Seeing those two reckless individuals anger Ignatius Leclair, dragged away by his men, the taut string in Delphine's heart finally loosened, and her body grew weak.
The man's strong yet gentle arm encircled her tightly, steadying her collapsing figure.
"Thank you." She murmured hoarsely, her voice rasping, filled with hatred for those two people, yet tinged with profound sorrow.
Ignatius said nothing as he carried her to the sofa by the fireplace, then moved to retrieve the first aid kit.
"Hold out your hand." His voice was low and firm, cold and sharp like metal.
Delphine instinctively stretched out her hand, her slender jade-like fingers opening to reveal a palm mangled with blood and flesh. Ignatius frowned deeply, his lips pressed into a line as he bent down to disinfect her wound with antiseptic.
