Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Recently, Aaron had been dealing with some mysterious injuries and was in the process of recovering from a pretty serious wound. He didn't seem keen on talking about it, though; his mood turned somber, and he went quiet.

Meanwhile, Simon was wandering around the second floor, feeling lost. Most of the rooms were private, and he had no clue which door he should knock on.

Clara, on the other hand, suddenly found herself in an unfamiliar room. She leaned heavily against the door, her eyelashes fluttering with each breath. She realized the person beside her wasn't Z, and instinctively moved to push them away. But as soon as her hand met the stranger's skin, a hidden longing sparked to life. She didn't mind the closeness at all.noveldrama

She tried to make out the stranger's face, but the dim light made it impossible. Taking a deep breath, she gathered herself and attempted to move forward. Instead, she accidentally pushed the door open, stumbling back into the room full of guests.

Behind her, a man's voice said, "I'll have someone take you home." The sound of a wheelchair approaching was unmistakable, and a gentle hand rested on her wrist. "Don't open the door, they'll see you."

Startled, Clara glanced down at him. His face was captivating, and the warmth of his touch was almost intoxicating. Their eyes locked; his gaze was cool yet somehow inviting.

He chuckled softly, saying something that sent her mind spinning. By the time she snapped back to reality, she was sitting on his lap, cradling his face, kissing him with an intensity that surprised even her. Her red lipstick left a mark on his otherwise impassive lips.

When he turned his head away, Clara wasn't having it; she pulled him back. The room fell silent, the open door revealing their unexpected display to everyone outside. Shocked murmurs and the sound of shattering glasses filled the air. Dylan, taking in the scene, quietly said, "Ms. Clara, you're drunk." Her lips brushed his collar, and she looked up, dazed, "What?"

His gaze was elsewhere. "You'll regret this when you're sober."

The commotion drew the attention of others, who quickly moved to pull Clara off Dylan's lap. Clara seemed out of her mind; this was Dylan, after all-the untouchable Dylan. Since his accident, he rarely appeared at events like these, and no one expected Clara to end up in his lap.

Just as they approached, Aiden, who had been observing from the sidelines, stepped in. He walked confidently toward Dylan. "Mr. President, are you okay?"

Dylan shook his head, shrugging off his blazer and placing it over Clara's shoulders. Aiden dutifully closed the side door, shielding them from the prying eyes.

Clara stayed perched on Dylan's lap, occasionally planting soft kisses on his neck. Dylan seemed to have accepted the situation, not saying much.

Aiden, not daring to look too closely, whispered, "There's another exit at the back." Dylan gave a soft, acknowledging hum. "Go open it."

Aiden quickly moved to the far side of the room. As soon as he left, Dylan gently lifted Clara's chin with his fingers. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked at him with a dazed expression.

He smiled suddenly, "Well, this is unexpected."