Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 113

Chapter 113

"Are you heading over to see someone?" Clara inquired, noting the absence of

the usual file on his knee during the car ride. Today, Dylan seemed off, like he was carrying a heavy burden.

"Yeah," he replied curtly.

Picking up on his somber mood, Clara decided to keep her questions to herself, afraid to probe further. But after

about ten minutes, Dylan unexpectedly broke the silence.

"Why'd you stop asking questions?"

His words felt like a sword hanging by a thread above her, threatening to fall. Clara swallowed nervously. "Is it

someone important?"

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"Very," he nodded, resting his chin on his hand and staring out the window. "When she left, | was shattered."

Despite feeling uneasy around Dylan, Clara had to admit he was quite the romantic. People often said that only

the rich could afford to be hopeless romantics, but that wasn't entirely true. In her materialistic circle, most

wealthy heirs were known for their playboy antics. Dylan's deep, unwavering love was a rare find.

The woman who had been his soulmate passed away seven years ago, and he still cto honor her every year.

The look on his face spoke volumes. Shelly was loved and remembered by Dylan in such an intense way. She

must've been truly special.

Clara kept quiet until they reached the West Hill Cemetery, a place guarded by solemn buildings and armed

personnel. Someone must've recognized the car because the massive iron gate swung open promptly.

There were countless steps beyond

the gate, Clara wondered where Shelly was laid to rest. As she parked, someone respectfully opened Dylan's

door. He appeared weary as he sat in his wheelchair, instructing her in a calm voice, "Wait here."

Naturally, she didn't dare follow him and quickly agreed, "Okay, okay."

Dylan's gaze flickered towards her, heavy and complex. She couldn't meet his eyes, lowered her head and

felt her back tense with nerves. He said nothing more and moved

slowly towards one of the buildings.

RUMS

Once he was out of sight, Clara let out a deep breath. She stood by the car and waited for about half an hour

until another vehicle pulled up. Jackson stepped out. She had nowhere to hide.

Jackson spotted her right away, raising an eyebrow with a mischievous smirk as he approached. "What are you

doing here? Did you finally realize your life isn't worth much?"

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Clara backed up a bit, quickly mentioning Dylan. "I cwith Mr. Dylan. He's inside."

The implication was clear: don't mess with me. Jackson sneered, giving her a once-over. "Lost your nerve, have

you? Are you afraid for your life now? Where's that bravado you used to flaunt?"

Clara frowned. People often talked about her past reckless behavior, like she was always tempting fate. It was a

wonder she had survived this long.

Jackson leaned in closer, his presence overwhelming her. "You better hope you never end up in my hands."

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With that, he swiftly put distance between them and headed inside. Clara could feel the threat lingering in the

air. But he was a member of the powerful Dawson family, and she was in no position to challenge them. She

struggled enough dealing with just Quinn. A wave of helplessness washed over her, making her feel like her life

could slip away at any moment.