Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 818

Aiden gripped the bedsheets, surprisingly calm about his legs. When they’d carried out his punishment, he’d already calculated—a thirty percent chance he’d make it through to rehab. He could live with those odds.

He’d expected someone would eventually come save him, but he never thought it would be Clara.

Now, he understood why the CEO liked her so much.

When Clara decided to care about someone, it was like a sudden beam of light breaking through the dark—impossible to ignore, impossible not to be drawn in.

“Sir, about the Ferguson family overseas…”

“We’ll talk about that later.”

Dylan’s voice was so flat, Aiden couldn’t help but feel like he was just drifting through life, waiting for something, anything, to matter. For a man as powerful as Dylan, how did things end up like this?

Maybe it was all about those secrets still buried away. As long as Clara didn’t know the truth—as long as she didn’t love him knowing everything—he’d stay stuck like this.

He wasn’t afraid Clara might die because of someone’s scheme. If it came to that, he’d go with her. Death didn’t scare him. What scared him was the thought of never seeing her again. If that day ever came, he’d rather they left this world together. At least then, maybe they could find each other in the next life.

Dylan was twisted, a little dark, and he’d never dared show anyone that side of himself.

How could Clara ever love someone like him? She never would. The one she loved was always that bright, shining senior of hers.

The hospital room was quiet until Aiden’s phone buzzed. Clara’s name lit up the screen.

Her voice was gentle. “How are you feeling?”

Without thinking, Aiden glanced at Dylan, still sitting at his bedside. “Much better, ma’am. Thank you.”

Clara didn’t get why he was thanking her—Aiden had helped her so many times before.

She pressed her lips together, wanting to ask about the West Hill cemetery, but he’d just woken up. Maybe Dylan was still there, too. Maybe the mess she’d made searching the study was something Dylan still couldn’t let go of.

Why had she been so quick to believe, back then?

She walked upstairs and pushed open the study door. It was still a disaster. Seeing the scattered files, she could almost feel her own panic from that night—how desperate she’d been.

She bent down, picking up the mess as she updated Aiden.

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