He Faked Amnesia just to Keep Her

Third Person's POV

The liquor burned down Hazel’s throat like fire, searing her stomach until it felt as if her insides were being torn apart. The liquid even spilled out through her nose as she choked and gasped for air.

She grabbed Dominic’s wrist, her voice raw and hoarse, like sand scraping against stone. “It hurts… please—let go of me… I can’t drink anymore…”

Even under the dim lights, her face was turning a deep, alarming red. She looked seconds away from collapsing.

For a moment, something flickered in Dominic’s eyes—hesitation, maybe even pity. His grip also loosened slightly.

But Caroline quickly stepped in, her tone soft and falsely concerned.

“Forget it, Dominic,” she said sweetly. “As a woman, I can’t bear to see another woman suffer. Just let her go. I’ve already endured so much in my life; a little more doesn’t matter. I only feel guilty that I didn’t take better care of the dress you gave me.”

Her pitiful tone hit him like a dart straight to the chest, making Dominic’s expression harden again. Without another word, he grabbed another bottle and poured it down Hazel’s throat.

The second wave hit harder. Her vision blurred, her stomach churned violently, and then she couldn’t hold it back anymore. She vomited all over the floor.

The room filled with murmurs of disgust as the men around them covered their noses and stepped back.

Dominic instinctively took a step forward, wanting to help her, but the moment he caught Caroline’s cold, wounded gaze, he froze. His hand fell back to his side and frigidly said, “Caroline is the most important person in my life. Anyone who upsets her also upsets me. If you ever make her unhappy again, Hazel, I’ll make sure you suffer worse than this.”

Hazel wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, then looked up at him with glassy, tear-filled eyes.

“Dominic,” she asked softly, her voice trembling, “you mean that, right? Caroline’s the one you love most?”

“Yes.” He didn’t hesitate for even a second.

Hazel let out a faint laugh—broken, bitter, and hollow. She looked at him for a long moment before staggering to her feet. Then, without a word, she pushed him aside and walked toward the door.

The moment it closed behind her, voices sounded from inside the room.

“Dude, it’s late. Are you really letting her walk home alone? Isn’t that a bit dangerous?” one of his friends asked.

Dominic gave a low, dismissive chuckle and pulled Caroline into his arms. “What’s that got to do with me? I have Caroline now. Why should I care if someone else lives or dies?”

Outside, Hazel laughed through her tears.

He used to promise her that as long as she stayed by his side, she’d never be hurt again. Now he said her life and death had nothing to do with him.

But that was fine. Soon, she’d leave him forever, and he’d never find her again.

It was past midnight. There were no taxis in sight, so Hazel could only walk home. Her stomach churned painfully, and before long, she threw up again. Only this time, it was blood.

She sank weakly against a cold wall, clutching her stomach as if knives were slicing her from the inside out.

Then, a group of men appeared at the mouth of the alley. One of them pointed at her.

“There she is!”

A chill ran through Hazel’s body. Panic surged through her veins. She pushed herself up and tried to run. But before she could take two steps, one of them grabbed her by the hair and yanked her backward.

“Where do you think you’re going, you little bitch?”