No Strings Attached

Chapter 5

lan’s grip tightened on his glass, his knuckles almost turning white. His heart felt like it had been stabbed at that very moment.

The day Heidi attempted suicide, Clara had bombarded him with calls about her excruciating cramps, and although he had answered at first, in a fit of anger, he eventually hung up on her. He couldn’t shake the thought that she would break up with him over this.

With his gaze cast downward, lan listened to Edwin and Chase spewing venom at the scumbag of a husband He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even feel the cigarette burning into the back of his hand. This is the property of Nô-velDrama.Org.

Restlessness consumed him all evening. At times like these, Clara would have already called, concerned. Yet now, well past midnight, not a single message had pinged his phone.

A bad feeling suddenly gripped him.

He stubbed out his cigarette and, clutching his phone, left in a hurry.

Stepping out of the bar, he saw a little girl approaching him, her basket brimming with fresh flowers. “Sir, would you like to buy some for your girlfriend?” she asked with a smile.

lan’s eyes fixated on the vibrant champagne roses in the basket, and Edwin’s words echoed in his head-“Just butter her up.”

“Pack them all up for me,” he said.

The girl beamed, swiftly bundling the flowers and handing them to lan, her words a stream of cheerful blessings.

For the first time that night, lan’s stern face softened. He pulled out a few crisp hundred–dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to the girl.

But when he got home, flowers in arms, he wasn’t greeted by that petite figure he expected, but by the housekeeper instead.

“Sir, welcome back. I’ve made you some chicken noodle soup. Would you like a bowl?” she offered.

lan’s brow furrowed as he glanced upstairs, “Is she asleep?”

The housekeeper hesitated, then said, “Ms. Clara’s gone. She asked me to give this to you.”

lan took the envelope from her. It was a list of Clara’s clothes. Fury pulsed through him, and he crumpled the list and tossed it in the trash.

Dialing Clara’s number, he waited through endless rings before she finally picked up.

“What is it?” Clara’s voice was hoarse but clear.

lan’s hand clenched around the phone. “You sure you want to play it this way?” he ground out.

“I’m sure, Clara replied, her calmness like ice.

“Don’t you dare regret this, Clara.” With that, he hung up and stormed upstairs.

“Sir, the flowers-” the housekeeper called after him.

“Trash them!” His voice was sharp, and he didn’t look back as he continued on.

He reached the bedroom and saw his white Samoyed Snow wearing a yellow charm around its neck, one he recognized from Clara’s social media. She claimed it was a charm for her beloved,

fetched from a sacred place.

Turns out, her beloved was the dog.

lan’s teeth clenched in anger. He ripped the charm off the dog’s neck and pocketed it. Snow barked loudly.

“What are you barking for? Your morris ditched you!” lan spat before slamming the bedroom door shut.

The next morning, lan reached out habitually to pull someone close, only to grasp at empty space. His eyes snapped open, the realization hitting him–Clara was gone.

A suffocating feeling weighed on his chest.

Mornings had always started with a unique feast, where he watched his sweet lady moan beneath him. It filled him with an indescribable feeling. It was like poison, slowly seeping into his bones, making him now almost lose control with the urge to find Clara.

The thought of her leaving without a word had him boiling with rage.

Would he go after her? Not a chance!