Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 757

Clara was crouched on the floor, gathering scattered things, when she spoke up, her tone steady. “You could give him the world and he still wouldn’t be happy. But with me? Even if I treat him badly, he smiles. That’s what love is—someone giving, someone willing to take it. I thought you’d figured that out by now.”

Tara’s tears fell silently, one after another.

The old lady watched her, heart aching. Tara should’ve been radiant, but because of something she herself had said years ago, Tara had grown stubborn and closed off.

“Tara, listen to me,” the old lady said softly. “Take those shares. Go abroad. Start fresh wherever you want. You still have a chance at happiness.”

But before she could finish, flames erupted outside the door, thick with the stench of gasoline and turpentine.

Clara jumped up and tried the door, only to find it locked tight from the outside.

She turned to Tara in disbelief. “Is this what you want? To go down together?”

Tara’s face went pale. She rushed at the door, rattling the handle, but it wouldn’t budge.

She shoved Clara aside, her face twisted with rage. “This is all you, isn’t it? You want me dead so you and Dylan can be together, no guilt at all! And the old lady too—get rid of us both, and no one stands in your way!”

Her eyes were wild and red, but there was no time to argue. The air was thick with toxic smoke.

Clara covered her nose, ignoring Tara’s accusations, and hurried to the old lady. “Hold this over your face,” she said, tearing a strip from her shirt and handing it over. “Don’t breathe too deep. The air’s bad.”

The fire spread fast; the ceiling was already burning. Outside, monks in brown robes—volunteers—tried to douse the flames, but their buckets of water weren’t nearly enough.

Tara started shouting, pounding on the walls. “Help! Is anyone out there? Help us!”

The old lady buckled, legs giving out as the smoke thickened. Clara caught her, steadying her as best she could. “Breathe slow,” she urged, pressing the cloth over the old lady’s nose and mouth.

Through watering eyes, the old lady looked at Clara, struck by how calm she remained. Maybe Dylan was right about her...

Suddenly, there was a loud crash. Tara, still by the door, saw someone smash open a window from the outside. She bolted for the opening.

But escaping wasn’t enough for her. She grabbed a burning curtain and hurled it back toward Clara and the old lady, rage twisting her features. Let them burn—then she could tell Dylan it was Clara who set the fire.

Her mind spun with hatred. It had to be Clara behind all this—she wanted Tara dead, out of the way, so she could have Dylan all to herself.

Outside, Tara threw more flammable junk back through the window, trying to block the only exit.

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