Chapter 133 The moment lanâs cryptic words about distraction made sense to Clara, she found herself fighting back with a fiery spirit that she didnât even know she possessed. She pounded on lanâs chest with all her might, her voice a mixture of rage and desperation, âlan, what the hell do you think youâre doing? Let go of me!â
His breath was already ragged, but now it seemed to catch in his throat at her resistance.
As he encircled Clara once more, inhaling the floral scent that seemed to cling to her, hist mind reeled as if heâd gone completely mad. He ignored the IV needle in his wrist, ignored Claraâs punches, and bent his head to capture her lips in a kiss that was never meant to be.
As their lips were about to touch, Clara felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation. He had said he didnât want her and never loved her, so why was he still clinging to her?
She recoiled from his kiss, her mind racing with desperation. Fumbling on the nightstand, her hand found a glass of water, which she brought crashing down upon lanâs head with strength fueled by pure adrenaline.
Clara, usually as gentle as a kitten, had managed to strike lan so hard that blood began to flow from a gash on his forehead.
lan froze, the sensation of warm blood tracing a path down his cheek and jawline before dropping onto Claraâs delicate face, rendering him momentarily still. In this state, Claraâs beauty seemed fractured yet somehow more striking.
A low chuckle escaped him despite the situation. âAttorney Clara, thatâs domestic violence.â
Petrified by her actions, Clara scrambled off from under lan and frantically pressed the call button for help.
Within moments, the doctor rushed in, taking in the scene with a start. âWhat in the world happened here?â the doctor exclaimed.
With a face smeared in blood, lan looked towards Clara, his voice calm, âI ticked her off, and she lashed out.â
The doctor quickly got to work, dabbing at lanâs wound with cotton balls while trying to lighten the mood, âAs a couple, you should talk it out instead of getting physical. Thatâs quite the cut. It might scar. Once itâs healed, why not pick up some scar cream? Itâd be a shame to mar such a handsome face.â
The term âcoupleâ seemed to brighten lanâs mood.
The itch of his rash became unnoticeable, and the pain from his wound seemed to vanish. He looked at Clara and said, âScars donât matter. As long as sheâs here to nurse me back 1/2 to health.
The doctor shook his head in bemusement. âIâll never understand young folks these days. Why not just enjoy life instead of all this roughhousing?â
After treating lanâs wound, the doctor left.
Clara, looking at lan with his face riddled with rash and his head wrapped in gauze, found her voice slightly hoarse. âI didnât mean to do that.â
lan showed no sign of blame, instead speaking with a gentleness that surprised her, âYouâve got me looking like this. Can you at least keep me company?â
Clara looked down, âI can stay, but you canât make any moves.â
âDeal. I wonât touch you.â
The rest of the night passed without incident.
As lanâs IV finished and his rash subsided, he regained his dashing composure despite the bandage on his forehead.
While Clara was fetching his medication, Dawson walked in and did a doubleâtake at the sight of lan. âMr. Hayes, what happened to your forehead?â
lan glanced at him coldly, a smug smile playing on his lips. âDomestic bliss.â
Dawson caught the implication immediately. Looking at lanâs smug expression, hel couldnât help but remark, âSo, Attorney Clara got the better of you, huh? Good on her! She should have gone a few rounds to even the score for all the times youâve given her grief.â
lanâs eyebrows knit together in annoyance. âYou enjoy this, donât you?â
âOf course not,â Dawson quickly backtracked. âI mean, they say love is a playful shove, a kiss with a fist. My girl throws punches at me all the time,â