Tempted Trapped and Too Late to Run

Charles pulled Clara through the night market, the place buzzing with laughter,

bright lights, and the mouthwatering smell of street food. It was the kind of chaos

that felt alive, like the city itself was throwing a party.

Clara drifted toward a stall selling candied hawthorns, her eyes glazed with

curiosity. She trailed behind the old man running the stand, grabbed a stick, and

strolled off without a word about paying.

The old vendor spun around, ready to scold her-until a crisp hundred-yuan note

appeared under his nose. He glanced up, startled, and found himself staring into

the sharp, intimidating face of a guy who looked like he'd walked out of a movie.

Charles's voice was low and flat. "Keep the change."

The vendor snatched the bill and hurried away, half-shivering, eager to put

distance between himself and Charles.

As soon as he was gone, Charles's tough-guy vibe disappeared. He turned to

Clara, suddenly looking more like a scolded dog than a bodyguard. "Clara, you

know you're supposed to pay for stuff, right? Don't just grab things."

But before he could keep scolding, Clara handed the stick of candied hawthorns

to him. "This is for you, bro."

Charles blinked, caught off guard. "For... me?"

She nodded. "You were staring at them."

He took it carefully, like it might break, and bit into the glossy red candy. It was

ridiculously sweet, but for some reason, his chest felt even warmer.

He'd never felt like this around his older brother, Mitch. It was weird, but in a good

way.

After a couple bites, he handed it back. "Alright, you should eat some too."

Clara shook her head and pointed into the crowd. "Wanna try that?"noveldrama

Not far away, a small amusement park beckoned, its lights drawing in a swarm of

teenagers. She pointed at the basketball toss.

Charles hesitated. His whole life had been training and discipline-he'd never

even played a game like this before.

But Clara seemed to know what she was doing. She showed him where to put in

the coins and cheered him on as he started tossing shots.

He got the hang of it fast-make that really fast. Ball after ball slipped through the

hoop, and soon, a crowd circled around them, cheering.

When the game finally ended, Clara was hugging the biggest stuffed bear at the

stall.

Charles glanced around, a little embarrassed by all the attention, and gently

nudged her out of the crowd.

Clara hugged the giant bear to her chest. "What should we do next, bro?"

He said he'd brought her out for fun,

but honestly, he was having the time

of his life. Clara, meanwhile, seemed

happy just to tag along, content to

watch and wait, like the world itself

was enough.

Even the only candied hawthorn she'd "bought" had been for him.

The night market stretched on and on, packed with food stalls and games.

Charles stopped at a sugar artist's booth, watching the man pour golden syrup

into shapes. "Can you make me two really big, fierce dogs? Like, as tall as me."

The sugar artist glanced up, skeptical. "You're joking, right? No dog is that tall."

Charles sat down, unfazed. "Just do it. What are you waiting for?"

The artist grumbled, "That's impossible."

Charles started to argue, "Hey, old man-" but then he caught Clara's eye and

changed his mind. "Okay, then make my little sister. Make her pretty."

The artist glanced at Clara, eyebrow raised, but shrugged and got to work. In a

few minutes, a delicate sugar figure took shape-a girl with a gentle smile.

Charles handed the sugar figure to Clara, grinning. "Here. For you. From your big

brother."

Clara's smile lit up her whole face. "Thanks, bro."

Charles felt a weird, happy tingle in his chest as they wandered on. "Is it sweet?"

he asked.

"You want some?" Clara offered.

He shook his head, dead serious. "No, we shouldn't eat the same one. Mitch says

it's not proper."

The sugar artist watched them go, shaking his head and muttering, "Weird kids."

By the time they'd made it through

the whole market, both Charles and

Clara were stuffed. For once, he

didn't want to go back to the estate.

Compared to this, home felt kind of

empty.

It was well past midnight when they

ended up on a park bench, the city

quieting down around them. Clara

still hugged her giant bear, and the

night air was thick with the fading

scent of grilled meat and popcorn.

Charles crossed his legs and almost started humming when Clara turned to him.

"Hey bro, where are our parents?"

He froze, brain scrambling for a story. Lying wasn't exactly his strong suit; the

more he tried, the less he came up with.

Clara saved him the trouble. "Did they both die and leave us a huge inheritance?

And two super cute dogs?"

It was the first time anyone had called his Czech wolfdogs cute.