Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run novel Chapter 12

Simon tilted his head, disbelief washing over his face as his grip slackened for a moment. He touched his cheek, taking a few moments to process what had just happened. Clara had never slapped him before; she'd always preferred to bear the brunt of any pain herself rather than let him suffer. Just now, she had embarrassed him in front of everyone in the lounge.

He had a faint sense that something had shifted. But then Clara asked, "Does it hurt?" That question reignited his confidence. She was just putting on an act and trying to catch his attention! Of course, Clara was head over heels for him; she couldn't possibly leave him!

Taking a deep breath, he said, "Let's see how long you can keep this up."

Clara leaned against the wall, waiting until she was alone before rubbing her uneasy stomach. When he had grabbed her throat earlier, she had almost thrown up. The alcohol she had consumed was now wreaking havoc. Her stomach was bloated and aching.

She quickly changed her clothes and barely stepped out of the Moonlight's grand entrance when a forceful grip yanked her back. Colton kicked her in the stomach, malice etched on his face. "Weren't you so smug just a moment ago?"

Clara wiped the corner of her mouth, a bit amused. Colton had lost five million in the lounge, and was now ambushing her here. Truly pathetic. Anyone hanging out with Simon was the same—trash.

Colton moved in quickly, grabbing her hair with such force it nearly tore her scalp. "Clara, you're nothing compared to Quinn. You're trash. What if I threw you onto Nate's bed? He'd be thrilled; he's been lusting after you for ages. Quinn said you upset her on her birthday. Watch yourself, or I'll have a few guys take turns with you and plaster your nudes everywhere."

The moment Quinn shed a tear, Colton would move mountains for her. Wherever Quinn pointed, Colton struck. He looked down at the disheveled Clara in his grip with a cold sneer on his lips. "Don't make Quinn mad again, or you'll regret it."

He released her with a huff and walked away without a backward glance. Clara's scalp burned, and her stomach ached. Colton didn't hold back from hitting girls. She chose not to provoke him earlier to avoid worse consequences.

Slowly, she picked herself up, her stomach churning until she couldn't hold back anymore, vomiting as her eyes welled up with tears. At least Colton was right. Even with her memory gone, Clara was painfully aware that she was indeed a nobody, and no one gave a damn about her.

The car started moving slowly. She sat properly and gave her current address. Dylan spoke, "That’s close to Ferguson Corporation."

"Yes, I plan to work at Ferguson Corporation." As for the reason behind that, she decided not to mention it, fearing she’d be thrown out immediately. As soon as she spoke, the temperature in the car dropped, a chill creeping over her.

For the rest of the ride, Dylan closed his eyes, not saying another word. Clara frowned, feeling like she had hit a nerve, yet unsure of what exactly she had said wrong. When the car reached her place, she got out, and politely thanked him, "Thank you, Mr. Dylan. Maybe someday... I'll treat you to dinner?"

Dylan's gaze lingered on her face for a few seconds before turning away coldly. Clara felt the sting of rejection and revealed an awkward smile. She stood still, expecting him to drive off immediately, but then he called out, "Clara."

Instinctively, she responded with a "Yes?" But the window rolled up, and the car drove away.