Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 78

In the early evening, she knocked off work a little ahead of schedule, darted to the supermarket to grab all the ingredients she needed, and then dashed home. Dylan would be home two hours, so she figured she had plenty of time to whip up six dishes.

Busy in the kitchen, she was down to her last twenty minutes when the doorbell rang. Expecting Dylan, she hurried to the door.

"Hi..."

She didn't get to finish her greeting before realizing it was Naomi at the threshold. Her mood plummeted, her expression turning frosty.

Naomi barged in, drawn by the delicious smells wafting from inside. "Clara, here you are cooking up a storm while Quinn and Ryan are desperate for your food! Quinn's sick and keeps asking for your cooking. You need to come back to the Bradford estate with me."

Clara raised a hand to close the door, not in the mood to engage.

Naomi shoved the door open with force. "This house was bought with Quinn's money, wasn't it? Now she's sick and craving your meals, and you couldn't care less? How heartless can you be?"

Ignoring Clara's protests, she stormed over to the dining table. When she saw the six beautifully arranged dishes, in a fit of rage, she yanked the tablecloth, sending everything crashing to the floor, with food splattering everywhere.

"Quinn and Ryan can't have this, and you're just here indulging yourself!"

Clara stood there, stunned for a few seconds, before calling the management office.

The staff hesitated, "Ms. Clara, we didn't intentionally let her in, but she claimed to be your mother, and she recently bought a villa for her other daughter, so some of us recognized her."

"I have no ties to her. She's causing a scene. Please escort her out."

with anger. She had approached Clara twice recently, and her

Clara crouched to clean up the shattered dishes, she

the doorway, looking sharp in

at first, but why did he always seem to show

tightened a bit as she quietly said, “I'm sorry, Mr. Dylan.

Bradford family gone, the mention still pricked

she bent to pick up a broken dish, she accidentally cut herself, a fresh wound

he gently took her hand. "Don't move. I'll have Aiden clean this

right-hand man, took care of nearly everything for Dylan. Right then, Aiden stood

surprised look somewhat amusing, although she couldn't

okay. I can handle it,"

continue picking up the pieces, but

Dylan called, and

sit down. I've got this." He efficiently fetched a mop from the

the couch, still holding her wrist gently. As soon as she sat down, he

agitation cooled at his touch. It felt like brushing against

the atmosphere delicate. Dylan cleaned her fingers thoroughly,

tossed the tissue in the trash, then

"I do."

the couch on her return. Her hand hadn't bled

Her period had

pants had to be stained. Did Dylan see everything