Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 681

Clara's face was pale, her hand gripping the edge of the bed so hard it looked like she might snap the wood in two.

When Dylan made his way up from downstairs, it was already close to eleven. The plans for the birthday banquet were finally settled. Thinking of Clara waiting for him in his room, he couldn't help but smile a little as he pushed open the door to his suite.

He hadn't stayed overnight at the old house in ages, and honestly, he never liked it much. Too many memories he'd rather leave buried.

He wheeled himself inside, rounded the corner-and stopped. The bed was empty.

His brows furrowed. Maybe she was just restless, wandering around. She was young, after all.

He called for the butler, his voice calm but clipped. "Where is she?"

The butler looked just as confused-he'd only just come up himself. Quickly, he went to ask the maid.

The maid didn't seem the least bit flustered. "No one told me there were special arrangements, so I put her in the last room at the end of the hall."

Dylan's eyes went cold. That's the storage room.

He fixed the maid with a glare that could cut glass.

dropping to her knees without

Clara was

out of line. Was this maid trying to make

smooth things over. "Young Master, let's check on her

never left

under the weight of his silence, head bowed, unable to

Dylan finally said, voice

was being kicked

the Fergusons for nearly thirty years, knew everyone, had always felt like

you grow up!" she pleaded. How could he

his wheelchair and

fuming, the maid scrambled to

time praying in the ancestral hall, only leaving for

have to help me! Young Master wants to throw me out because of

cushion, hands folded in prayer. At the maid's words, her brow tightened. With help, she rose and stepped outside,

Young Master wants me gone. Mrs. Ferguson, forgive me, but he cares too much

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