Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

"I was just helping out downstairs and left my phone there. Dylan, do you have yours on you?"

She walked over slowly, her voice soft, almost gentle. On the surface, she seemed genuinely worried about Dylan, but there was a playful glint in her eyes that gave her away.

The truth was, this drug had been specially requested by Kayla from her uncle. Last time, her uncle had failed to take out Clara and carried that guilt ever since. So when Kayla explained her plan, he handed over the most potent stuff he had.

Rumor had it that even a tiny dose could make any man lose his mind.

Dylan, for all his famous self-control, wasn't exactly in the best shape. No matter how strong his willpower, his body wouldn't be able to fight this off for long. A few minutes—that's all she needed.

And Tara was sure Kayla had more tricks up her sleeve. Otherwise, she'd be too naive for words.

She leaned in, reaching for Dylan's phone, her body inching closer to his—just enough to close the distance without making it obvious.

At first, Dylan just felt hot. But soon the heat was joined by a strange numbness, his limbs growing heavy, his movements slow. He tried to reach for his phone, but Tara was faster, easily snatching it up.

“I'll call them for you,” she offered. “You're not feeling well, and besides, the door won't open."

But just then, the phone slipped from her fingers and landed right at Dylan's feet.

She bent down to pick it up, her head almost brushing his knee. Dylan's expression changed instantly, his tone tight and dangerous. "Stay away from me."

His voice was low, the warning clear.

Tara pretended not to hear, leaning in even further to grab the phone. Suddenly, Dylan shoved her away. She stumbled, her hip smacking into the edge of the desk. The sharp pain made her jerk back, and she fell straight into his arms.

His face darkened. He was just about to push her away again when the door suddenly burst open.

Standing there were Mr. and Mrs. Ferguson, along with the rest of the Ferguson family. And of course, it was Kayla who'd opened the door.

Kayla covered her mouth, gasping in what looked like shock before rushing into the room. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!"

Mrs. Ferguson's face went from surprise to absolute delight. "Dylan, you finally figured it out, sweetheart!" Right behind her was Mrs. Warren from the Warren family. She'd come early, partly because she was close with Mrs. Ferguson, and partly to get a read on everyone's feelings about the match.

From where they stood, Tara looked disheveled, half-collapsed in Dylan's lap, while Dylan just sat there, tense and clearly struggling. You didn't have to be a genius to guess what everyone thought was going on.

Mrs. Ferguson clapped her hands. “This is wonderful! Double the happiness today!"

Kayla just sneered from the sidelines. Double happiness? In a few minutes, this so-called celebration would turn into a nightmare.

Dylan had dared to hurt her eldest son, and thanks to him, her second son was now an outcast in the Ferguson family. It was time for Dylan to pay.

The rest of the room could only stare, exchanging confused looks. Tara, looking startled, quickly pulled away from Dylan.

In reality, they hadn't even touched. But the way everyone was positioned made it look exactly the way Tara wanted.

"It's not what you think,” Tara said quickly. “Dylan isn't feeling well. Something's wrong."

Mrs. Ferguson, undeterred, bustled forward and took Tara's hand. “With so many people here today, let's just make this official!"

But before she could finish, Walter cut in, turning to Dylan. "What's going on?"

Dylan was barely hanging on,

fighting the effects of the drug. He tried to speak, but suddenly coughed up Ood. His vision swam and he

slumped over, unconscious.

"Dylan!" someone shouted.

Instant chaos. People rushed forward in panic.

Mr. Ferguson's face went dark as he caught sight of an untouched bowl of soup on the table. He shot the butler a sharp look. "Check that out. Now."

A doctor was called in right away. After a quick exam, the doctor's face went pale.

Mr. Ferguson's worry only deepened. "What is it?"

The doctor wiped his brow

nervously. "Young Master Dylan has suffered from chronic insomnia, so his health is already weak. Now he's been drugged-something incredibly strong. He can't fight this off on willpower alone. He... he needs a woman's help to get through it."

Mr. Ferguson's face was like thunder. "Who did this? Whoever's responsible, speak up now!"

It had to be someone in the room. Security that day was tighter than ever—no way an outsider could've gottennoveldrama

in.

Mrs. Warren shot Tara a worried look, silently asking if it was her. Tara shook her head slightly, signaling she had nothing to do with it.

She wasn't stupid enough to try something like this.