Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 116

Clara froze mid-step, a chill running down her spine, wondering if she’d misheard. But there was no mistaking the way Jackson closed the distance between them, his voice low and threatening just for her ears.

“You’re staying put, or else I’ll make your life hell. Not even Dylan can save you from me,” he warned, his eyes dark and menacing, the kind you'd expect from someone who ran in Dylan’s circles.

Clara frozen in place, a bitter taste rising in her throat. Thankfully, Dylan stepped in, his voice calm yet firm, “Jackson, it’s time for you to head home.”

Ignoring him, Jackson leaned in closer, whispering, “If I find out you’ve left, next time we meet, I’ll make sure you can’t walk away.”

What the heck! This guy was relentless! Clara wanted to snap back, maybe even flip him the bird, but her courage failed her. Instead, she forced a smile and hurried over to Dylan.

“Mr. Dylan, let me stay and help out. I’m really good at these things!” she pleaded, weighing the embarrassment against the stakes of her safety.

Jackson seemed content with her compliance, waving a hand as he left. “Dylan, I’m off. Got to find someone to keep me company tonight,” he said.

Dylan remained silent until Jackson was out of sight, then turned to Clara. “You should head home too.”

She shook her head, desperation in her eyes. “Mr. Dylan, I’m really good at taking care of people. Please, let me stay.”

She felt the heat of embarrassment rise, cursing Jackson inwardly for a thousandth time. Dylan paused in his wheelchair, giving her a thoughtful look. “Did he threaten you?”

“No, no, it’s my choice to stay,” she insisted. With Dylan, she sensed a kindness.

Kneeling beside him, she placed her hands gently on his knees. “I’m great at massages too. I could help you relax, and maybe you’d even fall asleep. Just think about giving me a small raise, I’m a bit short on cash these days.”

At her words, Dylan chuckled, a deep, genuine laugh that made his chest shake a little. ‘He looks even more handsome when he laughs,’ Clara thought, suddenly shy and avoiding his gaze.

With a light-hearted tone, Dylan maneuvered his wheelchair towards the elevator, “Alright, you can stay.”

Clara sighed in relief, trailing behind him. His routine was predictable; he headed to his study to tackle some paperwork. Clara stayed quiet, simply pouring him water when needed.