Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

He turned the two marriage certificates over in his hands, studying them for a long time. In the photo, his own lips were barely curved into a smile, while Clara's mouth drooped unmistakably downward.

But he didn't linger on their expressions. Instead, his eyes kept returning to their names, tracing the letters again and again.

The clerk stood nervously in front of him, dabbing sweat from his forehead with a tissue for what must have been the fifth time.

"Mr. Dylan, are you satisfied?" he asked, voice trembling.

Dylan lowered his gaze, lashes shadowing his eyes. "Yeah," he replied.

The clerk exhaled, relief flooding his face. Good-he's satisfied. Now please, let him leave before my legs give out.

Dylan finally tucked away the two red booklets and looked at Clara. "Let's go. Time to head home."

Clara hadn't moved at all, as if rooted to the spot. Who would've thought she'd end up married so quickly?

Dylan was already at the door, his tone as calm as ever. "Clara. Let's go."

Only then did she snap out of it and quietly follow him outside.

A line of men in black suits stood waiting, bodyguards forming a silent corridor and stepping aside as soon as they appeared.

Clara felt like she was walking through a dream where nothing was real, her legs heavy as stone with every step.

Back in the car, she sat with her head down, silent the whole way. As they neared Palm Bay, she couldn't hold it in any longer. "Mr. Dylan, do you plan to keep me locked up in the villa forever?"

"Until you learn to behave."

He said it so lightly, like it meant nothing.

But to her, it felt like the weight of a mountain crushing her chest.

Dylan wasn't just serious about this-he was so serious it was terrifying.

Clara's face went even paler. For once, she didn't even know how to respond.

She got out of the car and walked numbly into the house. The villa was alive with the sounds of staff preparing for dinner. When she passed, they all greeted her with a respectful, "Good evening, Mrs. Ferguson."

She stumbled a little. The whole thing felt even more surreal.

She sat on the sofa, watching as a maid brought her a cup of warm ginger tea.

"If you'd like anything special to eat, Mrs. Ferguson, just let us know," the maid said gently. "All the fruit in the kitchen was flown in fresh.”

Clara didn't answer, just watched as Dylan stepped into the elevator and disappeared upstairs.

She didn't even have the strength to try talking to him. What was the point? He never listened anyway.

So she sat there, hands wrapped around the cup, frozen in place.

Upstairs, Dylan pulled out the marriage certificates again and stared at them for another ten

minutes. Only when there was a netnoveldrama

knock at the door did he finally tuck them away in a hidden

compartment.

Aiden came in.

He hadn't said a word on the way to the registry office, playing the part of the perfect driver.

Now, he spoke up. "Your meeting tonight is all set. Are you heading out now, sir? Or will you be staying for dinner with Ms. Clara?"

Dylan glanced at the hidden compartment, his voice as calm as ever. "No. She won't eat if I'm there."

Aiden's heart clenched at that.

Downstairs, Clara had no idea how long she sat there before she saw Dylan and Aiden coming down the stairs, looking like they were about to leave.

She'd just tried to borrow a phone from one of the maids, but everyone shook their heads and avoided her. Clearly, they'd been warned not to help.

Clara looked away, silent as a statue.

Dylan didn't spare her a glance, heading straight for the door.

He made a quick stop at Ferguson Corporation. The company was already buzzing with post-holiday work, and he needed to set the direction for the year.

Every ten minutes, he'd pull out those two red booklets to look at them. He couldn't help bringing them along when he left his room.

One of the senior executives came in, spotting the marriage certificates in Dylan's hand and nearly doing a double take.

"Wait...Sir, did you get married?"

Dylan pressed his lips together, then nodded. "Yeah."

The executive had worked at Ferguson Corporation for years. Even when Dylan was overseas for two years, everyone had known who was really running the show. No one could help respecting him

But this? The CEO, always so cold and focused on work, suddenly married? No one had ever even seen him with a woman. Who was his wife?

"Congratulations, sir," the executive said, trying to recover. "Will Mrs. Ferguson be coming by the office? I can make sure everyone's ready to welcome her."

Those three words-Mrs. Ferguson-seemed to genuinely please Dylan.

The executive had always assumed this was just some arranged marriage from the Ferguson family, something the CEO didn't actually care about. After all, even

ve

billion-dollar contracts barely got a reaction out of him.

But hearing "Mrs. Ferguson" made his lips twitch up, just a little.