Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

The doctor nodded, realizing the eldest master had finally backed down-he wasn't going to interfere with the little master's friendships anymore.

Out on the castle lawn, Charles was still laughing and chatting on the phone with Clara. She rambled on about her favorite comics, and he swapped childhood stories about his two older brothers. They were both in high spirits, the conversation light and easy-neither wanted to hang up.

But when Clara ended the call, she felt a pang of regret. She'd meant to ask him something important-how to make things right with someone after a fight-but now it was too late.

She sighed, staring at her chat with Dylan. Still no response.

Deflated, she let herself sink into the couch, thinking maybe it was better to just avoid the whole mess for now.

Meanwhile, over at Ferguson Corporation, Dylan had been working non-stop since morning, never leaving his office, barely taking a breath. Morgan had checked in multiple times and quickly picked up on what was happening: the boss and his wife had definitely argued.

As the only person in the company who knew the truth about their relationship, Morgan felt a deep sense of responsibility. He decided to act: he ordered a fancy takeout meal and, once it arrived, knocked on Dylan's office door.

"Come in," Dylan called, his voice cold as ice.

Morgan stepped inside, holding out the food. "Sir, you haven't eaten all day. You should take a break."

"Take it away," Dylan said, not even glancing up as he flipped through another page.

Morgan ignored him, opening the containers anyway. "Mrs. Ferguson told me last time she was here to keep an eye on you. She said you have stomach issues and I should order you food if needed."

Dylan's pen stilled. Last time? Oh, right. That time he'd basically forced her to visit the office. She hadn't been happy about it.

Morgan saw him lost in thought and pressed on. "I figured with Aiden around, you'd eat, but he's out with a client today. You've worked all morning without a break. Come on, have something. If Mrs. Ferguson asks, I need to be able to tell her I did my job."

Dylan knew, deep down, Clara probably didn't care. But a part of him wanted to believe she did. Even if it was just a lie he told himself. Maybe, just maybe, she meant it.

It wouldn't be the first time he'd tried to fool himself.

Right then, Clara's messages started popping up on his phone. She'd already sent a dozen today.

He unlocked his screen.

[Honey, don't forget to eat.]

The tightness in his chest melted away. He glanced at the takeout. Morgan quickly nudged it closer, trying to help.

Dylan picked up the chopsticks,

Dylan Prough her string of

reading

messages as he ate. Slow, careful, one

bite at a time.

The hardest thing in the world isn't love. It's loving and resenting someone all atnoveldrama

once.

*

Clara thought he'd come home that night. She waited and waited, but midnight came and went. Still no sign of him.

She'd sent so many messages. He hadn't replied to a single one.

She sat downstairs on the couch, waiting until two in the morning before finally drifting off. Lately, her dreams had become more frequent, more intense. Sometimes she couldn't even keep herself awake.

Tonight, she dreamed again—a

baby's cries echoing in her mind et

growing louder and sharper until her heart ached.

Then everything shifted. Suddenly, Dylan was there.

She saw herself slap him in front of a room full of people.

Back then, his legs were fine. He stood straight, proud, while everyone else in the room stared in shock.

He didn't say a word.

She demanded something her voice was muffled in the dream, but he admitted

it.

She tried to slap him again, but he caught her wrist and told everyone else to leave.

She didn't struggle, just stared at his face.

Once the room was empty, she yanked her hand free. "You took advantage of me

when I was vulnerable. Coward."

He looked up at her, five red marks clear on his pale skin.

His voice was soft, but steady. "You came to me first."