Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Her leg brushed against Dylan's by accident, and she instinctively caught herself on his knee, avoiding what could have been a full-on collision. Clara glanced up and locked eyes with him-his gaze was calm, yet filled with an intense undercurrent.

Suddenly, Dylan gripped her wrist, the warmth of his touch spreading like a wildfire across her skin. "Don't forget the flowers," he reminded her, his voice steady.

"Yes, of course," she replied, trying to steady her racing heart.

He let his gaze linger on her for a few seconds longer before skillfully turning his wheelchair and leaving. It was as if flowers meant more to him than any pricey gift could.noveldrama

Clara sat there, momentarily stunned, the warmth from his grip still tingling on her skin. It felt like invisible vines were wrapping around her wrist, pulling her deeper into uncharted waters. She looked down, rubbing her wrist absentmindedly.

Meanwhile, Dylan headed downstairs, where a sleek black car was waiting. Richard was already inside, lowering the window as Dylan approached. "The Sinclair family's Christmas must be quite the event, right? Are all the relatives coming back?" he asked, casually resting his head on his hand.

Walter's eldest son, Michael, had been sidelined due to a scandal, but there were still his other sons, John and Lucius-Aaron's father. This family was no walk in the park, especially with a bunch of extended relatives always stirring things up. The Sinclair gatherings were never dull.

Dylan seemed lost in thought, gazing out the window and not really engaging in the conversation. Richard took a deep breath, continuing, "And those abroad- plenty of eyes are on you. It might be best to keep a low profile."

Before Richard could finish, Dylan closed his eyes and softly said, "Leave her alone."

Caught off guard, Richard hesitated, then cracked his knuckles. "When have I ever bothered her?"

"Don't, not now, not ever," Dylan replied.

Rubbing his brow, Richard leaned back. "I don't intend to. But after that scene at the gala, you know how many people are watching her now? Sometimes I just can't figure out your game plan."

Dylan glanced up just as Clara emerged from the building, his gaze softening. Richard, still waiting for an answer, noticed the change and sighed, instructing the driver, "Let's go."

The car began to move slowly.

Clara, after leaving the building, drove to a florist, hoping to find some vibrant red flowers. Unfortunately, they only had yellow winter jasmine, and the specific red she was looking for was nowhere to be found. After striking out at three different shops, she called Cole, hoping he might have a lead on some wild cherry blossoms around the outskirts.

Cole, busy with paperwork, answered. "Ms. Bradford, there are many kinds of blossoms. What exactly do you need?"

Clara thought back to the unique flowers she had seen before. "Pure crimson red, really vivid."

"Sounds like the elusive crimson cherry blossom. They're hard to come by. A few years ago, during a business trip with your dad, we spotted some at a manor outside the city. But here's the catch-these blossoms are pretty much monopolized by a mysterious owner. Even the biggest flower market down south can't get them. Apparently, all the best ones are planted at a private estate nearby. No one knows who owns it, though. I'll send you the address-maybe you'll get lucky?"

Without questioning her sudden floral quest, Cole sent her the address.

As luck would have it, the estate was just a few miles from where Z lived. But Z's place was pretty remote-who would grow cherry blossoms out there? Still, Clara decided to take a chance and see if she could find what she was looking for. She couldn't afford to break another promise to Dylan.