Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 12

Simon tilted his head, disbelief washing over his face as his grip slackened for a moment. He touched his cheek, taking a few moments to process what had just happened. Clara had never slapped him before; she'd always preferred to bear the brunt of any pain herself rather than let him suffer. Just now, she had embarrassed him in front of everyone in the lounge.

He had a faint sense that something had shifted. But then Clara asked, "Does it hurt?" That question reignited his confidence. She was just putting on an act and trying to catch his attention! Of course, Clara was head over heels for him; she couldn't possibly leave him!

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Let's see how long you can keep this up."

Clara leaned against the wall, waiting until she was alone before rubbing her uneasy stomach. When he had grabbed her throat earlier, she had almost thrown up. The alcohol she had consumed was now wreaking havoc. Her stomach was bloated and aching.

She quickly changed her clothes and barely stepped out of the Moonlight's grand entrance when a forceful grip yanked her back. Colton kicked her in the stomach, malice etched on his face. "Weren't you so smug just a moment ago?"

Clara wiped the corner of her mouth, a bit amused. Colton had lost five million in the lounge, and was now ambushing her here. Truly pathetic. Anyone hanging out with Simon was the same-trash.

to Quinn. You're trash. What if I threw you onto Nate's bed? He'd be thrilled; he's been lusting after you for ages.

would move mountains for her. Wherever Quinn pointed, Colton struck. He looked down at the

walked away without a backward glance. Clara's scalp burned, and her stomach ached. Colton didn't hold back from hitting girls. She

welled up with tears. At least Colton was

of her. The window rolled down to reveal an astonishingly handsome face. The man's features were chiseled to perfection, exuding an air of nobility and indifference. His dark eyes reflected her current disheveled

react, her body instinctively retreated a few steps. It was Dylan. This was her first time seeing Dylan in person, and she was terrified, cold sweat quickly forming on her back. Her instincts couldn't lie; she must have kept a respectful distance from this man in the past. If Dylan's leg injury

flee, and

you live? I'll take you

was she so afraid

again, and her fingertips involuntarily curled. Just how frightened of Dylan had she been before? Even with