Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 307

Realizing she had asked a question she shouldn't have, she quickly leaned in and pressed her lips to his.

But he turned his head slightly, a playful tone in his voice, “What did you remember?”

“Nothing, just you on my mind.”

“Really?”

“Mmm, really.”

His lips curled into a pleased smile, and he turned back, letting her kiss him again. Clara let out a relieved breath as he drew her into another round of passion.

Afterward, she felt drained and nestled into his arms, drifting off into a restless sleep. Her dreams were a jumble, a shadowy figure gently calling her name, Clara, like a soft spring rain.

She furrowed her brow, tossing and turning with the memory flashing through her mind—don’t trust Dylan.

Dylan...

She felt like she was burning in a sea of flames, a soft hand wiping away her sweat. She turned over, trying to escape the fire, only to be pulled back, his arms wrapping around her like vines.

“Dylan...”

She called out, snapping awake, sitting up and gasping for air. The arm around her waist froze, and a soft voice asked, “Who are you calling?”

Clara swallowed, scrambling for an excuse as she was still tangled up in the dream. She lowered her lashes, hearing him ask again, “Who were you calling?”

Clara claimed she was seeing her boyfriend, but she wasn’t headed towards Palm Bay. Her boyfriend wasn’t Dylan, so how could Dylan just sit back? He glanced at the nearly blank report, his eyes darkening.

Just as he was about to call Clara for another meeting, someone rushed in, breathless. “Sir, our shipment at the docks has been seized.”

Aaron’s expression changed instantly. That shipment was highly discreet, with a third of his assets invested in it. How could it be seized suddenly? He took a deep breath, convinced this was Dylan’s doing to keep him from seeing Clara.

He quickly got up to leave, but paused, chuckling softly, “Send this photo to Clara.”

He pulled out a photograph from the drawer. The photo was blurry, showing two figures, one unmistakably Dylan. Dylan’s leg was still fine then, holding a gun pointed at another person. But that person was just a silhouette in the photo.

The scene was shrouded in mist, the surroundings bleak. The only reason Dylan was recognizable was his unmistakable aura.