Raina Lowell was too weak, her words slurred. The doctor couldn’t hear her clearly. He ignored her, tended to her wounds, set up an IV drip, and left. Shortly after, another person entered the room. He looked about twenty-four or twenty-five, dressed in black casual attire, tall and well-proportioned, with clean-cut handsome features, sharp eyebrows and bright eyes. Yet, his alluring smile exuded a sense of reckless abandon, sinister and roguish. He walked straight to the bedside and looked down at the woman in bed with disdain. Raina Lowell also looked at him. He seemed somewhat familiar. Like she had seen him somewhere before. But she couldn’t remember at the moment. She thought, could it be that he was the one who saved her? Raina opened her mouth, but she was so weak that her voice was intermittent. "Thank you, for saving me. My Aurora, is she alright?" Just a short sentence took all her strength. Perhaps because the pain was too intense, sweat beads appeared on her forehead. Damien Sinclair raised an eyebrow, leaned in closer to stare at Raina, smiling slyly. "Raina, don’t you remember me? I’m your slave." The phrase ’I’m your slave’ instantly exploded Raina’s long-sealed terrifying memories. Was this person Damien Sinclair? The young master of a wealthy family afflicted with paranoid schizophrenia, sent by his family to the countryside for treatment, living in a castle next to their village. When she was seven, she merely passed by a river and pulled him out from it. And then could never escape from the devil. Raina clearly remembered how, as a child, she would always be caught by him and locked in his castle for a week at a time. In the castle, he always called her master; he would kneel before her, imitating a dog, having her stroke his head. He would let her treat him like a horse to ride. If she didn’t play those games with him, he would go crazy and hit her. If her grandfather hadn’t brought the police to the door, he wouldn’t have let her go. Later, when her grandfather fell seriously ill, fearing she would be caught again, he sent her to The Grant Family for protection. Unexpectedly, after all these years, they met again. Raina tried to calm herself, thinking that after more than ten years, his illness should have improved. Now at twenty-four or five, he shouldn’t be as paranoid, morbid, and mad as he was in childhood. She endured the pain in her body and weakly asked: Damien Sinclair crouched beside the bed, his hands crossed under his chin, though exuding an innate nobility, he looked as obedient as a lapdog. He lay by the bed and nodded: "Yes, I was playing games with friends at sea, and you appeared out of nowhere in front of my yacht." "Raina, don’t you think this is fate? You simply can’t escape my grasp, right?" Follow current novᴇls on NoveIꜰire.net As he spoke, he smiled harmlessly, gently caressing her cheek. "Poor Raina, how did you get so hurt? But don’t worry, with me here, I won’t let anything happen to you." Raina stiffened, not daring to move. Nor did she dare to avoid his touch. This person’s illness wasn’t cured at all. He was still as morbid as he was in childhood. Raina tensed up all over and asked again: "Did you only save me? What about a child?" Damien Sinclair frowned, puzzled, "What child? I only saw you, didn’t see any child?" "How can that be? I clearly saw Aurora being thrown before I jumped down." Thinking she had survived a near-death experience, then her daughter... No, her Aurora must be alright. When she tried to sit up in discomfort, Damien suddenly changed his expression, leaning closer to pursue: "What child? You got hurt because of a child?" "Who is that child to you? You can’t have been married and have a child with another man, right?" He became more excited as he spoke, his eyes turning red, his hands trembling. Raina knew he would fall ill when emotionally agitated. Whenever he fell ill, he would hit people. Seeing her predicament, she couldn’t provoke him, otherwise, she might die here at any moment. Knowing how to make this man behave. Raina softened her voice, "No, no, Mr. Sinclair, thank you for saving me." Hearing her say she wasn’t married and had no children, Damien Sinclair finally calmed down. He put on a different face, smiling warmly at her. "Raina, don’t call me Mr. Sinclair, I’m 25 now, an adult, I can marry you, call me husband, okay?" Raina only felt disgusted, nauseated. Why was he still so insane? Why had she fallen into his hands again? Thinking she couldn’t move now and didn’t know her daughter’s condition. She couldn’t act rashly, could only helplessly ask: "I’m feeling terrible, could I rest for a while?" Damien Sinclair nodded in agreement, "Alright, Raina, have a good rest, I’m here with you, when you’re better, I’ll take you home." He sat by the bed, holding her hand, carefully caring for her. From time to time, he would bury his head and nuzzle against her. Even took her hand and placed it on his head. Raina knew he was just sick, liked others to pamper him like a dog. No matter how disgusted and repulsed she felt, she dared not resist, and could only endure it. Under treatment from top experts, Raina gradually recovered, able to walk down to the ground and feed herself. Throughout the week, Damien Sinclair was almost always by her side. Raina dared not ask about her daughter anymore, nor mention that she was married or who her husband was. She feared Damien Sinclair would erupt and strangle her to death. But she always thought about her daughter in her heart. If she didn’t hurry back to Lowell Manor, her son would worry about her too. That day, for some unknown reason, Damien Sinclair finally left the ward. Raina quickly got out of bed, didn’t change the hospital gown, and directly opened the door to escape. Upon opening the door, two burly bodyguards blocked her way, stopping her. "Miss Lowell, the young master ordered that you can’t go out." Raina knew they would soon notify Damien Sinclair, resigned, she turned back inside. Sitting back on the hospital bed, when Damien Sinclair returned, Raina simply confessed to him. "I want to contact my family, can you give me a phone?" She tried to ask doctors and nurses for a phone to make a call. But they ignored her, probably following Damien Sinclair’s orders, not letting her contact the outside world. Today, Damien Sinclair wore a high-quality black silk shirt, with a loose tie around his neck. The cold white skin complemented his already good features, rogue and noble. He shook his head and refused, "No, Grandpa Lowell doesn’t allow Raina to be with me, let’s just ignore him." His slender fingers peeled the orange, meticulously removing every bit of white pith before offering it to Raina’s mouth. Raina turned away, unwilling to eat, her voice also turned colder. "Damien Sinclair, you’ve grown up, you’re not a child anymore, can you stop being so childish, can you let me go?"