No Strings Attached novel (Clara and Ian)
Chapter 122

Chapter 122

lan's fingers clutched the phone, the pallor of his grip bordering on frigid. His eyes were a network of crimson veins.

He watched the video again and again, his gaze dark and brooding. Each time he saw Clara's bloodshot eyes, each time he heard her voice laced with loathing, lan felt as if countless silver needles were piercing his heart, the relentless stinging almost suffocating him.

Chase cast a disdainful glance at him and drawled, "I told you, don't be too cocky. Watch your mouth, man. But no, you wouldn't listen. Now look at you. You've played yourself. Anders comes from a background just as privileged as yours. He's no less capable, and the kicker is that he adores Clara. Unlike you, who's been treating her like some sugar baby, never giving her the freedom she deserves. No wonder she's ditching you."

Roger chimed in, "You were the one who didn't want to define the relationship. Now that she's ready to walk away, you can't bear to let go. Do you think that's love? It's just need, buddy. If you don't love her, do the honorable thing and let her go. Don't hold her back from finding someone who will really cherish her."

The two of them went back and forth like a comedy duo, completely oblivious to lan's turmoil. It took several minutes before they realized something was off. Glancing to the side, they jumped in alarm.

lan was flushed, slumped on the couch, his dark eyes swirling with uncontrollable desire. Sensing trouble, Chase slapped his hand on lan's forehead and cursed under his breath, "Holy smokes! Why are you burning up? Dawson, what the hell did you give him?"

Startled, Dawson quickly presented the medicine bottle to Chase. "It's the same one Mr. Hayes has been on for two years."

Chase took the bottle, fished out a pill, and dropped a bit of water on it. A peculiar scent immediately filled the air. He wrapped the pill in tissue and tossed it into the trash, his voice laced with icy command, "The meds have been tampered with. He's been dosed with the most potent aphrodisiac from the black market."

The revelation stunned everyone. They all knew that with the the drug's strength, there was no known antidote the only way out was through the storm of desire.

Dawson's voice was tense, "He was fine last week. If there's been a switch, it must've been recent. I'll investigate thoroughly."

Roger, concerned, suggested, "What do we do now? We can't let him suffer. It could kill him. Maybe we should find him a woman..."

At that suggestion, lah shoved Chase's hand away, his voice icy yet feeble, "No! I need to find Clara."

He staggered towards the door, only to be caught by Chase's firm grip. "You've hurt her so deeply, and now you expect her to clean up your mess? Is that fair to her?" At that, lan's facade crumbled, revealing undeniable sorrow. "I just want to tell her I'm

sorry."

Chase, feeling his rapid pulse, said, "Apologies can wait. Right now, head upstairs to the guest room and try a cold bath. I'll get someone to come over and take a look." Minutes later, lan lay submerged in the icy depths of the bathtub. The scorching heat of his body starkly contrasted with the bleakness of his soul.

Visions of Clara haunted him - her pained expression in the video, the lost look in her eyes atop the rooftop. Each memory was like a dagger to his chest.

Slowly, he sank deeper into the water, his hot tears mingling with the cold bath, a silent testament to his inner agony.

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