Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 237

Clara's knees were a mess, blood seeping through her skin, but that was nothing compared to the storm raging

in her heart. She'd been glued to the spot, watching Cedric's every move, and only when he finally disappeared

upstairs did she pull out her phone to reply to a message she couldn't ignore.

[Is it serious? Have you taken your medicine?]

Cedric barged into Dylan's room, carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Dylan, you need to take it

easy at hthis time."

Dylan, propped up against the bed, just gave a small nod. Cedric knew his son was the strong, silent type, which

only added to his frustration. "I don't want a repeat of this. Otherwise, Clara's going to be doing more than just

kneeling downstairs."

When Dylan heard Clara was kneeling, his hand tightened around the bedsheet, though his face stayed

expressionless. Cedric, misreading the situation, felt a wave of relief. "You've been looking better lately. Maybe

she's been shelp after all. | thought she was just pulling my leg. Get srest, okay?"

"Okay," Dylan replied, his eyelids drooping like he hadn't slept in days. Sensing the mood, Cedric got up and left,

leaving the estate behind.

Outside, a gentle rain began to fall, and Clara, resigned to her fate, thought she'd be kneeling until sunrise. But

then, out of nowhere, the glass doors to the courtyard swung open, and there stood Dylan, wrapped in a coat,

not far from her.

Her eyes brightened instantly, and she tried to stand up quickly. Too quickly. She barely got halfway before her

knees gave out, a sharp stone digging in painfully.

Dylan's eyes widened, and he instinctively moved towards her, but she stopped him, "Mr. Dylan, it's chilly out

here. Just stay put; I'll be alright in a second.”

Gritting her teeth, she yanked the stone out of her flesh, and in no time, she was at his side, pale but

determined.

Dylan's hand trembled slightly by his side. Clara noticed his lips twitch as if he was about to speak.

She stood there, waiting to hear what he had to say.

But all he managed was, "Clara."

Clara was a bit confused but managed a small smile. "I'm just relieved you're okay. You scared me. If anything

happened to you because of me, I'd never forgive myself. Hey, are you hungry? | could whip up something for

you."

Dylan seemed to struggle with his words, then took a deep breath, "Sure."

Clara helped him to the sofa and was about to dash to the kitchen when he caught her wrist.

His eyes were deep and troubled, "Sit down. Let's sort out that knee first."

She was tough when it cto pain, waving him off, "I'm fine."

But before she knew it, he had gently but firmly pushed her onto the sofa. Her trousers were quickly rolled up,

revealing her battered knees.

Dylan fetched the first aid kit, rolling up his sleeves, ready to clean the wound himself.

Clara quickly reconsidered and pulled her leg back. "I can handle it."

She snatched the disinfectant spray from him, spritzed her knee, and grabbed sointment from the kit,

hastily smearing it on before rolling her pant leg down. Dylan's hand hovered awkwardly in the air, fingers

curling as he slowly sat back.

Clara had already noticed the fading bite mark on her calf from Z. She didn't want Dylan asking about it,

especially since it was a bit awkward having her boss see it. Dylan sat quietly beside her, and suddenly Clara

didn't know what to say.

She got up to try cooking again but was stopped by his voice, "You should head home."

Clara paused, unsure. How could she just leave when Dylan's current state was partly her fault?

"I'll make you something to eat."

He seemed distracted, smoothing his sleeve absentmindedly, "No need, thanks."

Dylan was back to being distant, and Clara felt a bit lost. She shuffled to the entryway, changing her shoes,

preparing to leave.

She felt guilty about Dylan. Despite his high status, his manners were impeccable. Even after she caused him

trouble, he wasn't angry.

The more she thought about it, the guiltier she felt. She lingered at the entryway for ten minutes, unable to walk

out the door.

Dylan sat on the sofa with his back to her, like a silent standoff.

Finally, Clara caved, slipped back into her indoor shoes, and approached him again.

"Mr. Dylan, | heard from Aiden you'll be taking it easy this week. Letdrop by

daily and cook for you. Consider it my way of making amends."

"Not rushing off to see your boyfriend?" he asked, catching her off guard.

She blushed, embarrassed he knew. "I'll go later."

After that, Dylan glanced at her, "You're not that into him, are you?"

Clara flushed, feeling exposed. Her feelings for Z weren't quite love, just admiration. He had shown up at just the

right time, during her amnesia, and his gentle presence had immediately struck a chord with her.

She wasn't sure what she liked before, but she did like him now. As for love, she wasn't ready for it.

The word was too heavy, too much to handle.

The air between them shifted, becoming delicate.

Dylan stood up suddenly, heading upstairs without another word.

Clara was left standing there, unsure whether to stay or go. She pulled out her

phone, scrolling to her chat with Z, still with no reply.

Could he have fainted from the pain?

She sent another message.

[How are you now? Letcsee you, giveyour address.]

still, silence.

Chapter 237

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