Chasing My Pregnant Wife



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?"

Rosalie's neck hurt. She opened her mouth to say something, but the man suddenly cupped her face with his hands.

"I'm sorry, Youngie. I... I lost control. I'm really sorry."

Seeing the sorrow in his eyes, Rosalie's fear gradually faded.

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

What he had just done seemed like an instinctive reaction and wasn't intentional.

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

The tremors of his voice continued to echo in her ears. "Youngie..."

Rosalie gently pushed against his shoulder. "Vincent, I'm not Youngie. I'm Rosalie. Let me go!"

At her words, the trembling man suddenly opened his eyes, his muddled mind gradually clearing.

He slowly released Rosalie, finally

seeing her face clearly. Instantly, he jumped off the couch as if he had been electrocuted and stepped back a few paces.

Vincent appeared somewhat at a loss, raising his arms to look at his hands, realizing he had almost choked her to death.

Rosalie sat up from the couch and touched her neck, which was still swollen and painful.

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"Vincent, are you sick?" She sensed that this man was not only

physically injured but also mentally disturbed. What had he beero through?

He had almost killed her just now, but in his current state, she couldn't blame him; it was evident he hadn't meant to do it. "Are...are you okay?"

He stood there, his tall frame seeming to shrink a little, resembling a lost child. His confused gaze wandered aimlessly. Rosalie lowered her head and sighed helplessly. At least he knew he made a mistake.

She ran her fingers through her hair and said, "Dinner is ready. You should go eat now."

She would have to stay with him for the next few days. She wondered how many more hallucinations he would experience.

Would he mistake her for Youngie

again or see her as a villain? It seemed that the next time he fell asleep, she should avoid getting too close to him.

"You come and eat too."

Vincent, usually cold and indifferent, spoke now without confidence, like a child who had done something wrong.