Hannah arranged Destiny's escape before returning to her room with Oscar.

Once back in her room, Hannah could no longer pretend. She flopped onto Oscar's bed and said, "Go find a maid to help me check this wound on my back. Your father is ruthless."

"You feel the pain now?" Oscar approached.

Hannah didn't respond, wanting only to have the whip wound treated. Oscar left without further comment. Hannah assumed he’d gone for a maid and asked no questions.

It wasn't until a moment later that she felt someone undressing her. Turning, she saw Oscar. "What are you doing…? Ah!" Her startled movement tore the wound, bringing tears to her eyes.

Oscar frowned, saying sternly, "Don't move."

'Don't move? Then you'll undress me!' "I asked for a maid, not you…" she protested.

Oscar ignored her, picking up scissors to cut away the blood-stained fabric on her back.

"Oscar…"

"Move again, and I'll cut your flesh." He held the scissors before her eyes.

Hannah cursed silently, You better not need my help someday! She suppressed her anger, then felt a chill on her back as he cut open her dress. Blushing slightly, she told herself not to mind him. His gaze burned her back as he worked.

"Oscar!" she snapped, her anger resurfacing. Before Oscar, she'd been self-possessed, even enduring being stabbed by Charles. But with Oscar, she was constantly losing control.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice a warm, slow, deep counterpoint to her outburst. A hint of heartache underlay his tone. His words calmed her.

"A little… hmm," she murmured.

A strange sensation followed as she felt his lips near the wound. He kissed it gently. Hannah flushed crimson, feeling utterly helpless.

He withdrew, a smile of affection and worry on his face as he looked at her back. He unhooked her bra.

"Hey…" Hannah tensed.

"Don't worry. Even if I wanted to caress you, I won't while you're immobile," he teased. "At least, not until you feel better."

Hannah cursed under her breath. Oscar stared at the hideous wound on her pale back, remembering his own past pain and the shock of seeing her injured. He prepared a swab and iodine.

"Just… hold still."

A searing pain shot through her, making her shiver, but she bit her lip, silent. Oscar, aware of her suffering, worked as gently as possible, disinfecting the wound slowly.

Silence fell, broken only by Hannah's heavy breathing and Oscar's own quiet efforts. He was careful, sweating from his own exertion. Time crawled by. He finished cleaning the wound and applied an ointment.

"It's cold…" she whimpered, goosebumps rising on her skin.

"It'll be fine soon," he said gently, his warm voice seeming to soothe her. She felt the comforting warmth of his hand.

"Oscar!"

"I'm afraid you'll catch cold, so I'm warming you."

If not for the wound, she would have jumped him. He chuckled softly before removing his hand, leaving her with a strange sense of loss.

He redressed the wound, covering her with a quilt. "No clothes, no bra for now. I'll reapply the medicine this evening. If you recover well, you can dress tomorrow."

The thought of being naked in his bed until morning preoccupied her.

"I'm not interested in a woman who can't move a muscle in bed," he said, irritating her again.

Hannah closed her eyes, shutting him out. He smiled, tidied the medical kit, and lay down on the couch beside her. He didn't speak or use his phone, simply resting his hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling.

When she opened her eyes again, he was there. The couch was cramped, but she wasn't about to offer him her bed. They weren't that close. And besides, she was injured in his house; he should bear some responsibility.

"Is that why you moved out of your family home?" Hannah asked.

Oscar blinked, turning to look at her.

"Because you knew Karen liked you," she said, finally understanding his indifference to his family's favorite.