Five Years Wasted Now They Beg Her Back novel Chapter 193

Damien's private residence was an estate nestled on a mountainside.

As soon as the car stopped, the housekeeper, Beatrice, hurried out with an umbrella.

When she saw Damien get out of the car carrying a battered and bruised Grace, Beatrice was so shocked she nearly dropped the umbrella.

“Oh, you poor thing! What on earth happened?”

“Go run a hot bath.”

Damien didn't explain, his expression terrifyingly dark.

“Get a clean set of pajamas and the first-aid kit.”

“Yes, yes, right away.”

Beatrice didn't dare ask any more questions and hurried inside to prepare, wiping tears from her eyes.

The master bedroom on the second floor.

Damien gently set Grace down on the soft bench in the bathroom.

“Grace.” He knelt in front of her, holding her cold hand. “We're home. You're safe here. There's no one to hurt you. Do you… do you want to bathe by yourself, or should I help you?”

He asked very carefully.

Grace looked at the man before her, his eyes bloodshot.

His suit was soaked, and his hair was a mess.

“I'll do it myself.” Grace's voice was quiet.

“Okay.” Damien immediately let go of her hand, stood up, and backed away. “I'll be right outside the door. Call me if you need anything. I won't leave.”

“Okay.”

The bathroom door closed.

Damien felt as if all his strength had been drained. He leaned against the wall and slowly slid to the floor.

He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and tried to light one, but his hand was shaking too badly.

He tried several times, but he couldn't get the flame to meet the tip of the cigarette.

“Damn it!”

He cursed under his breath and slammed the pack on the floor.

Useless. Damien, you're so damn useless.

You promised you'd protect her. And what happened?

Right under your nose, you let her get kidnapped, let her get humiliated.

If he had been just one step slower…

The mere thought of that outcome made Damien want to kill himself.

Inside the bathroom, the sound of the shower running filled the air.

Grace stood in front of the mirror.

Slowly, piece by piece, she removed her tattered clothing.

You can't make him worry.

“I'm fine.”

Grace turned off the water. Her voice was still a bit hoarse, but it was much calmer.

“I'll be out in a minute.”

Ten minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

Grace emerged, wearing a large set of pajamas.

Her wet hair was draped over her shoulders, making her small, pale face look even more ashen.

Damien was still sitting on the floor. When he saw her, he scrambled to his feet.

His legs were numb from sitting for so long, and he almost stumbled.

“Why didn't you dry your hair? You'll catch a cold.”

He took the towel from her and began to gently dry the ends of her hair.

When his gaze fell on the red marks on her neck that hadn't faded, his pupils contracted sharply.

They were from Ethan's grip.

For a moment, the murderous intent radiating from Damien was almost palpable.

But he quickly suppressed it.

He was afraid of frightening her.