Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Morgan had been at Ferguson Corporation long enough to know exactly how to

read a room. The second he sensed Dylan was in a good mood, he slid right into a report about his latest projects. As expected, his timing paid off.

"Nice work. You really put some thought into this," Dylan said.

"Let HR bump up your salary."

Raises for senior staff usually meant weeks of meetings, endless paperwork, and layers of approvals. But now, with just a word from the CEO, it was done.

Morgan sat up a little straighter. He hadn't seen a raise in years-especially now, when other companies were slashing salaries and laying people off left and right. But not here. He was moving up, and he knew exactly who to thank.

Clara really was his lucky charm.

Clara had just scooped up a bite of dessert when she felt someone's beaming gaze land on her like a spotlight. She glanced up and caught Morgan staring at her.

He bowed a few times, grinning ear to ear. "Thank you, Mrs. Carter!"

She paused, fork halfway to her mouth, her brow furrowing. What had she even done?

Morgan left the office practically floating, humming to himself as the door clicked shut behind him.

Clara was left feeling a little confused, poking at her dessert with her spoon. When she was full, she set it aside and picked up a magazine, flipping through

the pages.

Every so often, Dylan's eyes drifted in her direction. Afternoon sunlight spilled through the window, climbing across the floor, lighting up the leaves of a potted plant, and catching on the glossy cover of her magazine.

She seemed completely absorbed, eyelashes lowered, turning pages without ever noticing his gaze.

Dylan spun his pen between his fingers, watching her for a few minutes before finally looking back at his own work. That's when he realized he'd written just one thing on the signature line of the document in front of him:

Clara.

His hand froze. Something heavy and bittersweet welled up in his chest, and he couldn't put words to it—even if he wanted to.

Clara kept reading for hours until sleepiness crept in. She hadn't been sleeping well lately, and now, almost without realizing it, she set the magazine aside, leaned into the couch, and drifted off.

Dylan watched her for a moment, then slipped out of his chair and quietly laid his suit jacket over her shoulders.

She didn't wake, just mumbled something and shifted, trying to get comfortable.

He sat back down, but nothing on his computer screen made sense anymore.

Clara woke up around four, rubbing her eyes. The sound of typing filled the office -Dylan was still at his computer, totally focused.

Of course he was. This was Dylan. He'd been working for hours without even looking tired.

When he noticed she was awake, he asked, "Hungry?"

She thought for a second, then nodded. She was.

Within ten minutes, Aiden showed up with their food, even moving the table closer

so she wouldn't have to get up.

Clara felt a little out of place. Even

she, as oblivious as she could could tell that everyone-the executives, Aiden, even

eemed to be looking out for

Dylan-seemed to be looking out for her. sŵnovel

She frowned, confused. She was supposed to be a prisoner here. Why were they treating her so well?

The food was beautifully a pět

every dish looking almost too

perfect to touch. Dylan sat across from her, nudging the platesche knew she liked a little closer.

She hesitated, chopsticks in hand, before blurting, "How did you know what I like

to eat?"

As soon as the question left her lips, she regretted it. It sounded way t she

personal, way too far.00

was betraying Z just by asking.

She took a steadying breath and didn't say another word.

After dinner, she followed Dylan downstairs.

This time, the car took them to Moonlight, a sleek little spot downtown. Shenoveldrama

guessed they were meeting up with Nicholas and the others.

Sure enough, as soon as they stepped into the private room, she spotted Nicholas and Richard.

Richard raised his eyebrows when the two of them walked in together, sipping his whiskey. "When did you bring her back?"

He'd honestly thought Dylan had given up searching. Guess not he was nothing if not persistent.

Dylan didn't answer. Instead, he turned to Clara. "What do you want to drink?"