Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Clara's lips twitched into a faint smile-finally, a chance to get out of the house.noveldrama

"Yes, Mrs. Ferguson, you don't have to worry. I can divorce Dylan anytime." Her tone was so casual, it almost sounded like she was talking about canceling a lunch date instead of ending a marriage.

Mrs. Ferguson hadn't even started her usual threats, and Clara had already tossed "divorce" on the table like it was nothing. The air in the room shifted, tense and crackling. Mrs. Ferguson had expected a fight, but Clara was playing a completely different game.

Mrs. Ferguson narrowed her eyes. "You'd really go through with it?"

"Mrs. Ferguson, Dylan only married me because he needed a stand-in. It could have been anyone. He doesn't love me, and I don't love him. We both have our own feelings for other people. There's nothing to hold onto here. Honestly, this marriage has never felt real to me."

She remembered how lost Dylan looked last night, like he'd been hit by something he couldn't shake off.

It was obvious-Dylan respected Mrs. Ferguson too much to stand up to her, especially when it involved Tara.

Clara thought she'd made her intentions clear, but Mrs. Ferguson just let out a cold, quiet laugh.

"No wonder Dylan chose you. You're good at reading people. But I'm not so easily fooled, Clara. I'm not like everyone else you can't get rid of me with a few pretty words."

Clara's expression darkened. So what did Mrs. Ferguson really want?

Turning to Tara, Mrs. Ferguson patted her hand like she was comforting a prized possession.

"Clara, Tara is everything you're not-talented, accomplished, and practically born to be the next Mrs. Ferguson. She's an architectural genius, plays piano, paints, speaks three languages-she's been trained for this role her whole life. She's the daughter-in-law I want. If Dylan insists on marrying you, he'll only make himself miserable. His place in this family isn't just about him—everyone he loves has suffered for his success. If you're the reason it all falls apart, can you really live with that?"

She paused, eyes cool. "I heard Simon has always liked you. I talked to him last night-he said your past doesn't bother him. If you marry Simon, you'll cut things off with Dylan for good."

So it wasn't enough just to divorce Dylan-Mrs. Ferguson wanted her to marry Simon, too.

Clara pressed her lips together, feeling like a pawn in someone else's chess game, her fate handed off from one player to another. The whole thing left her feeling small and powerless.

Mrs. Ferguson was clearly done being patient, her gaze sharp as a knife.

"Are you saying yes or no? Dylan's with his father today-they have important family business to handle.

He'll be tied up until at least noon and won't see his phone. Don't expect any rescue."

The threat behind her words was obvious: if Clara didn't agree, anything could happen before Dylan had a chance to step in.

"Mrs. Ferguson, as I said, I can divorce Dylan. But who I marry is my own

business. I'm just a regular person-I never wanted to get dragged into the Ferguson family drama."

"You? Regular?" Mrs. Ferguson snorted. "You must be something special if Dylan married you willingly. Enough with the innocent act. Bring her in."

At that, a dozen bodyguards filed in, each one looking like they'd walked straight out of a spy movie.

It was only then, with the doors to the living room open, that Clara realized Mrs. Ferguson's people and Dylan's people were already facing off, the tension heavy in the air. She hadn't noticed with the doors shut before.

The guards started to move in, but Dylan's men blocked their way.

Mrs. Ferguson slammed her teacup down, shattering it against the floor. "How dare you!"

The room seemed to shrink under

the weight of her anger. She glared at Dylan's men, still standing firm.

"Dylan is my son. I planned out his whole future, every step. He wouldn't dare defy me-so who do you think you are?"

Her words hung in the air, but Dylan's people didn't budge.

Mrs. Ferguson's face flushed with rage. "Tara!" she snapped.

Tara nodded slightly, reached into her bag, and before anyone could react, she

pulled out a gun and aimed it straight at Clara. Then she pulled the trigger.