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."

exhaled, relieved. "Glad you

small bowl of soup, she was about to end the phone call she had kept active, aware that Lincoln was listening in. Now, he should be

come clean to Dylan once the

beat, and she leapt from her

the phone, laughing, "Clara, you really thought I'd use a slow-acting poison? Just

on her way over; she wouldn't ever actually poison Dylan. She was just putting

wind and started CPR. They were just vitamins—why did Dylan

breath she didn't realize she was holding, her eyes misty. "Mr. Dylan, don't scare me like

"I haven't

could scream. Her teeth clenched, cheeks flushed with frustration, she didn't know what to say, her

just happened. He even touched the corner

still flustered, blushed with embarrassment. "I saw you faint and

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

turned away, "Get out, I don't want

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

hesitated, and finally said, "I have a boyfriend. I have no other intentions toward you,