No Strings Attached

Chapter 219

Clara had barely caught her breath from the shock when she heard Ian call out her name. In a daze, she walked over to his bedside, gazing at him for a few seconds before saying, "My wound is fine, but you're really hurt. You need to rest up."

Without warning, Ian pulled her into his embrace and ripped open her blouse. A white bandage clung to her pale back. Beneath the bandage, the outer layer of skin was damaged, and the petal birthmark had vanished without a trace.

As Ian stared at Clara's wound, a numb pain spread through his heart. He knew this attack had been meant for her. Destroying the birthmark had been the perpetrator's true intention. This meant that someone besides him and Edwin knew Clara was May's daughter.

Ian's cold fingertips gently brushed Clara's skin. His voice sounded husky as he asked, "Does it hurt?"

Clara shook her head slightly. "The doctor said if you hadn't rinsed it with water in time, it could have been much worse."

Her mind was still filled with the image of Ian, one hand pressed against his own blood-gushing wound, the other holding a hose to wash the acid off her. The scene was so shocking it pained her heart. It sent shivers through her entire body. Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

As Clara lost herself in thought, Ian's raspy voice cut through. "But it still breaks my heart, and I feel guilty. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t left you alone."

His large hand gently stroked her hair, his eyes full of barely concealed anguish. He was terrified by the thought of what could have happened if he hadn't been there. What if she had been disfigured?

At the thought, a tremor ran through Ian's heart. He held Clara tight, his burning lips pressing against her back. A broken whisper escaped his throat.

"Clara, I'm so scared. Can I just hold you for a while?"

Clara didn't struggle and quietly leaned against Ian. Both were wounded, and any movement was unbearable.

Their moment of tenderness, however, was short-lived. The door to the room swung open.

Greta stood in the doorway, clad in a crisp white suit. She immediately laughed, covering her eyes at the sight before her. "Whoa, get a room, you two. Didn't anyone teach you to lock the door?"

Their hard-won privacy was disrupted, and Ian couldn't help but be irritated. "Ever heard of knocking?"

"Who knew you'd be so frisky after taking a hit to the back? Still can't sit still, huh?"

Clara quickly stood up and called out, "Miss Greta."

Greta laughed and pulled her close, asking with concern, "How’s your wound? Is it bad?"

"It's not too bad. It should heal up in a few days."

"Don't worry, I've already contacted a friend abroad, and she's a plastic surgeon. She can help you with the reconstructive surgery later."

This was Clara's first close encounter with Greta. People said she was unapproachable and reserved. But now, she seemed like the girl next door to Clara.

Clara nodded with a smile. "Thank you, Miss Greta."

"Miss Greta? That's so formal. Just call me Gigi. I like the sound of that."

"Okay, thanks, Gigi."

Ian looked at Greta with disdain, "Clara's calling you 'Gigi' now. What about the welcome gift? 'Gigi' isn't just a name for anyone."

Greta smiled at Clara. "So you two made up?"

Clara shook her head. "Not yet."

"Then what welcome gift should I give? Let's wait until he's won you over."

With a playful raise of her eyebrows at Ian, Greta said, "Alright, I just came to check on behalf of Grandma Rose to see if you were still kicking. Since you don’t seem to need my care, I'll be on my way."