Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 678

Ever since Clara came back, Palm Bay felt alive again. The whole place buzzed—suddenly, even the smallest chores seemed easier for the staff.

As long as Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson weren’t fighting, life was sweet. Honestly, Aiden hoped this stretch of peace would never end. For once, the infamous workaholic hadn’t touched his laptop, spending every moment tending to Clara instead.

Dylan peeled a grape and held it out to her. Clara barely glanced up from her comic, just leaned over and popped the grape—and his fingertips—into her mouth. Dylan, distracted, crushed another grape in his other hand without realizing.

Clara was oblivious. She read a few more pages before noticing his silence. She glanced over and saw him, elbow propped on the couch, hand covering his mouth, staring out the window completely lost in thought.

She set her comic aside, peeled a grape herself, and held it to his lips. “Babe, have one.”

His eyelashes fluttered as he looked back at her, eyes landing on her bright, innocent face. She looked so sweet—almost like a little deer, wide-eyed and clueless.

But he knew better. This wasn’t the real Clara. No one compared to the real her.

He dropped his gaze as she asked quietly, “Are you upset?”

“I’m happy.” He answered right away, honest but distracted. “I was just wondering… if you’re mad at me.”

He figured she probably didn’t like him acting like this. Clara was always so tough.

She grinned. “No way. I’m having so much fun lately. No worries at all. You’re good to me, and so is my brother.”

The softness in Dylan’s eyes faded the second she mentioned someone else. He gently took her hand, grabbed a tissue, and slowly wiped the grape juice from her fingertips.

Sensing his mood change, Clara fell silent. Dylan cleaned her hand until it was spotless, then pressed her fingers to his cheek, nuzzling them softly.

Her fingers curled before she could stop them. The feeling was… hard to describe.

Her mind flashed to last night. Flustered, she pulled her hand back and shook out her shirt collar. “It’s kinda warm in here.”

The truth was, she was just nervous—all hot and restless. She didn’t dare meet his eyes, burying herself in her comic again. But after a few seconds, she realized she hadn’t read a single word, sneaking glances at him from the corner of her eye.

Dylan was about to say something, a smile tugging at his lips, when Aiden walked in.

“Mr. Ferguson, Walter wants you to bring Clara to the main house for dinner.”

The Fergusons had made a big show of searching for her, and now that she was back, Walter wanted to see her. No one knew what to expect.

Dylan hadn’t turned his phone on in days, ignoring the outside world. With the spell broken, he just nodded. “Okay.”

He took Clara’s hand and led her to change clothes.

The bodyguards glanced at Dylan for help. He looked away, barely hiding a smile.

Clara followed him inside, standing just behind him.

Dylan faced Walter and greeted him respectfully. “Father.”

Clara watched, then leaned over and whispered, “Am I supposed to say that too?”

She really hoped not.

Dylan’s hand curled into a fist as he coughed softly. “Just sit over there.”

She nodded—finally, something she could do—and picked the fanciest-looking chair.

Walter’s face was stone-cold. He took a long, deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm. “The birthday banquet is in a week. We’ll have guests from abroad. I don’t care what you and Clara have going on, but she cannot show up at the Ferguson family’s event. Dylan, let’s compromise. You know how long we’ve worked for this position. We can’t risk anything now. If you want to keep Clara, that’s up to you. I’m done arguing.”

“Clara is my wife.”

Walter’s face darkened instantly. He hadn’t been this furious in years.