Fake Date, Real Fate Chapter 137: Peace Offering

ISABELLA’S POV

By the ti I made it back to the executive suite, my pulse had settled into sothing less than cardiac arrest, though the blush in my cheeks still hadn’t fully faded. I took a deep breath before pushing the door open, willing my face into sothing neutral—sothing professional.

Clara was already at the desk, her posture perfect, fingers flying over her pristine laptop like she hadn’t just walked in on very much on Adrien Walton’s lap.

As I slid into my chair, I expected silence. Maybe a cold shoulder. Maybe... judgnt.

Instead, she smiled.

Not the tight, brittle smile from before. This one was soft. Warm, even.

"There you are," she said lightly. "Feeling better?"

I blinked. "Oh. Yeah. Thanks."

"No worries at all." She smiled, a touch of understanding in her eyes. "I hope I didn’t startle you earlier."

I shook my head. "You didn’t. Sorry you had to walk in on that. I just—uh, wasn’t expecting company."

Oh God. Death, take now.

Her laughter was light and a little musical. "Trust , neither was I. Walking in on Adrien like that... whew. Seventeen years of knowing him, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look so... involved."

I felt my ears warm again, but this ti her tone was playful, not accusatory.

Clara leaned back slightly in her chair, tapping her pen against her perfectly manicured nails. "You know, since you’re his girlfriend and I’m his childhood friend—technically still his friend—that sort of makes us... friends by association, right?."

I glanced at her. Was she serious?

Her expression was wide-eyed, guileless. Sweet.

"I an it," she went on. "We might as well get to know each other. He’s important to both of us, right?"

I nodded slowly. "Sure. That makes sense."

"Great!" she said brightly. "Because honestly? I’d love to get to know you. You could even give a little tour later—show what’s changed. I’ve been away for so long... I feel like I’ve landed in a whole new city."

"Seventeen years, right?" I said, rembering her earlier comnt.

She nodded. "Exactly. Everything’s different. You’ve probably discovered all the good coffee places, shortcuts, lunch spots..." She dropped her voice conspiratorially. "And probably where Adrien keeps his secret snacks."

I laughed. "Oh, I wish. If he has any, he’s hiding them from ."

Clara leaned in just a touch, her perfu wrapping around us like a very expensive fog. "Also... can I ask you sothing? Off the record."

"Sure?"

"How did you do it?"

I blinked. "Do what?"

"Get Adrien to fall for you." She laughed, like it was the most fascinating puzzle on earth. "I an, that man is the emotional equivalent of a locked vault. I’ve seen people try to get close to him—he never lets anyone in. But you? He lted. What’s your secret?"

I wasn’t sure if it was a complint, a test, or a trap. Probably all three.

"Well," I said evenly, "maybe he was waiting for the right person."

Her smile tightened just slightly at the edges as she looks at like she was expecting to say more. "Maybe."

"I... I don’t know," I paused, thinking of what to say next. "I just... I didn’t try to do anything. We just... connected, I guess."

Clara humd, a soft, thoughtful sound. "Connected. Yes. That’s probably the right word. He’s always been so particular about connections. He lost soone very important to him, you know. A long ti ago. He hasn’t been the sa since."

My breath hitched. Adrien had never spoken of losing anyone. He was private, yes, but this felt like a significant omission.

"Oh?" I managed, trying to keep my voice casual, though my stomach was doing flip-flops. "I... I didn’t know."

Clara’s smile softened further, a touch of sympathy entering her eyes. "No, I suppose he wouldn’t have told you yet. It was a very long ti ago, when we were just kids. But it shaped him, profoundly. Made him build those walls. It’s why what you’ve done is so truly impressive."

She paused, letting the implication hang in the air. What I’d done. Like it was so strategic infiltration.

Then, as quickly as the serious topic arose, she brightened. "Anyway! Enough heavy talk for a Tuesday morning. We have a lot to catch up on, don’t we? I’m really looking forward to working with you, Isabella. Let’s make this a beautiful partnership, shall we?"

"Absolutely," I said, trying to infuse my voice with a similar bright, cooperative tone, though it probably sounded a little strained. "I’m looking forward to it too, Clara." I mirrored her use of full nas.

We fell into a comfortable silence after that—just the tapping of keys and the soft whir of office life moving around us.

I glanced at her again. She didn’t look tense or territorial. In fact, she looked genuinely interested, even sweet.

She kind of... seed nice.

Then she turned, holding sothing out to .

"A peace offering," she said with a small smile, extending a sleek, gold-wrapped chocolate bar.

I blinked. "Oh! Thank you. That’s really sweet—literally." I accepted it politely, turning it over in my hands. "But um... I don’t really like chocolate bars much."

Clara’s smile didn’t falter. Instead, she reached into her desk drawer with a graceful flick and produced a second one—this ti, wrapped in soft pink foil with tiny strawberry illustrations on the edge.

"Don’t worry. I always carry different flavors. Just in case."

"Oh, wow," I breathed, genuinely chard. "Strawberry?"

"It’s Belgian white chocolate with crushed berries. Subtle, but divine."

I accepted it with a smile that blood too fast, like a flower reacting to sudden sunlight.

"Thanks," I said, unwrapping the end and taking a small bite. "Mmm. Oh wow... This is actually really good."

"I know, right?" she said, grinning.

The strawberry lted on my tongue with a soft, velvety sweetness, not too sugary—just right.

"You’ve officially upgraded my snack expectations," I mumbled mid-chew.

Clara leaned back, a light twinkle in her eyes. "It’s a talent."

I giggled. "You’re kind of like a sunshine stash dealer."

She tossed her hair gently, mock-sassy. "Guilty."

I nodded, chewing slowly to savour. "It’s like... creamy and soft and fruity at the sa ti."

"I like to be prepared," she said. "People underestimate how powerful sweetness can be."

I smiled and looked at her again. Her whole vibe was light, pleasant. She even looked like spring: glossy hair, soft pink nails, and the effortless grace of soone who probably had ballet lessons in her childhood.

And still, here she was—handing strawberry chocolate and chatting about snacks like we were already on the sa wavelength.

She’s... actually really sweet.

And pretty too, I thought absently.

"Thank you again," I said sincerely, lifting the bar like a toast. "For this and the company."

Her smile softened, genuinely this ti. "Anyti, desk buddy."

I smiled back, heart lighter than it had been all day.

Maybe this was the start of sothing good, I can’t wait to tell aria.