Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 350

Clara froze for a moment, remembering how intense things always got with Z. She was always careful afterward, so getting pregnant seemed out of the question.

She lowered her lashes, tugging at her lip. “I doubt it. We took precautions.”

Her straightforwardness in saying this showed she really had no feelings left for Simon.

Simon’s fingers curled a bit at his side before he pulled out a check for half a million dollars.

“Emily came clean to Dylan last night. He asked someone to pass this along to you and has arranged for a specialist from abroad. Those whip marks shouldn’t leave scars. Do you need to head to the hospital?”

Clara glanced at the check, imagining Dylan’s calm, detached demeanor.

Getting whipped wasn’t ideal, but the money made it a bit more bearable.

She tucked the check away, managing a smile. “Please thank Mr. Dylan for me.”

Simon, trying to ease her discomfort, offered some advice. “Emily’s been his favorite for a long time. I’d suggest keeping your distance; with Dylan backing her, she’s capable of anything.”

Clara bowed her head, rinsed her mouth, and splashed her face with water to regain her composure. “Got it.”

For now, she’d have to swallow this loss.

But the itching from her healing wounds was driving her crazy. She wanted to scratch them so badly.

And then Eden sent a threatening message.

“If you get close to Dylan again, things will get worse.”

Annoyed, Clara blocked the number.

Back home, after three days of resting up, Z sent her a text saying he wanted to drop by.

With nothing else going on while she was healing, she agreed.

Z always seemed to arrive with the night, reminding Clara of the cave from her dreams.

It was nine at night, the lights were off, and she lay in bed, hearing the faint sounds of activity in the living room.

When he came in, the aroma of warm soup followed.

A spoonful of soup was gently offered to her lips.

Clara had only mentioned feeling unwell, not where specifically. Yet Z came to take care of her, which warmed her heart.

She wasn’t really hungry, but after a sip, she spoke up.

“I had this dream. In it, I was with a boy in a deep cave. He was dying, and I fed him with blood from my wrist.”

“Clatter.”