Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 620

Dylan didn’t show up downstairs until the evening of the fourth day.

The house staff rushed to bring him something to eat, but he barely touched it. After a few bites, he just sat there, staring out the window, completely lost in thought. No one really knew what to say to him, so everyone just kept quiet and tiptoed around, trying not to disturb him.

Later, he rolled his wheelchair out to the lawn, stopping at a spot where the grass was patchy and uneven. Clara used to play here—she’d tug at the grass, pulling it out without even realizing. Dylan stared at that bare patch for ages, his mind somewhere far away, until he heard footsteps behind him.

It was Aiden.

Aiden sounded a little unsure. “Mr. Petersen, Mrs. Ferguson heard about Clara going missing. She wants you to go to Tara’s welcome party tonight.”

The Warren family had postponed everything after Ada’s funeral, but now the party was back on—right when Clara was missing. To the families, the timing almost felt too convenient.

Dylan just gave a quiet, “Okay,” his face completely unreadable.

Aiden followed him inside, then hesitated before saying, “You should try to eat a little more. If you pass out at the party, everyone in the Capital will be talking.”

People were already gossiping about his marriage to Clara. He’d posted something on social media, but Mrs. Ferguson had brushed it off in public, calling it a joke. Everyone was watching tonight. Tara was definitely the star of the show.

Dylan waited until seven to finally head over to the Warren estate. By then, the place was already lively and packed with guests.

Tara herself came out to greet him.

Her eyes lit up when she saw him. She leaned in, saying something softly, and they walked into the grand hall together. To everyone there, they looked like the perfect couple.

Mrs. Warren watched them, clearly pleased. She gave Richard a pat on the back. “You and Dylan are so close. Talk to him when you get a chance, will you? This marriage is practically a done deal—no need to make things difficult for anyone.”

Richard just smiled politely, swirling his wine. “I try, but he’s not a kid anymore. He should get to decide who he marries.”

He glanced over at Dylan.

Dylan looked pale that night, but with so many Warren elders around, he had to play along, accepting drinks and making small talk. The family hierarchy was obvious. Tara stayed close to him, and when she saw how unwell he looked, she stepped in and took the drinks for him.

“Dylan hasn’t been feeling well lately. I’ll drink this one for him,” she said smoothly.

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