Chapter 1134: Am I a Ghost? You Hide When You See Me!

Hannah was held so tightly by Oscar she could barely breathe. For a moment, she felt faint, overwhelmed by his intensity. The scent of Oscar filled her lungs; his taste lingered on her lips and tongue. Her eyes stung, perhaps from anger.

Angry and wanting to resist, she was powerless. Before Oscar, she felt utterly vulnerable. She had repeatedly overestimated him, or perhaps men in general. Oscar was no exception to the dominance of base instincts.

A tear rolled down her cheek. Oscar's passionate kisses ceased abruptly. The cold liquid—her tear—touched his fingertips, extinguishing his passion and restoring a semblance of sanity.

Looking down, he saw her teary eyes and pale face. He perceived hatred, or perhaps coldness, in her gaze. Even if he released her now, her resistance was gone. Was it utter disappointment that silenced her?

Hannah, too, saw the panic in his eyes. The desire and eagerness had vanished instantly. He was likely frightened by his own lack of control.

Oscar came to his senses, quickly rising from Hannah. "I'm sorry, I…" he began, the words catching in his throat. No explanation seemed adequate.

Hannah also rose, observing his awkwardness and unease. She was unsure of her feelings. Hate? Yes, there was hatred—hatred for her own weakness, for still needing Oscar's protection. She knew this wasn't entirely his fault; many men couldn't resist such impulses.

When he had forced her, she'd been completely powerless. That feeling of helplessness had broken her.

They stared at each other.

Suddenly, Oscar turned, closing a still-playing video. He dragged it to the recycle bin, deleting it permanently. Then, he purged other files from his computer before rising. "Nothing more to bother you on the computer," he said, striving for composure.

Hannah remained distant.

"Thanks," she murmured from the window.

Oscar retrieved his fallen coffee cup; the carpet had saved it from breaking. "I'll have someone clean this," he said.

"Hmm," Hannah replied, emotionless.

As Oscar left and closed the door, Hannah glanced back. She noticed his hand was red and swollen from a burn, yet he didn't appear to be in pain.

Hannah stared out the window, lost in thought. Later, Max entered.

"Ms. Cooper," he greeted, placing a coffee on her table.

"Thanks, Max." She accepted it gratefully before he handed her a key. "This is your key."

She hesitated. "Master Oscar asked me to give it to you personally," Max explained. It was Oscar's way of assuring her he wouldn't enter without permission again.

"I don't know what happened, but I saw how upset he was," Max observed. "I haven't seen him like that in years—like something irreparable has occurred."

Hannah nodded silently, unsure of her feelings.

"I'll clean the room for you now."

"Thank you."

"No problem at all."

Hannah sipped her coffee, its warmth somehow reminding her of Oscar and his burned hand. Finally, she set down the cup. "Max, I need to step out for a moment."

"Okay."

She left the bedroom.

Oscar sat on the sofa, tending his burned hand. Seeing Hannah approach, he started to leave, a deliberate avoidance, a fear of her. Hannah felt inexplicably angry.

"Oscar!" she called.

His body froze.

"Am I a ghost? You hide when you see me!"

Oscar hesitated. He couldn't believe she'd say that. He'd assumed she wanted to avoid him. Standing there, the tall man felt lost.

After speaking, Hannah surprised herself. She disliked Oscar, yet his avoidance made her uncomfortable. Seeing the hope in his eyes, she regretted her outburst.

Taking a deep breath, she asked, "How's your hand?"

Oscar examined it. "Not serious, just needs medicine."

"Have you applied any?"

"Not yet."

"Then why are you walking around?"

Oscar was speechless.

"Come here, I'll help you," she said.

She saw him struggling to apply ointment with his left hand. He was pleasantly surprised but also fearful of her withdrawing her kindness. He sat obediently on the sofa, behaving like a child who'd misbehaved.

Hannah applied the ointment to his reddened wound. Did it hurt? How much pain could Oscar endure? He'd endured gunshot wounds without flinching; burns were surely similar.

"Mm…" Oscar groaned softly as Hannah pressed firmly.