Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run
Chapter 54

Dylan's face was a blank slate as he wheeled himself away, clearly wanting to be anywhere but with Quinn.

Quinn quickly stepped behind the wheelchair. "Mr. Dylan, let me take you back."

Before she could even finish her sentence, a cold word sliced through the air. "Scram."

Quinn froze, thinking she must have misheard. She stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to react. It wasn't until the sound of the wheelchair faded into the distance that her anger began to bubble up, and her face flushed red. Her fists clenched, and her chest heaved with indignation. She'd never been treated this way before, and Dylan had the audacity to humiliate her like that!

On a night like this, he had run into her by chance and found themselves in front of the same painting. Wasn't he supposed to feel some kind of destiny or connection?

'Damn it! Dylan really doesn't play by the rules!' Quinn thought.

Seething, Quinn stormed back to her room. But as soon as she opened the door,

a man pulled her into a fierce embrace and kissed her passionately.

It was Simon.

Quinn thought about how Simon treated Clara indifferently but was so passionate with her, and her frustration melted away a bit.

"Simon, why aren't you asleep yet?"

"It's late. What were you doing outside?"

"I just thought the moon looked especially beautiful tonight."

Simon kissed her a little longer before carrying her back to bed. Ever since they had accidentally ended up together after a drunken night a year ago, they hadn't tiptoed around it, and they had just had sex again.

Quinn spoke with a hint of concern, "I wandered over to the west wing, which is quite far from here. Simon, you should check on Clara in the morning. She came all the way to South Ashford out of spite, probably because she heard I was coming here to help with the farm."

Simon looked irritated, but he felt a twinge of discomfort when he recalled his uncle's words from earlier.

He and Clara had been close in the past. Clara liked him, and he liked her back. Clara had even saved his life once, nearly drowning in the process, and he'd never forgotten that.

But Quinn's hardships were heart-wrenching. She'd been through so much and only returned five years ago, and she was so thoughtful.

Clara had been living in luxury with the Bradford family for years. Quinn had helped Clara escape back then, but Clara showed no gratitude at all.

Quinn's hand softly traced Simon's chest. "Simon, I don't want things to get ugly between me and my sister. I know she's always been wary of me and thinks I've taken everything from her. I can understand her, and she genuinely likes you. I often feel like the villain here."

Simon hugged her tightly. "I'll check on her tomorrow, but don't put yourself down. It was my mistake for drinking too much and slept with you. I'm the one who should be responsible."

Quinn's smile was sly. Initially, she envied Clara for having such a great fiancé. When she first came back to the Bradford family, everything felt alien. Simon's initial coldness and his devotion to Clara irked her.

Naturally, she wasn't thrilled about it and started doing things to win Simon's sympathy. Gradually, his heart shifted towards her.

But that wasn't enough. She needed Simon to completely despise Clara, and she nailed it. Not only Simon but everyone turned against Clara.

When she returned to the Bradford family, she vowed to take everything Clara held dear.

Quinn basked in the attention, replaceing joy in Clara's misfortunes.

The next morning, Simon dragged his feet to Clara's courtyard. He knocked on her door, but after ten minutes, there was no response. His patience wore thin until a door behind him opened.

He was a bit startled, like a deer caught in headlights. "Uncle Dylan, you live across the hall?"

With so many rooms in the house, why were his uncle and Clara living just across from each other? That uncomfortable feeling crept up again.

"Yeah, what do you need?"

"I wanted to see how Clara's holding up. She messed up with those orders that couldn't be shipped, and I thought I'd comfort her."

Dylan glanced at the conspicuous and telling red marks on Simon's neck. Was he really here to comfort Clara or to rub salt in her wounds?

Simon, seemingly oblivious to the marks, pulled out his phone to call Clara, only to remember she'd blocked him.

"Uncle Dylan, can you call Clara for me?"

Dylan, seated in his wheelchair, let a cold smirk slip. "Before you come looking for her, at least clean up the evidence of your escapades."

Simon blinked, slow on the uptake. Then he covered his neck, remembering how Quinn had kissed him there for ages last night.

He felt a bit awkward but shook it off. "Clara knows. Anyway, nothing's going to happen between us anymore."

"Then why are you here looking for her?"

Simon was stumped. Indeed, he had decided to break off the engagement with Clara, so why bother with her?

Dylan turned away, his gaze icy. "Or perhaps even after sleeping with Quinn, you still can't let go of Clara, who's been nothing but good to you?"

Clara had been devoted to Simon, and any man would feel proud to have such a beautiful woman care for him.

Simon was caught off guard. "I just..."

"Stay away from her from now on. You don't deserve to be by her side."

Dylan was a man of few words. He was never close to the rest of the Ferguson family, especially after his accident. He spent the last two years abroad and never made a single phone call to his family. Since returning, he hadn't engaged in any Ferguson family gatherings.

Simon was always on edge around him, but Dylan had never spoken to him this way before.

Simon felt uneasy but didn't dare argue. His hand slowly clenched at his side.

Did he really not deserve to be by Clara's side, or did she not deserve to be by his? After all, everyone knew how Clara had thrown herself at him.