture was truly admirable. No matter where she stood, she seemed to be the most dazzling presence in the crowd, radiating light, making it impossible to look away. In contrast, Daisy Stone appeared much more diminished. Although she had just recovered from illness or injury, her face still looked pale and weak, with visible fatigue and fragility in her eyes. The flamboyant spirit she once had was now replaced by a sickly haggardness. Seeing such a comparison, mixed feelings swirled in Samuel Grant’s heart. The incident from the last time at the hotel suddenly resurfaced in his mind, causing him to stiffen as if struck by lightning. In the next second, he instinctively withdrew the arm Daisy had been holding, the movement so swift he couldn’t control it himself. And this subtle change, of course, didn’t escape the sharp eyes of Clara Bennett. Her eyebrows slightly raised, as a meaningful smile appeared at the corners of her lips: "Oh, isn’t this a coincidence? Never thought I’d run into the two of you here." Samuel Grant’s face instantly turned extremely awkward. Forcing out a slight smile, his expression was uglier than crying: "Yes... I really didn’t expect to meet you here." When he said this, his voice even started to tremble a little. Clara let out a cold laugh, her gaze piercing like a knife at the two of them: "To be honest, neither did I." The casual remark was filled with sarcasm. Their former relationship, once fractured by some irreconcilable conflicts, had once plunged to freezing point. However, fate always plays its tricks, and now in such an unexpected setting, they happened to meet each other unpreparedly. Despite the turbulence inside, they had to maintain an outward appearance of calmness, as if nothing had happened, which made the atmosphere around them unbearably strange, as if the air was filled with an unseen, suffocating pressure. Samuel Grant stood there, his hands slightly stiff beside him, clearly trying hard to conceal his inner embarrassment and unease. To break this utterly awkward silence, he braced himself to squeeze out a smile, using a slightly forced tone to find a topic: "Have you been doing well lately? Getting along well with Uncle?" His voice was anything but natural, even carrying a hint of probing, seemingly trying to find some clue from her response while hoping to divert his attention to ease the discomfort brought by meeting old acquaintances. "Not bad." Clara raised her lips in a faint smile. Though her words were few, they were filled with meaning, making it impossible to determine whether she truly was doing well or just offering a polite reply. Immediately afterward, Clara intentionally tilted her head, casting her gaze at Samuel Grant, maintaining that meaningful smile at the corner of her lips, and then continued lightly: "How about you? Solved your financial issues? William told me you still owe money; you’d better hurry and pay up." Her every word was like a precisely aimed arrow, piercing straight into the places Samuel least wanted anyone to mention, and the feigned care only added to the sting. Hearing such words, Samuel Grant’s face, already unpleasant, turned even darker, almost capable of dripping ink. His hand clenched tightly into a fist, knuckles whitening from exertion, yet he still managed to control his emotions from erupting on the spot. After biting his teeth, he responded in a restrained voice, forcing down his anger: "Don’t worry, don’t let Uncle worry, the funds will be in place soon." The determination in his words could not hide the underlying embarrassment and helplessness. As for Clara’s behavior, it was completely targeted, precisely picking at Samuel’s wounds with no mercy, solely to make him even more humiliated. Just as the two were locked in a stalemate, Clara suddenly raised her eyebrows, showcasing a look of interest. This time, surprisingly, she refrained from pressing further on Samuel’s topic; instead, she shifted her focus towards Daisy Stone, who had quietly stood by yet never found an escape. Noticing Daisy’s slightly bulging abdomen, she curved her lips in a smile, her eyes flickering with complex emotions. There was indifference, provocation, and a hint of secret pride. "Oh," she deliberately elongated her tone, "Congratulations on your discharge, Miss Stone! Look at your belly; the child seems pretty sturdy. Could it be that a mistress’s child is naturally tough? Survived after being stabbed by their own mother; perhaps they’ll prosper in the future." The words on the surface seemed like congratulations, but in reality, they were sharp sarcasm. Especially since everyone present was aware of the backstory, each of Clara’s words and sentences was like a sharp blade, mercilessly slicing through the veneer of hypocrisy, directly touching the most sensitive core. Although, in truth, Clara and Daisy had a certain level of covert collaboration, outwardly, when facing an outsider like Samuel, they still had to maintain an antagonistic front to optimally protect the plan itself, preventing any revelation of clues. Therefore, no matter how piercing the words were, they were a necessary part of the play. Faced with such unexpected ridicule, Daisy indeed couldn’t hold back her inner fury, raising her head with a livid face to glare at Clara, her chest heaving violently, fists tightly clenched, with almost flaming eyes ready to explode.