Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 129

Eden was in her early twenties and had a surprising fierceness about her. Clara kicked out, sending Eden stumbling to the side. Still unsatisfied, Eden reached for another vase on the cabinet.

"Why don't you just go to hell!"

Before she could bring the vase down, a voice cut through the tension.

"What are you doing?"

Eden froze, looking up to find Dylan in his wheelchair.

"Dylan!"

Wasn't he supposed to be at work?

Dylan's brow furrowed as he took in Clara clutching her injured palm. His voice turned a shade colder.

"What’s going on here?"

Eden hurriedly set the vase down and rushed to his side.

"Dylan, why did you let this bitch into Palm Bay? Have you forgotten that your leg's like this because of her? She’s the reason my brother lost his child. I hate her so much. Why doesn't she just kill herself!" Her words came out more frantic, anger flushing her face as she knelt before Dylan.

Dylan shifted slightly, clearly not keen on physical contact. "Who let you in?"

"I came on my own. Dylan, you can't stop me. Clara must pay for what she did to my brother's child."

Dylan’s tone was icy as he instructed Aiden, who was standing nearby, "Show her out."

Eden's eyes widened in shock, and after a moment, she stood with a pale face.

"Dylan..."

But the bodyguard was already at her back.

She shot Clara a venomous glare, stomped her foot in frustration, and reluctantly left.

Clara wasn't sure if she imagined it, but Eden's demeanor towards Dylan seemed off. The way she looked at him wasn't how you'd look at an elder.

She lowered her lashes, pressing her wounded palm to stifle the pain.

Dylan wheeled himself closer, gently taking her wrist to check it.

Clara suddenly asked, "Is Eden adopted?"

Without memories of her past, she wasn't sure. But she could read the way women looked at men, and Eden's gaze towards Dylan was brimming with possessiveness. When Dylan appeared, the delight, anticipation, and imagined intimacy were all too obvious.

Dylan wheeled into the living room, and Clara followed slowly, feeling a strange unease.

Dylan fetched a first aid kit before finally answering her earlier question.

"I found her on the roadside years ago. I’m not one for raising kids, so someone else took her in."

That someone was Ada, making Eden Simon's sister.

"I’ll go check it out now. Thank you, Mr. Dylan!"

Dylan said nothing and just watched as her small hand clasped his.

Clara didn’t notice and quickly let go, rushing towards the door. As she reached it, she heard Dylan murmur, "You always do this."

His voice was soft, almost like a whisper.

She paused, turning back with a puzzled look. "What?"

"Nothing."

Clara flashed him a bright smile. "If I can sort this out, I'll keep being your sleeping aid, Mr. Dylan. I asked the housekeeper this morning, and she said you’ve struggled with insomnia for ages. But these past few days, you’ve slept well. Do I still have a purpose?"

Her smile was so genuine, warm, and inviting.

Dylan, however, didn’t meet her gaze, responding with a faint "Hmm."

Clara sighed. Dylan was truly reserved. It was hard to believe someone so stoic could harbor a secret love, remaining devoted even after his beloved's passing for years. He was indeed the best man in the world.

Before chatting with the housekeeper, she hadn’t realized how serious Dylan's insomnia was. After all, he had slept well these past few days and looked much healthier.

No wonder Jackson, despite his distain, tolerated her presence when he noticed Dylan could sleep near her.

But what kind of aura did she have to create such a miraculous effect? How did she help Dylan fall asleep quickly? Thinking about it, she felt a hint of pride.