Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run
Chapter 99

Clara's palms were slick with sweat from nerves. She feld like she might not make

it to see the sunrise tomorrow. Every second felt like an eternity, dragging on painfully until a voice broke through the silence from outside.

"Clara! Clara, are you okay?"

It was Simon. Clara had never found Simon's voice more reassuring. She and Dylan hadn't spoken or made a sound for the past twenty minutes, and the silence had become overwhelmingly awkward.

"I'm fine. When can we get out?" Clara quickly replied, eager for some relief.

Simon had been trying to catch up with Clara and Dylan. He never expected the elevator they'd taken to break down. He was really starting to believe Clara might have amnesia, because why else would she be willingly near Dylan? Clara had always avoided Dylan like the plague.

Two years back, it was Simon who had talked Clara into approaching Dylan, which had led to Dylan's leg injury.

Simon was now frantic, shouting into the elevator. "Uncle Dylan, Clara had a car accident and doesn't remember much. Please cut her some slack—she's always been a bit impulsive."

Clara had been relieved to hear Simon initially, but now she wished he'd just zip it. Yet, Simon kept going. "Uncle Dylan, if Clara's done anything to upset you, please let it slide for my sake."

Clara felt mortified. She had indeed crossed a line with Dylan. No one else in the entire city would dare to sit on Dylan's lap and kiss him. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Simon knocked on the elevator door again. "Clara, you hear me? Don't do anything reckless in front of my uncle."

Taking a deep breath, Clara's earlier excitement vanished. "Just shut up!"

Her curt tone only ramped up Simon's anxiety, and he turned to yell at the rescue workers. "Hurry up! What are you all standing around for?"

The atmosphere in the elevator was bizarre, but Clara didn't have the nerve to speak to Dylan. Dylan's fingers drummed lightly on his wheelchair's armrest, each tap echoing in Clara's mind like a countdown.

Finally, the elevator doors were pried open, revealing the manager of Moonlight, who was nervously dabbing his forehead upon seeing Dylan. "Mr. Dylan, we're truly sorry."

Dylan remained silent, his gaze shifting to Clara. She was supposed to escort Dylan home, so she couldn't just bolt. Hesitantly, she moved behind his wheelchair and gave it a gentle push. When he didn't object, she sighed in relief.

As they stepped out, Simon rushed over, giving Clara a once-over to ensure she was unharmed. "You used to avoid Uncle Dylan like anything, but today you're sharing an elevator. Clara, did you really lose your memory?"

Clara felt Simon was really hitting all the wrong notes. She quickly pushed him away. "No, Simon. Quinn's pregnant now, so just focus on taking care of her."

Simon was left wondering, trying to read Clara's eyes. If she knew about Quinn's pregnancy, why wasn't she even a bit jealous? If she still had feelings for him, she'd be in tears by now.

Though Clara's words were cold, her hands trembled as she pushed Dylan's wheelchair. Memories of her time with Simon flooded back. They'd grown up together and were like childhood sweethearts. After so many years together, it was natural to have some attachment.

As she continued pushing Dylan's wheelchair, the Moonlight manager hurried over, visibly shaken. "Ms. Clara, let me handle this, please."

Clara figured Dylan probably didn't want to see her right now, considering the elevator awkwardness. She stepped aside, instructing the manager. "Aiden's not here tonight. Make sure Mr. Dylan gets home safe."

The manager wiped his brow. "Of course."

Clara stayed put, so Simon assumed she had more to say. He quickly stepped forward to explain. "Quinn's pregnancy was an accident."

Clara found his excuse laughable. "Did she force you? Simon, can't you at least own up to it? It's your kid."

Simon felt a wave of shame but couldn't let her go. "Aren't you even a bit upset?"

They were so close that from Dylan's perspective, it looked like they were hugging. Retracting his gaze, Dylan waited for the manager to wheel him out, then gave a slight wave. "Get back to work."

The manager usually avoided talking to Dylan. He felt like he had a mountain on his back today. Each step was drenched in cold sweat. Hearing Dylan, he felt a rush of relief. "Of course, Mr. Dylan, take care."

He kept bowing as he retreated, only straightening up once back in the lobby.

Dylan's wheelchair stopped beside a sleek black car, its door swinging open as Richard stepped out.

Richard was always a bit flashy. His shirt was never buttoned past the chest, but around Dylan, he was all caution. He set the car's ramp down, guiding the wheelchair up, then cast a glance back into the lobby.

From his angle, he could see Clara and Simon together. With a derisive snort, he said nothing, simply climbed into the car, and slammed the door shut with a resounding thud.