Chapter 136
Chapter 136
How could Clara not see the obvious intention? It was maddening.
lan was holding a bouquet of roses he’d picked up earlier and was just about to instruct Dawson to bring the car around when Ryker came barreling down the street in Clara’s BMW, effectively blocking his way.
With his sunglasses on, Ryker whistled in his direction, then grinned and said, “Sorry, buddy, looks like rain’s on the way. Gotta dash and pick up my girl.” With that, he popped open a black umbrella and made a beeline for Clara.
lan felt a vein in his temple throb with irritation.
Seemingly oblivious to lan’s mounting fury, Dawson pointed to the car and said, “Mr. Hayes, isn’t that Ryker? What’s this about picking up a goddess? Is he shacking up with Attorney Clara now?”
His eyes widened in surprise, catching sight of lan’s scowl reflected in the rearview mirror, darker than a thundercloud.
lan’s cold gaze swept over him mercilessly. “Keep quiet, Dawson, No one will mistake you for a mute.‘
Dawson clammed up instantly, spooked into silence.
Then the rain began to fall, a fine drizzle that soon intensified, drumming against the car windows and splashing up in a spray.
lan caught sight of Clara approaching and immediately stepped out of the car with the flowers. He was just about to make his way over to her when the crowd that had been fawning over Clara
pushed him to the outside.
Clara looked up for a moment and saw a man standing in the rain, clutching a bouquet. Their eyes met across the veil of rain, and although they were only steps apart, Clara felt like worlds lay between them.
Her face was expressionless as she bid farewell to her alumni and climbed into the car, not sparing lan a second glance. Property belongs to Nôvel(D)r/ama.Org.
lan stood alone in the rain, watching Clara’s car drive away, his heart aching in sharp, sporadic twinges. The wound on his head began to throb in sympathy.
Clara was ignoring him now. Even seeing him in the rain did not draw her concern. This was not the Clara whose world had once revolved solely around him.
Just then, Dawson camé running over with an umbrella. “Mr. Hayes, the rain’s getting heavier. Best get in the car before your wound gets infected.”
It took a while for lan to respond in a hoarse voice, “So what if it gets infected?”
“An Infection could lead to a fever, Mr. Hayes. Let’s head home and get you treated.
Jan arched an eyebrow, his gaze icy. “You go back. I need to walk alone.”
Without waiting for Dawson to react, he strode off into the rain, indifferent to Dawson’s pleas.
At nine o’clock that night, Clara’s phone rang. It was lan’s housekeeper, a woman who had always taken good care of her. Clara had no reason not to answer.
“Hello, what’s going on?”
“Ms. Clara, Mr. Ian has a fever of 38.5 degrees. He refuses to take his medicine or see a doctor. He’s waiting for you to come and tend to him.”
Clara’s brow furrowed in frustration. “Please call Dawson or Dr. Chase. They have more sway with him than I do.”
“Ms. Clara, Mr. Ian says he won’t let anyone touch him except you.”
“Then let him suffer,” she snapped, ending the call abruptly.
Seconds later, the phone rang again.
“You tell lan that I am not a doctor, nor am I his personal nursemaid. His life or death has nothing to do with me. Stop calling me,” Clara said, ready to hang up.
But from the other end came lan’s voice, deep and hoarse. “Clara, if I go public with our relationship, will you come back to me?”