Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 245

Clara never really thought about digging into her memory loss. As she massaged her temples, she saw another message from Simon flash on her phone.

"I'll keep looking into it. Don't worry. Just be careful when you're out. I have a feeling someone might be tailing you."

Clara got out of bed and rifled through her closet, pulling out some certificates she brought with her. Each one demanded a high level of skill, making her realize she couldn’t have been just an ordinary person before. It was clear she needed to investigate that so-called accident.

The next morning, as she stepped into Ferguson Corporation, she bumped into Lincoln. He’d been showing up a lot lately, always wearing that sly grin.

He followed Clara to the break room and asked, “I heard Dylan took you out for a meal and is still at home recuperating?”

Clara knew she had to tread carefully around him to avoid him targeting Z.

“Yes.”

“He must trust you a lot. Would he eat anything you give him, even if you spiked his food with something extra?”

Clara frowned, wondering what he was up to.

Lincoln pulled out a small white bottle and slowly placed it in her hand. “Long-term use of what's in here will make someone lose their mind, become easily angered, and eventually lead to madness or even death from heart failure.”

Clara’s face went pale. This guy was out for Dylan’s life.

She pushed the bottle back to him. “Mr. Dylan, do you think I’m stupid? This is plotting against the heir of the Ferguson family. Living peacefully in the Capital after this? Cedric alone would see to it that I wouldn’t.”

Suddenly, Lincoln's hand was around her throat, squeezing so hard she could barely breathe. This man really didn’t play by the rules and thought Clara was easy to manipulate.

“Clara, I’m not asking. If you don’t do it, your dad, your boyfriend, or your useless brother will face the consequences. Think it over.”

He let go of her, slipping the bottle into her pocket.

Clara clutched her neck, her mind racing. No way could she go through with this. Either she had to spill the beans to Dylan and get him to play along or…

Would Dylan, raised in such a cutthroat environment, really believe her?

As she moved to leave the break room, she found Lincoln waiting outside. True to his name, he looked every bit the polished gentleman, but his eyes were cold and calculating, like a viper’s.

“Clara, here’s a tip: even if it’s poison, Dylan would eat it from your hands.”

His words oozed mockery.