Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Casey was thrown into a whirlwind of panic, his face turning ghostly pale. "Mr. Dylan, what are you doing? I came here as a friend to warn you about Clara, and this is how you thank me?"

In an instant, a sharp blade sliced through three of his fingers, drawing a scream from him as he convulsed in agony.

Dylan set his drink down, a trace of amusement dancing in his eyes. "So, tell me, what kind of person do you think she is?"

Casey quickly realized that Dylan was standing up for Clara. Everything was the opposite of what Simon had led him to believe!

His lips blanched as he tried to say something to calm this devil's fury, but before he could, he heard the chilling sound of a gun cocking.

Casey's pants were wet, and cold sweat was streaming down his face. "Mr. Dylan, I'm sorry. It's all a big misunderstanding, really. Those photos? They are fake. I didn't dare lay a finger on Clara. It was Jade who talked me into this, and Simon's no saint either."

“Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!"noveldrama

Four bullets tore into his leg, leaving him unable to scream. In his deepest pain, his body could only spasm, his voice caught in his throat.

Dylan's movements were deliberate yet graceful. "Go on."

Casey was beyond words. His legs were shaking, and a puddle formed beneath him.

Only now did he fully grasp the terror that was Dylan.

Dylan, just as Simon had said, rarely lost his temper, but the calmer he was, the scarier he became.

After all twelve bullets were spent, a smudge of blood marked Dylan's cheek. His long lashes fluttered as he reached out, wiping it clean with his fingertip.

Casey was now a bloody mess, lifeless.

Dylan handed the gun to someone nearby, maneuvering his wheelchair toward the exit.

Just as he left the chamber, Richard's voice echoed. "Twelve bullets isn't your limit. That's the gun's limit, right?"

Richard stood with his arms crossed, his outfit as bold as ever, showing off a generous patch of skin.

Dylan moved forward, and Richard followed, muttering a few words. "Yesterday, you were too reckless. Do you know how long it took me to erase the surveillance footage? Now everyone's watching, thinking you'll be stuck in that wheelchair for life. Yet, in front of her, you don't hide anything. Aren't you worried she might blab?"

If this secret got out, it would surely create chaos. Clara herself didn't realize that Dylan had already entrusted her with his most vital secret.

Dylan pulled out a pristine white handkerchief, wiping the blood from his elegant fingers. His expression remained calm as he tossed the handkerchief into a nearby trash can.

"I'm wondering if she will."

Richard raised an eyebrow and let out a chuckle. Neither spoke further.

Clara sat in her room, an inexplicable chill running down her spine. She shivered and then asked Addison for more information about Jade.

After returning from South Ashford, Addison had been singing Clara's praises, only to be met with ridicule, as no one believed her. Now, with a chance to finally help Clara, she was eager to step up.

"Jade? Oh, I know her. She's seeing someone now, but she's hiding a kid from him. The guy's family is pretty well-off; he's even picked her up from work before."

Addison had stumbled upon the existence of Jade's child during a casual outing. The kid was only nine and already a troublemaker. He was caught shoplifting and reprimanded by the store manager. He'd even groped a girl and got slapped for it.

A nine-year-old already acting like a scoundrel probably took after his dad. Clara raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on her lips. She had an idea of how to handle Jade.

In the evening, Jade was having a date with her boyfriend at a restaurant. Though she claimed independence, she craved a family; otherwise, she wouldn't have been sweet-talked into having a child at nineteen, a secret she kept even now.

She'd been with her current boyfriend for six months and planned to keep things under wraps until marriage and pregnancy made it irreversible. Then she'd reveal the child.

Whenever she went on a date, she left her child at a nearby table. She loathed the kid, who was nothing but a financial drain. If she dared, she would've rid herself of him long ago, freeing herself from the burden.

Their relationship was poor, but the child seemed to inherit his father's vile traits and was nice to whoever gave him money. So, their interactions were somewhat peaceful.

The boy was sitting in the restaurant when a lady sat beside him. He wanted to splash the water in his cup onto her face. He just loved seeing people in pain.

Just as he was about to act, the lady spoke, "Your mom's hiding you from her boyfriend. Once she's married and has a baby, she plans to send you away." The boy shot up instantly. "What bullshit are you spouting?!"

He recalled his mother's derogatory terms for girls and began to mimic her. "Whore, watch out, or I'll kill you!"

Clara smiled at him. "If you don't believe me, go ask her yourself."