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?"

mouth to say something, but

I... I lost control.

the sorrow in his eyes, Rosalie's

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

he had just done seemed like an instinctive

into hallucinations, always calling her Youngie. She was even a bit curious about who Youngie was. That woman must be very important

against his shoulder. "Vincent, I'm not Youngie. I'm Rosalie. Let

her words, the trembling man suddenly opened his eyes, his

jumped off the couch as if he

somewhat at a loss, raising his arms to look at his hands, realizing he had almost

from the couch and touched her neck, which was still swollen

that this man was not only physically injured but also mentally disturbed. What had he

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