Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara was kneeling on the cold marble floor of the hall, sitting perfectly still, her eyes glued to the TV. She didn't even blink as the news scrolled by.

It was almost morning, but Dylan still wasn't back. What if Walter had punished him? The thought made her chest tighten with worry. Every so often, she'd glance at the door, rubbing her knees to try and get some feeling back.

The news had been running non-stop all night. The reporters just kept rehashing Henry's scandal and stirring up more gossip about the Ferguson family. Everyone was talking about them now-Walter especially, since he'd once stepped down from that same spotlight. There was no way they could avoid attention this time.

Clara let out a long sigh, just as she heard a car engine outside. She craned her neck, heart pounding. Headlights flashed across the window, then footsteps echoed at the door.noveldrama

Aiden walked in.

She met his eyes, then quickly looked past him, searching for Dylan. He wasn't there.

"Aiden, where's Mr. Dylan?"

Aiden gave a sharp, humorless laugh and hung his coat on the rack. "Thanks to you, Clara, the boss has to get married within two weeks. Walter's orders."

Clara's mind spun. "Wait, what does Eden have to do with Mr. Dylan getting married? Is Walter making him marry Eden?"

Aiden's face darkened as he strode closer. "Clara, do you even listen to yourself? You saw the news, didn't you? The boss leaked Eden's background info to protect you. Now the whole Ferguson family is in the crosshairs. Walter thinks he's got feelings for you, so he's forcing him to get married—just to kill any chance between you."

He rattled it all off, and Clara barely caught half of it.

Who liked who?

Dylan... liked her?

She almost laughed at the idea, but the look on Aiden's face made her pause. She rubbed her aching knees, suddenly unsure.

"So... you mean Mr. Dylan likes me?"

Her smile faded as she met Aiden's serious gaze. Bits and pieces of her time with Dylan flickered through her mind. She'd hurt his leg, and he never blamed her. She'd pushed his buttons more times than she could count, and he always let it slide. When he wanted those plum blossoms, he'd protected her instead.

Adding it all up, something did feel off.

But they'd barely spent any real time together, hadn't they?

She frowned, thinking back over everything. "You're saying Mr. Dylan exposed Eden's secret just to protect me? Isn't that risky for him? What about Walter-?"

She stopped, realization hitting her.

Dylan was in trouble for sure. Walter wanted him married off. But his first love was gone-who was he supposed to marry?

Aiden snorted. “Maybe you should get ready, Clara. Take your ID, go register the marriage with the boss yourself."

"I have a boyfriend," she said seriously, lifting her eyes to his. "I really do love my boyfriend."

Aiden didn't respond. He just turned and marched upstairs.

Clara stayed kneeling a little longer, watching as Aiden came down carrying a

huge medical kit. Her heart lurched. Dylan's legs still weren't healed. Had Walter punished him?

She remembered what happened to Simon after he'd been "disciplined"-his back covered in blood.

"Aiden..." she called softly.

But Aiden ignored her and brushed past.

Clara tried to stand, but her knees screamed in protest. She winced her face turning pale from the pain, but she hurried after him. By the time she reached the gate, Aiden was already in the car.

"Aiden!"

She tried to leave the estate, making it all the way to the front gate, but the guard stopped her cold. Her phone had been confiscated by Aiden. She couldn't reach anyone.

Left with no choice, Clara went back inside and rummaged through the fridge for something to eat. There was a stale sandwich and a slice of pie. She figured she'd ask a

housekeeper for a phone of

someone showed up.

But morning dragged into noon, and still no one came.

The TV kept blaring about Eden, the scandal snowballing by the hour Clara's anxiety grew. How deep was Dylan in this mess? Even if Walter had always favored him, this had to be the last straw.

Desperate, she went to the gate and asked the guard for a phone, but he just glanced at her and slid the window shut.

She waited. Ate whatever leftovers she could find-cheese, crackers, cold

chicken. Three days passed in that empty, echoing house.

Then, finally, the news changed. Someone had snapped a blurry photo of Dylan being rushed into the hospital.

The car outside the ER was definitely his.

Clara's heart shot into her throat.

She barely slept that night, pacing the hall, nerves raw. The next evening, she'd

just stepped out of the shower when she heard a car pull up.

She threw on the nearest sweater and bolted downstairs.

Dylan.

"Mr. Dylan!" she called.

He looked pale, worn out, sitting quietly in his wheelchair. Didn't even glance her

way.

Clara clutched her sweater tighter and stepped into the elevator with him.

"Mr. Dylan, are you feeling any better?" she asked softly.

He didn't answer. His lashes hung low, his thoughts somewhere far away.

He'd always been distant, but this felt like ice. It hurt more than she expected.

She followed him into the master bedroom, hovering in the doorway.

"Mr. Dylan..."

Before she could finish, his voice cut through the silence. "If I sent you overseas right now, would you go?"