"You claim you love her, that you'll avenge her, but when I severed her hand, and she was in unbearable pain, you let out a sigh of relief. Because you thought that way she wouldn't go to France to study design, and she'd stay with you forever." "Rather than saying you love her, you love your own possessiveness! As long as you can keep her, you don't care about hurting her. Does that even count as love? What makes you any different from me? We both resorted to desperate measures for love. What right do you have to treat me like this?!" Julian Blackwood's footsteps paused. He said nothing, then left. But once in the car, he seemed to lose all his strength, his face deathly pale. Because he realized Serena Vance wasn't wrong; he was indeed full of possessiveness. His love was too selfish. My shattered expression when my right hand was severed, and the cruel scene of him whipping me again and again... flooded his mind. This kind of love had truly wounded me too deeply. When he found me, he would confess, he would completely restore my freedom, letting me do nything I wanted. Actually, that prosthetic right hand could have been... With that thought, Julian Blackwood had only one idea: to the ends of the earth, he would find me. On the plane, the flight attendant came over several times to ask if I needed any help. My face looked terrible. "No, thank you," I answered, forcing myself to speak. I was wrapped in a trench coat, hiding all my wounds. The cuts on my face were covered with foundation. My hair had been trimmed near the airport, so it no longer looked so jarring. 12:41 pm P D DD. < I knew I wouldn't be safe until I reached Paris, so I tried my best to appear normal. My gaze fell on my slightly trembling hands. My only relief was that during the brutal torment, my hands had been tied so tightly. Thus, they hadn't been injured. My hands were too important. After a long flight, the plane finally landed. It wasn't until I cleared customs that I let out a sigh of relief. A feeling of being reborn, of truly being alive again. I collected my luggage and headed towards the exit. Suddenly, my attention was drawn to a young woman not far away. She wore light blue jeans and a white T-shirt, her hair tied in a lively ponytail, a canvas bag casually slung over her shoulder. She looked confident, radiant, and free-spirited. The corners of my mouth involuntarily curved into a slight smile. This girl, she looked just like the old me. The me before I met Julian Blackwood. Discover our latest featured short drama reel. Watch now and enjoy the story!