No Strings Attached novel (Sharp and Clara’s)

Chapter 126

Clara furrowed her brow in frustration, her voice low and filled with regret. Tm really sorry, but there's nothing I can do to help. It's not that I'm heartless, but there are plenty of people who could save him. My involvement isn't essential. You really shouldn't force me Into doing something I'm uncomfortable with.”

Leonora’s temper flared upon hearing those words. “After all the good lan's done for you, you ungrateful wretch, it's like you've got no soul! You'd actually stand by and watch him suffer. Let's not beg her. Heidi can save lan; we can’t wait any longer. Her words painted Clara as a callous traitor, someone who would abandon another in their time of need.

Anders swiftly pulled Clara close, his voice a tender shield. “No one can force you to do anything you don't want to. Go outside and wait for me. I'll handle this.”

He ushered Clara out the door and shut it firmly behind her. The gentle expression on his face instantly turned to one of icy detachment.

He approached lan’s bedside, watching him thrash in agony. Not a shred of sympathy crossed his face. Instead, a mocking smile curled at the edge of his lips. “lan, you're not the only one in pain. Clara's suffering more than you. When she was under the influence, she was calling out your name.” "She would rather die than compromise the honor you bestowed upon her, yet look how you've treated her! You believed the slanderous words of others and trampled the very honor she fought so desperately to preserve.

against the wound. “Mr. Hayes, your stomach ailment has flared up. The doctor advised a few days of observation.”

“No need!” His voice was hoarse and deep.

Disregarding Dawson's pleas, he stubbornly drove away. It wasn't until lan parked beneath Clara's apartment building that he realized his hands and feet were icy, his fingers trembling slightly.

He looked up at her window, his heart feeling as if it had been struck hard. The pain tore through every cell in his body.

Only now did he understand the depth of the hurt he had inflicted on Clara, the woman, who would rather die than compromise her honor for him.

Dragging his weary body, he knocked on Clara's door. She opened it to find a ghostly pale- lan on her doorstep.

Gone was his usual poise. His clothes were wrinkled, his cuffs stained with drying blood. His eyes were bloodshot, a sight of lan she had never seen before.

Before she could speak, lan’s feverish hand pulled her into an embrace, his voice raw with struggle. “Clara, I'm sorry.”