Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

His words carried no emotion-light, almost casual.

But Clara just knew: if she didn't answer the way he wanted, things would go horribly wrong for her.

This wasn't just a question. It was the kind of moment that could change her entire life.

She didn't know who her real father was, and honestly, there was nothing keeping her in the Capital. Maybe if she left the country, Dylan's problems would finally go away.

Walter only wanted to see Dylan's attitude, after all.

Clara clutched the collar of her sweater, thinking for what felt like ages, searching his back for any hint of what he wanted. Nothing.

Finally, after a long silence, she whispered, "Okay. I promise. I won't ever come back."

The mood in the room shifted instantly-dark and suffocating.

Clara's face went white. She had no idea how her answer had set him off again.

Hadn't he asked her to say exactly that?

He looked at her and said quietly, "Clara, when you answered just now, did your boyfriend even cross your mind for a second?"

She went silent.

Yes, she liked Z. But right now, her own situation mattered more.

Love couldn't solve everything. And who could say for sure if the person you're

with is really the one you'll spend your life with?noveldrama

She'd made Z all sorts of promises, but one day he might forget them.

People mourn, move on, and remarry all the time.

She cared about Z-leaving would hurt-but this was still her best option.

"So what do you want me to say, Mr. Dylan?"

She gave up on guessing how he felt. Asking directly was easier.

Dylan finally turned to face her.

For the first time, Clara saw something raw flicker in his eyes—a complicated mix

of resentment and longing so thick it made it hard to breathe. She instinctively stepped back.

Dylan stood up from his wheelchair, crossed to the wardrobe, pulled out fresh clothes, and went into the bathroom.

Clara stood there, completely thrown.

That look he'd given her had rattled her to the core.

It was like the cold, unreachable man she thought she knew had suddenly become dangerous-almost magnetic.

She stood frozen until the bathroom door finally opened, sending a blast of cold air into the room.

He'd taken a cold shower. In the middle of winter.

Dylan came out in a bathrobe, water beading down his chest.

His hair was dripping, and as he walked to the window with his eyes lowered, drops fell onto the floor.

Clara hadn't felt much before, but now it was like the whole room was charged with something fierce and intense.

She shifted, suddenly remembering what Aiden had said-Dylan liked her.

That thought made her even more uneasy.

The curtains snapped shut with a single pull.

Bright bedroom lights glared overhead, but the sound of

s closing made her thosen et

race

all the wrong reasons.

She took another step back, watching him carefully.

Dylan looked at her and said, "Marry me. Break up with your boyfriend."

For a second, Clara thought she'd

misheard. She opened her mouth et

ready to argue, but he cut

her

a cold, mocking tone.

"Your boyfriend doesn't really matter to you, does he?"

Something about the way he said it stung—as if he was calling out her lack of commitment, maybe even making fun of Z.

"Mr. Dylan, I don't even recognize you right now."

She barely finished speaking before he grabbed her wrist and yanked her close.

Clara's eyes went wide in shock. Before she could react, his lips crashed down on hers.

Her heart went wild-louder, faster, than ever before.

Was Dylan really kissing her? Was he out of his mind?

She tried to twist away, but he just~~ wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her tight. That fierce, almost desperate energy wrapped around her, trapping her in place.

Clara bit down hard on his lip.

She could taste blood, sharp and metallic—but even then, he didn't let go.

Not even pain could make him stop.