Chapter 160
Norah’s Pov
D
Finished
Lucien’s gaze was locked on my right hand, where blood had already soaked through the makeshift bandage.
He carefully cradled my injured hand in his. Beneath the fresh, bleeding gash from the broken. glass lay an old scar–silver–white, faded, almost blending into my skin.
“How did this happen?” His voice shook.
My mind was hazy. The sharp, throbbing pain in my right hand left me too weak to even stand.
He didn’t repeat the question.
In the next moment, I was in his arms.
He carried me across the deck, past the groaning men on the ground, past the stunned and curious stares of the other guests. I curled against his chest. His familiar scent wrapped around me, and the steady, strong rhythm of his heartbeat somehow soothed my panic.
The yacht’s infirmary was brightly lit, smelling sharply of disinfectant.
An older man with gold–rimmed glasses looked up, startled, as Lucien strode in with me in his arms. But his professional training quickly took over.
“Lay her here.”
Lucien placed me gently on the examination table but didn’t move away. He stood beside it, his tall frame casting a long shadow. The room felt heavy, tense.
He held my left hand tightly. His palm was burning hot, and trembling.
“Sir, you’ll need to step back so I can treat this lady’s injury,” the doctor said cautiously.
Lucien didn’t budge. His bloodshot eyes remained fixed on my right hand.
The doctor sighed and began cleaning the wound under Lucien’s intense, unyielding stare.
When the antiseptic–soaked cotton touched the torn flesh, a sharp sting shot through me.
“Mmm…” I couldn’t hold back a whimper.
“Gently!” Lucien’s voice was rough, almost violent, making the doctor flinch.
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Chapter 160
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“Sir, there are glass fragments embedded here. They have to be removed,” the doctor explained, wiping sweat from his forehead.
Lucien went silent again, only squeezing my hand tighter.
The cleaning and stitching felt endless. The pain left me trembling, drenched in cold sweat, drifting in and out of awareness.
“Done,” the doctor finally said, sounding relieved. As he bandaged my hand, he glanced at Lucien. “The cut isn’t too deep–no major vessels hit. It should heal with rest. But…”
He hesitated, then continued, “The older injury on this lady’s hand… may be more concerning than the new one.”
I felt Lucien tense.
“What old injury?”
“This scar here,” the doctor pointed to the silvery mark. “By the look of it, it’s at least two or three years old. A deep puncture from something very sharp–it likely damaged nerves and tendons.”
“While it’s healed on the surface, penetrating injuries like this often cause long–term issues. Numbness, weakness, spasms… especially under stress, fatigue, or emotional strain.”
Each word hit Lucien like a physical blow. He took a step back, his eyes glued to my bandaged hand.
Slowly, he released my left hand, knelt down, and carefully took my right hand again. His fingertips brushed lightly over the bandage.
My heart quivered at his touch.
“Out.” The word was abrupt, cold.
Reading the intensity in Lucien’s stance, the doctor quickly ushered the nurse out and closed the door behind them.
We were alone.
The infirmary was silent except for our ragged breathing.
Lucien stayed kneeling, holding my hand, utterly still.
When he finally looked up, his gray–blue eyes were bloodshot, filled with bottomless regret and self–hatred.
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Chapter 160
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“So that night…” His voice was thick with agony. “You weren’t faking. Your hand… it was really…”
“What the hell did I do to you?” He lifted a hand and struck himself hard across the face. “How could I have treated you like that…?”
Instinctively, I raised my left hand to stop him–to say it was over, it didn’t matter anymore. But my hand froze mid-air.
“I’m sorry, Norah… I didn’t know… I truly didn’t know.”
He grabbed my hand and pressed it to his burning cheek.
Seeing his torment, the ice around my heart–the frost I’d carried for three years–shattered in that instant.
All the toughness, the acting, the resentment… it all melted away.
And I cried.
All the suppressed pain, the loneliness, the unsaid longing from those three years burst out in a flood of silent, heavy tears.
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