Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Even the fire department couldn't find anything-someone must have warned them ahead of time.

Clara slid all the way down in the bathtub, letting the water swallow her, hoping it might clear her head.

Suddenly, she shot upright, dragging her wet hair out of the water, gasping for air.

She didn't dare let her thoughts drift to Dylan. She was scared-scared it really was him.

Did her leaving make Dylan feel threatened? Did he think his pride or power was under attack? Is that why Z ended up dead-to teach her a lesson?

But the Dylan she knew wasn't petty, and he definitely wasn't the type to throw his weight around like that.

Still, another voice in her mind wouldn't let it go: Z was so quiet, who could she possibly have crossed? All this trouble had only started after Clara showed up. And the only person she'd upset lately was Dylan.

She remembered the look in his eyes when she walked out-barely restrained, with something wild simmering underneath.

During those two days in the mountains, that look haunted her. With eyes like that, Dylan seemed capable of anything.

She washed her face with hot water and stepped out of the tub, drying off mechanically, like she was on autopilot.

There was a knock at the door.

"Sweetheart, I'm still worried about you," the landlady called. "So I had someone make you some herbal soup and a few nice dishes. I've left them at your door. Try to eat something, okay?"

Clara opened the door. Her hair clung to her shoulders, still dripping.

The landlady caught the rosy steam on Clara's face, eyes widening for a second. No wonder everyone fussed over this girl-she was honestly prettier than a celebrity.

She set the food on the little table. "There's no kitchen in here, but there's a microwave, brand new. Dry your hair, okay? Don't catch a cold. Oh, and that hairdryer I bought you what's it called? Anyway, I'll never understand how a hairdryer can cost thousands. I've lived my whole life and never seen the like! But your guy gave me so much, I just bought the fanciest one. Use it, alright? Dry your hair properly."

She nudged the plates closer. "You're lucky, you know. It's not worth dying here. I'd feel terrible. Every time I come to check on you, I'm scared you won't answer. My friend's hotel lost a girl once she fought with her boyfriend, cut her wrists. Now the room's haunted."

Clara tried to smile, but the muscles in her face refused to cooperate.

The landlady might have taken the money, but she really did care. Clara couldn't help but ask, “So, how much did he give you?"

The landlady looked a little embarrassed, coughed, and held up one finger.

Clara raised an eyebrow. "A hundred thousand?" Did Z even have that much? Her chest tightened, a dull ache creeping in. She didn't say another word. Seeing Clara go quiet, the landlady just sighed and shuffled out. "So eat something, okay? Get your strength back. Wait for him to pick you up."

e'noveldrama

After she left, the landlady shook her head in wonder. These rich kids-hear their boyfriend spent a million and didn't even blink. Like a million bucks was pocket change. Must be some heiress out here for the experience. No wonder everyone fussed.

Clara dried her hair, staring for a moment at the fancy hairdryer, replaying the landlady's dramatic complaints in her head. For a second, something soft and bittersweet filled her heart.

The food still smelled good, but she'd eaten a huge bowl of soup not long ago. She just couldn't eat another bite.

She sat on the edge of the bed, lost in thought, her eyes fixed on the red bead bracelet circling her wrist.

They always said, as long as the bracelet stayed on, there was still hope for them. She never thought it would end up like this-separated by life and death.

She lowered her lashes and pressed the beaded wrist gently to her chest, as if that could quiet the ache inside her.