Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

No one saw it coming-not even Clara. She barely had time to react.

The sharp sting of the bullet shot through her shoulder, and for a second, she just stared at the spot, numb, then looked up at Tara, who stood there calm as ever, completely unfazed.

For a split second, Clara couldn't help but think how much Tara reminded her of Dylan. That same icy confidence, that unshakeable cool. No wonder Mrs. Ferguson adored her as a daughter-in-law. It wasn't just the music or painting- Tara could handle a gun like she'd been born for it.

Tara had definitely had professional training.

With the ghost of a smirk, Tara's eyes flashed with something sharp-almost mocking before she slid her gun away. She turned to Mrs. Ferguson. "Mrs. Ferguson, the sedative in the bullet will kick in soon. Should we take her now?"

Clara tried to move, but her limbs felt like lead. Panic started to rise as she realized she couldn't even lift her hand. Two bodyguards were already heading right for her.

Mrs. Ferguson was on her feet, ready to leave with Clara in tow.

But then, just as everything seemed locked in, the mysterious figure from that night reappeared, cloaked in black.

He seemed to materialize from the shadows, moving fast, and swept Clara into his arms. Without missing a beat, he tossed a smoke grenade to the ground. The room filled with thick, swirling smoke, and just like that they were gone.

Clara couldn't move, her senses smothered by the drug. Everything was foggy, her mind drifting in and out, but she felt herself being carried, then gently lowered onto a long velvet chaise in a dim, underground room.

The man in black knelt beside her, holding a small vial of clear liquid to her lips. "Say something."

His voice was rough and low, almost broken, and his hands were hidden behind black gloves.

Clara closed her eyes, waiting for the drug to wear off. When she could finally speak, her voice was barely a whisper. "Aren't you worried Dylan will be furious, after what you did to Mrs. Ferguson?"

The man let out a breath, like he'd been holding it forever, but didn't answer. He just stood up and slipped away, melting into the darkness.

Clara still couldn't move, so she leaned back and just rested, letting everything fade for a while.

Back at the scene, the smoke was clearing. The only thing left was the canister smoldering on the floor. Tara helped steady Mrs. Ferguson, her voice soft. "Mrs. Ferguson,¶ don't think today's going to work out. We'll have to come back another time."

Mrs. Ferguson looked frustrated, but there was something almost proud in her

eyes. "Dylan's really grown up, hasn't he?"

He used to be so easygoing, so bright-just being around him made you feel better, like he was a little sun. But now, he was moody and distant) The weight of the Ferguson family's success must have gotten to him.

Well, growing up changes people. Maybe being a little tough wasn't the worst thing.

Tara smiled. "Dylan's going to be all right, no matter what."noveldrama

Mrs. Ferguson gave her a knowing look. "Tara, you still care about that boy, don't you?"

Tara's smile softened. "Yeah. I do."

Outside, Tara helped Mrs. Ferguson into the car. She leaned in, her voice low.

"Mrs. Ferguson, wait for me here. I need to talk to someone I know."

Mrs. Ferguson sighed, rubbing her temples. "Go ahead, but don't be long-ten minutes, max. Dylan's bound to hear about what happened, and need to come up with @story so he doesn't get mad at you."

Dylan was a mystery to her these days-she wasn't sure he still listened.

Tara headed back inside, slipping behind a pillar in the hall. Sure enough, the shadowy figure was there, hidden in the dark.

Hat pulled down, mask up, gloves on-he was almost impossible to recognize.

He looked over, and even though only his eyes showed, she could see the relief- and maybe a little happiness-there.

Tara folded her arms, raising a brow. "Come here."

He walked over slowly, and as soon as he was close enough, she slapped him across the face.

His head jerked to the side, and for a second, he just stood there. Then he looked down, his voice small. "I... I messed up."