Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Chapter 276

Chapter 276

Clara couldn't help but chuckle, "Do you even know who Dylan is?"

Naomi blushed, realizing she had been caught up in Quinn's wild schemes, actually thinking Dylan might have an

interest in Quinn. "I... I... Clara, please, Quinn is your sister after all. Can you check on her?"

Clara took a deep breath, glancing at Johnny, who was lying on the bed, looking anxious. "This is the last time.

I'm not going to keep cleaning up messes for fools." Naomi's face flushed with embarrassment, but she kept

quiet this time.

Clara quickly found out which hotel they were at and headed out, making a call to Dylan as she drove. Knowing

Dylan's ruthless reputation, she was genuinely afraid that if she got there too late, Quinn might be in real

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danger. It was pretty clear Quinn had tried to drug him.

Dylan picked up, but his voice was urgent and shaky. "Clara..."

"Mr. Dylan, I'm on my way. Please, don't do anything to Quinn. The Bradford family will make things right. Just

hold on."

"Clara, I... I'm feeling really dizzy."

The drug had indeed taken its toll. Clara was beyond worried; if anything happened to Dylan because of this, it

wouldn't just be her in hot water-the entire Bradford family would be in jeopardy. What made Quinn think she

could ever catch Dylan's eye?

Rushing up the elevator, Clara found Quinn curled up in the hallway, covered in blood and sobbing. Seeing Quinn

alive was a relief; at least Johnny wouldn't have to deal with a tragedy.

Without even sparing Quinn a glance, Clara pushed open the door, missing the sheer terror in Quinn's eyes. "Mr.

Dylan."

As Clara stepped inside, a powerful force yanked her in. "Mr. Dylan..."

Dylan pinned her against the door, his lips crashing onto hers, his hands moving swiftly, crossing lines.

Fear shot through Clara, and she instinctively slapped him hard. The sound echoed throughout the room.

Dylan turned his head to the side, silent now, his movements halted. Clara's heart raced as she quickly moved

away and flicked on the lights.

The room was a disaster-bloodstains here and there, and an overpowering scent of incense lingered. Dylan

leaned against the door, his head hung low, deep in thought.

Clara spotted the gun on the coffee table, realizing Dylan had indeed considered killing Quinn but hadn't

followed through. "Mr. Dylan, it's Clara. You're not yourself right now, but | know you're better than falling for

such a cheap trap. That slap was necessary, and when you're back to normal, I'll take whatever you decide."

Dylan licked the blood from his lips, slowly lifting his gaze to meet hers. Clara always felt there was a wild,

untamed darkness inside him.

Seeing him move toward her again, she quickly picked up the gun. "Don't cany closer."

Her face was composed, the gun loaded.

Dylan froze, standing still. Clara didn't want things to escalate, but if she ended up tangled with Dylan because

of the drug, resigning and breaking up with Z would be next. She couldn't let that happen.

Dylan hesitated for a moment, then took another step forward, "Are you really going to shoot?"