In the next moment, he pounced on Rosalie like a wild beast, abruptly pinning her down on the couch with his hands tightly gripping her neck. Rosalie looked at him in terror, her heart racing from the sudden attack. Her eyes widened in fright, resembling a startled deer.

She struggled weakly under Vincent's oppressive hold. She wanted to cry out, but her throat was constricted, producing only a silent gasp. "Let...me..."

She frantically hit Vincent's chest. Breath was slowly being taken from her.

Rosalie's eyes filled with despair and helplessness as she struggled with all her might, trying to break free from his grip.

Vincent's gaze quickly sharpened. Upon seeing the woman before him, he fearfully loosened his hold, guilt crashing into him like a tidal wave.

"It's you." Frustration welled up in his eyes.

Suddenly, he scooped Rosalie into his arms, holding her tightly with one hand cupping the back of her head.

"I'm sorry, Youngie, I'm so sorry. Did I hurt you?"

She opened her mouth to say something, but the man suddenly cupped

sorry, Youngie. I... I lost control.

sorrow in his

gently patted Vincent's back and comforted him. "It's...it's

he had just done seemed like an

even a bit curious about who Youngie was. That woman must be very important to him. The tremors of his

his shoulder. "Vincent, I'm not Youngie. I'm

suddenly opened his eyes, his muddled mind

he jumped off the couch as if he

raising his arms to look at his hands, realizing he had almost choked her

up from the couch and touched her neck, which was

you sick?" She sensed that this man was not only physically injured but also mentally disturbed. What had he

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