Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 246

Clara strolled into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and picked out a few ingredients without much thought before diving into meal prep. Her mind drifted to Z's

predicament, and in her distraction, she nicked her finger. It was just a tiny cut, but it bled more than you'd expect.

She quickly pulled herself together, determined to finish cooking. Afterward, she reached for a bottle and shook out two pills. What Clara didn't realize was that the kitchen door was cleverly designed-opaque from the inside but almost see- through from the outside, making her every move a spectacle for anyone outside.

Carrying a few dishes to the table, she flashed a smile at him. "Dinner's ready, Mr. Dylan."

Dylan slowly closed the file he was reading and maneuvered his wheelchair to the table. Clara served him some food and poured a bowl of soup.

But Dylan didn't reach for it. His gaze lingered on the soup for a few seconds before his lashes fluttered down. "You've hurt your hand; you should feed me."

Clara glanced at his hand. Wasn't he just holding a pen a moment ago? But she kept her questions to herself and carefully brought a spoonful of soup to his lips.

Dylan looked up, giving her a sidelong glance. Clara forced an awkward smile, "Go on, my cooking's not bad, you know."

He gazed at her intently before lowering his head and finishing the soup in one go. "Not bad at all."

relieved. "Glad you

a small bowl of soup, she was about to end the phone call she had kept active, aware that Lincoln was listening

planned to come clean to Dylan once the call was

skipped a beat, and she leapt from her

"Clara, you really thought I'd use a slow-acting poison? Just one sip of that poison, and he's done for.

over; she wouldn't ever actually poison

Dylan faint?! Her forehead gleamed with sweat,

realize she was holding, her

forehead, his voice weak. "I haven't

flushed with frustration, she didn't know what to say,

just happened. He even touched the corner of his mouth, asking

with embarrassment. "I saw you faint and gave

over her. Remembering his dislike for close contact with women, Clara quickly promised, "I didn't mean to; I was just panicking. Mr. Dylan, you've got to believe

I don't want

Clara felt a chill run through her. Last time, he'd misunderstood her during

hesitated, and finally said, "I have a boyfriend. I