32. The Sound of a Heartbeat

The third day of Killian's hospitalization.

A soft, warm sensation came from his hand, and he slowly opened his eyes.

His gaze passed over the cold, white ceiling and finally landed on the obedient girl beside him.

She was holding a warm, wet towel, carefully wiping his uninjured hand.

"Tara."

He tried to call her, but his voice was horribly raspy.

The moment she heard him, the girl's body and expression froze. Then she looked at him in disbelief.

"Killian, you're awake?"

Her round eyes widened with joy.

"How do you feel? Does your head hurt badly?"

Even as she asked, Tara knew he was in immense pain. His head felt like it was going to explode, and his hand felt as if it were being pierced by frozen needles.

"I'll go get the doctor for you, wait a second."

She stood up to leave, but he suddenly reached out and grabbed her.

"Wait."

Because of the resonance, Tara's head was already throbbing. Being jerked like that made her feel nauseous.

She stumbled and fell backward, landing right on her butt on the floor.

Killian: "..."

"Sorry."

He frowned and moved to get up. "Are you hurt? I..."

"Don't move!"

Tara immediately clutched her head and arm, wailing like a ghost.

Killian was stunned by her reaction, then his gaze suddenly darkened.

"Did he hit you that day?"

"No."

Tara shook her head weakly and lied, "I was just too worried about you, so I haven't rested well."

As she spoke, tears she couldn't control wetted her eyes. "You're seriously injured. Do not move again. Stay there, I'm getting the doctor."

She scrambled up unsteadily and left the room.

Killian watched her retreating back. His thin lips thinned into a cold line, but deep in his eyes, something softened like spring water.

She looked so worried, so heartbroken.

It was as if she felt the pain of his injuries even more than he did.

The weight of her "I like you" was manifesting bit by bit over time—pure and passionate.

If she were rejected later, he didn't know how devastated she would be.

Given this, he certainly couldn't let her down.

The doctor soon arrived to examine him.

"Did you hear that? The doctor said you have a concussion and a fractured forearm. You need bed rest."

After the doctor left, Tara sat by his bedside again and gently took his uninjured left hand.

"So, you must recover properly these next few days. Don't move around."

She looked at him with sincere concern, her soft hands tightening slightly around his. "I will take good care of you, Killian."

"Also, I'm sorry," she lowered her head in self-reproach. "If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't have been hurt."

"It's not your fault."

While she couldn't see him, he withdrew his hand from hers and suddenly, gently rubbed her head.

Feeling the gentle pressure of his large hand, Tara looked up at him, just in time to see his beautiful but sharp phoenix eyes softening.

"The one at fault is the person who committed the crime, not you, the victim. You don't need to apologize to anyone."

"Besides."

He looked at her, his deep gaze steady. "It is only right for a man to protect a woman."

Tara stared at him blankly.

Thump-thump, thump-thump.

The sound of her heartbeat, though tiny and inaudible, was inexplicably deafening in that moment.

Her gaze, like a perfectly refined painting, couldn't help but trace his sharp, handsome features inch by inch.

As Killian's earlobes began to heat up under her intense stare, she suddenly nodded vigorously.

"I understand."

"Killian, you're the best."

Her eyes were like spring water, her smile like a blooming flower. The look she gave him was sincere and soft.

She was like a bright little sun, capable of lighting up any dark, cold corner, offering healing and warmth.

He couldn't help himself. He raised his hand to cup her soft, fair cheek, his thumb gently grazing her beautiful dimple.

...

"Well done."

By the lakeside, Pan (the antagonist) casually tossed a small stone into the water and smiled into the phone.

"It’s just a pity he wasn't completely crippled. He’s certainly tough."

The voice on the phone was confused: "Boss, it’s just a woman. If you want her, why not just take her? Why go to all this trouble?"

"Take her?"

"I don't like forced fruit."

He laughed, but his gaze gradually turned ruthless.

"I will make her come back to my side obediently and of her own accord."

Killian, Sean, even her protective family...

When the time comes and she loses everything, she will finally understand who is the only person she should truly rely on.

He lay back on the grass, tossed another stone into the lake, and asked casually, "How are those two 'sick' guys?"

The other end of the line was silent for two seconds. "Dead."

Pan paused, his brow furrowing. "Dead?"

"Yes. They died the day after they were bailed out. A car accident."

"Hah!"

After a silence, Pan let out a cold laugh.

"Well played, Killian. Well played, Sean."

A family outcast and a social punk—he wanted to see just how long they could hold out against

that

person!

"Mr. Bo, we've found out. The young master is currently at the Central Hospital in Yun City, China."

In M Country, at the Bo Manor.

Justin Bo (Killian's father/relative) listened to the old butler, put down his teacup, and coughed slightly before speaking. "Arrange it. We're going to China tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Mr. Bo."

"Killian, I know you're awake. It's time for breakfast."

The next morning, the first thing Killian saw when he opened his eyes was the sweet, obedient girl leaning over his bed, looking at him expectantly.

Seeing those beautiful, gentle eyes, the words "no appetite" were swallowed back down.

"Okay."

Tara immediately and considerately adjusted the hospital bed, helping him from a lying position to a semi-seated one.

After doing that, she didn't take out the breakfast immediately. Instead, she wrung out a hot towel from a nearby basin and gently wiped his face.

Killian was stunned, feeling her gentle movements linger over the skin of his face.

"There."

She withdrew the towel and used her soft fingertip to lightly poke his cheek, whispering a small exclamation, "Your skin is so good."

She then poured out some warm fish head and tofu soup from a thermos.

In an instant, the cold hospital room was filled with a rich, fragrant aroma.

"Killian, this soup is good for your recovery. Hurry and try some."

Tara held the spoon, carefully scooping a small amount and bringing it to his lips, watching him with anticipation.

Killian watched her quietly and opened his mouth to drink.

In an instant, the fresh, savory taste flooded his taste buds.

He couldn't help but raise an eyebrow.

"How is it? Is it good?"

Her eyes were sparkling as she looked at him, practically begging for praise. "I made it myself..."

Killian was surprised. "You made it?"

"Yeah."

"I told you before, my cooking skills are amazing."

She looked at him with a smile. "If you like it, I can make it for you often in the future."

So please, make me your official girlfriend already,

she thought silently.

"Mhm, it's delicious."

Killian looked at her, his thin lips curving into a clear, happy arc, his gaze filled with tenderness. "Thank you, Tara."