Chasing My Pregnant Wife

After much effort, Rosalie finally climbed off him. She was clutching her collar tightly, feeling somewhat at a loss.

Vincent pointed to a room. "Go find yourself some clothes."

Rosalie followed the direction of his finger and walked into the room. There was a large wardrobe inside. She opened it to find it filled with men's clothing, each piece far too large for her.

She picked out a white shirt, then took off her clothes and slipped the shirt on. His shirt was enormous, making her look like she was a child in an adult's clothes. After changing, Rosalie returned to the couch in the living room.

Vincent gave her a once-over, his gaze lingering on her for a long time. His eyes revealed a complex emotion, as if he were seeing another person through her. That girl had also worn his clothes.

Rosalie looked down at the oversized shirt on her and said softly, "Thank you for the shirt."

Vincent averted his gaze, a trace of sorrow passing through his eyes.

"How's your wound? You need to see a doctor," Rosalie said worriedly.

This was a gunshot wound-not something to be taken lightly. If not treated properly, it could be fatal.

voice cold. "You can

a drawer, took out a gun, and

the gun as if it were a hot potato. "Why are you giving

want to get home safely, take it. Don't

useful than anything. Even if she were

leave, are you

uneasily, her head lowered. "I'm afraid you'll die here

woman. Aren't you afraid I'll do something

"You saved me."

you doesn't mean I won't harm you. I'm not much better than those guys. I've killed more

coldness in his eyes, Rosalie

groaned, clutching his wound. His chest was hurting terribly, like

stepped forward, asking, "Are you

wrist. "Are

I can do