Chapter 95 lan glared at the disheveled Anders, and his molars clenched in suppressed rage. âDo you think I wonât touch you just âcause your old manâs got pull?â he sneered.
Without waiting for Anders to snap out of his shock, lan lunged like a predator, pinning him to the ground and unleashing a flurry of blows.
Visions of Clara, flushed and disheveled in her nightgown, sprawled across the bed filled lanâs mind. Her hair was damp, and her neck flushed red. He knew this image of Clara all too wellâshe was his woman, yet here she was, lying in bed with another man.
This bitter pill was something lan couldnât swallow. His punches landed with increasing ferocity, giving Anders no chance to defend himself.
Just then, a feeble voice cut through the chaos. âlan, stop it!â Claraâs words, meant to be stern, came out weak and breathless due to her frail condition.
lan halted his assault, his eyes bloodshot as he turned toward Clara. Her eyes, brimming with tears, still held that familiar glint of desire that he couldnât ignore. He bit back his anger, a devilish smirk crossing his lips.
âWhatâs this? A few hits, and youâre all heartache and tears for him? Seems like youâve fallen pretty hard, Clara!â lan sneered, pushing Anders aside and advancing toward the bed with a menacing air. He gripped Claraâs chin firmly, his face a dark shadow looming over her.
Under the influence of the drug coursing through her veins, Claraâs heart skipped a beat as lanâs icy fingers touched her skin.
Mental images of their past wild encounters flashed through her mind, intensified by the drugâs effects.
She wanted to tell him she was drugged, to tell him she was suffering and needed his help. But before she could speak, lanâs voice came, chilling to the core. âClara, you think I care who youâre with? Youâre just another notch on my belt, a plaything Iâve grown tired of. Iâm done with you, and if Anders here likes his goods secondâhand, heâs welcome to you. From now on, we go our separate ways!â After holding her gaze for several agonizing seconds, he released her and stormed out.
Clara watched lanâs retreating figure, her heart shredded by his words. She had no time for sorrow as she turned her attention to Anders, lying bloodied on the floor. âAnders, are you okay?â she whispered hoarsely.
Anders, battered and bruised, struggled to his feet. âDonât talk, save your strength. Iâm taking you to the hospital.â
By the time they reached the emergency room, Clara had lost consciousness. It was a long while before she was wheeled out of the ER.
Anders rushed to the doctorâs side. âDr. Kork, how is she?â
1/2 Sheâs been dosed with a potent narcotic from the black market. We donât have an entidate domestically, but luckily, sheâs lost a lot of blood, which has lessened the drugâs effects. Sheâs pulled through, though.
Iâve never seen anyone withstand this drug like she has. Sheâs the first.â
Anders nodded his thanks. âI appreciate it, Dr. Kork.â
When Clara awoke, she remained silent, sitting on the balcony and gazing out the window. lanâs last words echoed in her head, each syllable like a knife twisting in her heart. She had seen his ruthlessness before, but his outright declaration that she was nothing more than a discarded toy was a first. She wondered just how little she meant to him for him to utter such callous words.
Her eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears. She leaned back in her chair and slowly closed her eyes, hot tears slipping down her cheeks and tracing a path across her elegant collarbone. Her pale lips curled into a bittersweet smile that was difficult to describe, a mix of pain and resignation.