Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

The air in the room got heavy, tension crackling just beneath the surface.

No one wanted to be the first to speak. It wasn't that they didn't want to call Dylan out-everyone was thinking it—but no one knew for sure if this was the end for him or just another bump in the road. If they stepped out of line and Dylan came out ahead, they'd be the ones paying for it later.

Only Aaron dared to break the silence.

"Grandpa, the reason I haven't been around the Ferguson house lately is because Dylan's had me locked up. If your men hadn't dragged me here today, I'd still be locked away right now."

People started glancing at each other, whispers breaking out at last.

"Dylan, you've gone too far. No matter what Aaron did, he's still your nephew. How could you treat him like some kind of enemy?"

"Exactly. He's family, and you're supposed to set an example as an elder."

Aaron just snorted, a cold, bitter laugh. None of them had the guts to say what they really meant.

He shot to his feet, voice sharp and loud. "And another thing I think Dylan had something to do with my brother Lincoln's death!"

The room froze. Dead silent.

When Lincoln died, Walter himself had ordered an investigation, but it turned up nothing. After Aaron came back from overseas, he'd butted heads with Dylan again and again—always losing.

Now he was accusing Dylan of murder. Maybe he finally had proof.

Walter looked hard at Aaron, and for the first time, something flickered in his eyes. "Do you have evidence?"

Aaron dropped to his knees, steady and unafraid. "Dylan's in a rush to send Eden away—isn't that suspicious enough? Eden's stuck to him for years and never got close to anyone else. Who knows what she's been wrapped up in with Dylan? If you really want answers, Grandpa, stop Eden from leaving and have her tell everyone the truth-was Lincoln's death Dylan's doing?"

His words hit the room like a hammer.

And the thing was he was right. Eden really did know something about Lincoln's death.noveldrama

Walter's gaze moved to Dylan. After all these years, Dylan had never let anyone at the Ferguson estate see what he was really feeling. That unreadable calm made it impossible for Walter to tell what his youngest son was thinking.

Walter had seen enough storms in his life, but Dylan was the one mystery he could never solve.

He pressed his fingertips to his temples, brow furrowed tight. "Dylan, did you send Eden out of the country?"

Dylan nodded, brushing invisible lint from his sleeve, voice casual. "For the Ferguson family's reputation, I didn't have a choice."

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Aaron couldn't help but laugh, bitter and mocking. "What a hero you are, Dylan. Weren't you the one who leaked Eden's background in the first place? Stop pretending to be the good guy."

"Who says it was me?" Dylan's eyes swept the room, calm and steady. "Got any proof?"

The question hung in the air. Everyone looked at each other, but no one said a word.

Of course, they had nothing.

Aaron's face turned red with

frustration. He stood up fast, nearly shouting, "You're the only one in this family who knew about Eden's past! If it wasn't you, who else could it be?"

"My brother knew," Dylan said quietly.

Four little words, but the entire room snapped their attention to Michael.

Michael had looked uncomfortable from the start, and now his face burned red. But when he met Dylan's gaze, all his fight just drained away.

Walter's voice was stern and sharp. "Michael, did you know?"

Eden had been brought back almost twenty years ago. Maybe Dylan had told Michael something back then-but if he had, Michael definitely didn't remember.

Michael's face was hot with shame.

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He wanted to shout that Dylan was lying, that he was being set up, and doing it right out in the open. But the harder he thought, the less he could remember about what Dylan might have said all those years ago.

He'd always been the least impressive member of the Fergusons, and now he

couldn't even manage a single word.

No one was expecting anything from him anyway.

Walter's face grew even darker. He slammed his teacup to the floor, smashing it

to pieces.

Michael dropped to his knees, swallowing his pride. "Dad, I really don't remember."

"Useless! What good are you to anyone?"

It was the first time all night Walter had really lost his temper.

But everyone in the room knew-even if Dylan was making it all up, Michael was

the one who'd have to take the blame.

From Michael's perspective, he was already finished. But he had a son, Simon, who was still counting on Dylan's approval to get by. If Michael made trouble, Simon would be dragged down too.

Even someone as clueless as Michael could see that much.