Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 667

Charles pulled Clara through the night market, the place buzzing with laughter,

bright lights, and the mouthwatering smell of street food. It was the kind of chaos

that felt alive, like the city itself was throwing a party.

Clara drifted toward a stall selling candied hawthorns, her eyes glazed with

curiosity. She trailed behind the old man running the stand, grabbed a stick, and

strolled off without a word about paying.

The old vendor spun around, ready to scold her-until a crisp hundred-yuan note

appeared under his nose. He glanced up, startled, and found himself staring into

the sharp, intimidating face of a guy who looked like he'd walked out of a movie.

Charles's voice was low and flat. "Keep the change."

The vendor snatched the bill and hurried away, half-shivering, eager to put

distance between himself and Charles.

As soon as he was gone, Charles's tough-guy vibe disappeared. He turned to

Clara, suddenly looking more like a scolded dog than a bodyguard. "Clara, you

know you're supposed to pay for stuff, right? Don't just grab things."

But before he could keep scolding, Clara handed the stick of candied hawthorns

to him. "This is for you, bro."

Charles blinked, caught off guard. "For... me?"

She nodded. "You were staring at them."

He took it carefully, like it might break, and bit into the glossy red candy. It was

ridiculously sweet, but for some reason, his chest felt even warmer.

this around his older brother, Mitch. It

way.

it back. "Alright, you should eat some

shook her head and pointed

far away, a small amusement park beckoned, its lights drawing in a

at the

whole life had been training and

a game

seemed to know what she was

cheered him on as

the hang of it fast-make that really fast. Ball after ball slipped

crowd circled around

the game finally ended, Clara was hugging the biggest stuffed

stall.

a little embarrassed by all the

her out of

bear to her chest. "What

brought her

was having the

his life. Clara,

to tag along,

and wait, like

was enough.

only candied hawthorn she'd "bought" had been for

night market stretched on and on, packed

sugar artist's booth,

me two really big, fierce

glanced up, skeptical. "You're joking, right? No dog

"Just do it. What are

artist grumbled, "That's

old man-" but then

make

artist glanced at Clara, eyebrow raised, but shrugged

delicate sugar figure took shape-a girl with

sugar figure to Clara, grinning. "Here. For you. From your

brother."

lit up her whole face.

happy tingle in his chest as they