Flash Marriage: Slow Down Mister

Chapter 91 Let Me Take Care of You

Horace had no idea that Clara knew where did this pendant came from.

At this moment, however, he couldn't care less. Horace took hold of her wrist with one hand, wrapped

his free arm around her slim waist, and drew her closer to him.

"Clara Selman." He lowered his head to look Clara directly in the eye, still sounding a little agitated.

"Listen. If this pendant will put your life at risk, I would rather smash it!"

Clara froze.

What did Horace mean by that?

He smashed that pendant for her?

But how was it possible? Her ex-girlfriend gave him the pendant. It was so special. Why would he do

that for her, Clara Selman, an unimportant person?

Horace's words were like a beacon of hope, navigating her through the mist of questions that had been All text © NôvelD(r)a'ma.Org.

niggling her and leading her to an answer, an answer that was too sudden for her to face head-on.

Clara's train of thought was cut off by Horace's abrupt movement. He lifted her chin and frowned as he

studied her face. "Clara, what's wrong with your eyes?"

Just now, he was too swamped by his anger to even notice that Clara eyes were bloodshot. Not only

that, her eyes didn't seem to be focusing.

Panicking, he made Clara lie back down and waved his hand in front of her eyes.

Clara frowned. "I'm not blind. It's just that my vision is a little blurry. That's all."

"Blurry?" Horace said, "Damn, then why didn't you tell the doctor?"

Before Clara could make out an answer, Horace pressed the call button next to Clara's bed.

Clara felt as if this man in front of her was not Horace at all. He was so easily agitated today. "I didn't

feel a thing back then. I thought it was nothing. But now it does hurt a little."

Hearing that, Horace was even more worried. He let go of what happened just now and covered her

eyes with his big hand, forcing her to close her eyes. "Just rest your eyes while waiting for the doctor."

Clara just laid there without struggling. "Good. He doesn't sound angry now," she thought to herself.

A doctor walked in. After giving Clara a quick check, he soon found out what happened. The doctor

said that she possibly got ashes into her eyes in the fire and prescribed her some eye drops. Since her

eyes weren't able to provide adequate moisture because of the fire, the doctor also told her not to use

her eyes so often these days.

In Clara's understanding, she thought the doctor was telling her to close her eyes and let them rest as

much as possible. Horace, on the other hand, directly asked the doctor to get a sleep mask for her.

"This is too much," Clara said. "It's not that big of a deal. This sleep mask will completely block my

vision. How am I supposed to do anything on my own?"

"You don't have to." Horace didn't mince the word. Unlike the usual Horace, he was more

straightforward and direct today. He put the sleep mask on for her and said firmly, "I'll take care of you."

"But don't you have to work?" With the sleep mask, all she could see was darkness. She felt insecure

and wanted to take it off. Seeing that, Horace grabbed her hands and stopped her.

"I've already informed the company. I will work here in the next few days."

"What?" Clara was so shocked that she stopped the struggling. "You are going to work here? In the

ward?"

The Horace she remembered was a total workaholic who spent most of his times at the office. Now, he

was saying that he would stay here to take care of her these days?

"You don't have to do this," she said. "You can call Martha to take care of me."

"Why?" Horace had already made up his mind. "I can take care of you myself. Now, just sleep."

The way Horace said it was almost imperative. Seeing that there was no way to make him change his

mind, Clara listened to him and laid back down.

Because of the burns on her body, the doctor gave her some painkillers and saw her take them. Clara

already felt a bit drowsy. With the sleep mask, she fell asleep soon after her head hit the pillow.

Seeing that, Isaac came forward and whispered, "Mr. Kirkland, I have something to report to you. It is

about the fire."

Horace returned to his usual calm and collected self after Clara fell asleep. He turned his wheelchair

and led Isaac to the small compartment where he could still see Clara and talk without waking her up.

"Go ahead," Horace said.

"The fire started in the study next to the master bedroom on the second floor."

Horace thought about it and commented, "So, you are saying that this person actually wanted to hurt

Clara."

Isaac nodded solemnly, "Also, there was no sign of forced entry. The security camera didn't catch

anyone coming in."

Horace's face darkened. "Are you sure?"

Isaac nodded, knowing what Horace might be suspecting.

The home security system in Horace's villa was monitored 24/7. If the alarm didn't go off, there was

only one possibility left.

It was an inside job.

Horace squeezed the armrest of the wheelchair. "Get Martha and Donald here." His tone was bone-

chilling cold.

Half an hour later, Horace sent several people to stand guard outside Clara's ward. He went down to

the warehouse of the hospital.

In there, an old couple hunched over with their hands tied behind their backs.

When the door opened, a slender man sitting in a wheelchair went in and stopped in front of the two.

The woman's body quivered when she saw the man in front of him. "Mr. Kirkland! Why did you do this

to us?" she exclaimed.

Martha had been nothing but loyal to Horace. She thought he knew that. Finding out that Horace the

person behind this came as a total shock to her.

Horace ignored her and said, "Donald, Martha. You have been working for the Kirkland family for years

now. I don't want to make things difficult for you. So just tell the truth, and you will be spared."

Martha asked in confusion, "What truth? What are you talking about? "

Horace turned to Donald. "Donald, do you know what I was talking about?"

Since Horace entered the warehouse, a dreary gloominess had been veiling Donald's face. But now,

he looked at Horace and let out a burst of disturbing laughter.

Horace sat in his wheelchair and didn't rush him.

Finally, Donald stopped laughing and stared at Horace. "My bad. I didn't expect that woman would

survive the fire."