She hesitated for a few seconds before finally telling the truth.
“You got punished by the family—was it because Walter found out we got married? You’re basically untouchable in the Ferguson family. If anyone could break through your security at Palm Bay, it’d have to be Walter. He might go easy on you, but me? He’d get rid of me in a heartbeat. I want to leave, but I have to stay alive first.”
Dylan rested a hand on her wrist, then gently pinched her cheek. It didn’t hurt—it almost felt like a quiet kind of affection.
Clara quickly brushed his hand away, giving him a weird look and wiping her cheek as if he’d left a mark.
Dylan’s lips curved into a small smile, but it faded as fast as it appeared. He called Aiden over and gave a simple order: “Check it out.”
Less than ten minutes later, they heard noises from downstairs.
Dylan got into his wheelchair and Clara, almost out of habit, moved behind him to push as they rode the elevator down.
Two men were kneeling in the foyer, shaking all over when they heard the wheelchair approach.
One of them started babbling, “Sir, we really didn’t have a choice, please believe us.”
Even as he begged, he kept glancing at Clara out of the corner of his eye.
When Dylan and Clara got closer, the man suddenly whipped out a gun and aimed it straight at Clara.
Clara didn’t even think—she just reacted, yanking Dylan down with her and diving behind the sofa.
Bang!
The shot rang out, but it wasn’t from the man’s gun. Someone else had fired first.
The man never got the chance to pull the trigger—he was taken out by a bullet from somewhere farther away.
Clara heard the gunshot, but she had no idea who’d been hit. Instinctively, she started checking Dylan for injuries, her hands searching for blood.
Dylan saw the worry on her face, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. Then, without warning, he wrapped his arms tight around her, pulling her close like he wanted to blend her right into himself.
Clara was still panicking, worried he’d been shot, but suddenly being hugged like that made her feel like she was tangled up in thick vines, squeezed so tight she could barely breathe.
She was just about to push him away when he stood up first, pulling her up with him.
Meanwhile, the two men were now pinned face-down on the floor, completely subdued. The gun had been kicked aside and lay quietly by the coffee table.
Clara picked it up and realized the magazine was still full. The man hadn’t even fired a shot.
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